Iron Powder and Spellcaster

Gilad Mitchell didn't like sharing a table with strangers, but he looked around and saw that the other tables were already occupied, so he nodded to the blond man.

After receiving permission, the blond man nodded and thanked him, and then sat down diagonally opposite Gilad.

However, he did not order anything to eat or drink. Instead, he sat upright, his left hand lightly resting on the hilt of his sword, and his eyes wandered between the harpist and other guests in the center of the side hall.

He seemed out of place in the noisy, dirty tavern.

The plump tavern proprietress walked over with her waist swaying, attracting the side glances of the drinkers along the way. She winked at the handsome blond man and said in a voice that was so sticky that it was almost stringy: "Little brother, do you want something?"

"No." The blond man crossed his arms, turned his gaze sideways, and replied expressionlessly: "Thank you."

"Really don't want it?"

The blond man replied firmly: "Nothing is needed."

"Okay." The landlady was quite disappointed. She glanced at the counter in the distance - the owner of the tavern had almost squeezed out the oak wood countertop. Then she gently bent down, deliberately exposing half of her chest, and looked at the blond man's ear. Exhaling hot breath: "If you want anything, you can always come to me."

The blond man's cheeks turned red.

The landlady giggled, swayed her curvy buttocks, and went to entertain other customers.

It took a while for Mr. Mitchell Sr. to recover from the shock.

He shook his head mockingly, smiled and joked to the young man on the other side of the table: "So there is a hostess in this shop? I have been here for so many days, and every time it is the waiter who entertains me."

"There is no need to belittle yourself, old gentleman." The blond man glanced at the hat placed on the table by the guest at the same table, and replied in an unassuming manner: "If you are willing to try, I think that lady with an excellent appetite will not refuse a Of the mighty Dussac.”

Gilad was startled for a moment, and his eyes followed the blond man's gaze to his hat.

Old Dussac laughed heartily and turned to greet the waiter: "Get another glass! Get another bottle of wine - get the best one!"

Looking back, Gilad smiled and asked the young man in front of him: "Are you Dusak too? Then we should have a drink together."

"Thank you for your kindness, but I am not Dusak." The blond man still had a repulsive attitude. He pursed his lips. Although he was embarrassed, he still answered bluntly: "I don't have money to buy wine either."

Gilad found the young man in front of him more and more interesting.

The waiter quickly brought new cups and wine. Gilad poured the wine himself and took the initiative to put it in front of the young man: "Then can you give me, an old man, a chance to buy you a drink?"

The hospitality was hard to resist. The blond man bent down solemnly to express his gratitude, then picked up the large wooden wine glass and sniffed it gently.

"Too strong?" Girard said apologetically: "Outlanders are generally not used to drinking wine from newly cultivated lands."

"No." The blond man replied calmly: "It's not strong enough."

Gilad burst into laughter, and unconsciously showed some of the majesty of an older man: "Young man, don't talk big. Even though this shop is shabby, his wine is the most powerful in Maple Stone City."

"In some places, people have been able to separate extremely pure 'alcohol' from alcohol. That kind of thing cannot even be drunk directly. It must be blended with water, otherwise you will die if you drink it."

The blond man stated calmly: "Only wine of that level deserves to be called spirits. Even if a naturally fermented wine like this has undergone simple distillation, it is still not strong enough after all."

After saying that, the blond man drank down the tavern owner's favorite aged wine in one gulp, and then put down the cup with a normal expression.

Gilad couldn't help but slap the table and applaud, he laughed: "I finally found a qualified drinking partner in Maple Stone City! I really want to have a drink with you."

But immediately, the corners of Gilad's mouth drooped again, and he said with regret and disappointment: "But I have to go home tonight, and I can't drink too much."

"That means someone is waiting for you." Hearing this, the blond man's expression became a little lonely. He sincerely said to old Dusak: "This is something worthy of envy. I envy you very much, old gentleman."

"Yes, it is indeed great luck." Gilad said with emotion when he was told the central issue.

But he quickly regained his interest. While pouring wine for the young man, he said with a smile: "But if you drink a few drinks, there is still no problem. At most, you will get a few complaints."

Gilad asked curiously: "Looking at the accent, you are from the north?"

Once again, his accent revealed his origin, and the blond man couldn't help but sigh: "Is it so obvious?"

"It's not obvious, you already speak the Plato dialect very well - better than me." Gilad said with a smile: "But I am also from the north, and I heard you speak kindly, so I asked you. "

The blond man half-squinted his eyes and looked at old Dussac: "I have heard that thirty years ago, there was a group of Dussacs who belonged to the Guards. After being captured by Lord Ned Smith, they turned to Senas. The Alliance swore allegiance. After the war, they were placed by Lord Ned Smith in..."

"Placed in the newly cultivated land." Gilad pointed to himself and said generously: "Yes, I am one of them."

Gilad asked: "You are also a soldier, right?"

The blond man nodded.

"Noble?" Gilad asked again.

The blond man became wary and remained silent for a moment before he nodded reluctantly.

"Exiles?" Girard continued.

This time, the blond man didn't answer. He smiled noncommittally: "Old sir, do you want to marry your daughter to me?"

When Scarlett was mentioned, a hundred thousand melancholy thoughts flooded into Gilad's heart, and he couldn't help but sigh: "Oh, that's only if she is willing."

When the blond man heard what Old Dussac said, he picked up the wine bottle and poured half a glass of wine for the latter, and then poured half a glass for himself: "Your daughter is lucky to have a father like you."

"You are wrong, young man." Girard said fondly: "For a father, a daughter is the most precious gift given by the Lord."

A bitter smile appeared on the blond man's face unconsciously: "Maybe, that's the case."

"For every good father." Gilad raised his glass.

The blond man also raised his glass: "For every good father."

The two clinked their glasses together and drank happily.

At the same time, the fiddler was singing the climax of the story, which seemed to be about the desperate battle between the protagonist and the King of the North in front of the battlefield - Gilad did not listen carefully.

The fiddler sang vigorously, but the drinkers could no longer stand his rough and loud voice and started to boo.

But the more the audience cheered, the louder the fiddler sang.

Seeing this, the blond man silently placed his left hand on the hilt of the sword.

Girard looked at the piano player wearing an exaggerated big-brimmed hat, and asked the young man in front of him puzzledly: "Your employer?"

"My friend," the blond man replied.

"That's right." Gilad said relieved: "I'm just telling you, how can a luthier who sings so poorly be able to hire a good player like you?"

The blond man who was as calm as ice before heard this, and actually showed a look of shame.

He explained nervously: "Actually... the real singer is another person. It's just that she has a place to stay tonight, so we are the only ones who come out to perform."

"Then don't let him sing again." Girard looked at the dissatisfied drinkers around him: "If he continues to sing, not only will he not be able to earn the accommodation fee tonight, but you will also have to pay for the table and chairs."

The dissatisfaction of the drinkers intensified because of the player's ignorance. People began to pound the table, boo, and yelled at the player to get out.

Others threw things at the violinist, but the latter deftly dodged them, while the sound of the violin continued.

"If I could stop him." The blond man sighed softly: "We won't be reduced to performing on the streets."

The sounds of banging on the table gradually converged into a neat muffled sound.

"What the hell are you singing?" Someone yelled: "It's so damn ugly!"

"Get out!" someone shouted.

"Hit him!" someone yelled, "Hit him!"

Amid the deafening chaos, a timid drake's voice drifted in from the door: "Who is Siegfried? Why are you singing about him? Can you sing something else?"

However, no one expected that this almost muffled sound would actually make the piano player stop.

The violinist took in enough breath and shouted, "Quiet!"

The earth-shaking roar almost lifted the roof off the house, instantly silencing the drinkers who had been making noises just now.

Seeing that everyone around him was covering his ears in pain, the violinist nodded with satisfaction.

He held the hat in his hand, revealing his head with slightly sparse hair, bowed gracefully toward the entrance, and asked pleasantly: "What do you want to hear?"

Three men, two old and one young, were standing at the entrance of the tavern. The one who just spoke was the youngest and half-grown man among them.

"I want to hear the story of the Blood Wolf." The young man mustered up his courage and replied loudly: "I want to hear the "Battle of the Styx"!"

When the drinkers heard this, they all cheered and echoed: "Yes! Listen to the blood wolf!"

"Uh." This time it was the piano player's turn to be embarrassed, and he said sheepishly: "I don't know how to play "The Battle of Styx.""

The young man was very disappointed and asked: "What about "The Battle of Blood and Mud"?"

"A battle with blood and mud is also possible." The drinkers started cheering again: "A battle with blood and mud is also possible!"

The piano player was even more embarrassed: "I'm sorry, I don't know "Blood and Mud Battle" either."

"Everyone else knows how to do things, how come you don't know anything?" The half-grown man's eyes were full of contempt. He shook the booklet in his hand: "What about the latest one? "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth", you know how to do it?" ?"

The drinkers were immediately in the mood.

You know, the most popular story in Maple Stone City right now is "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth".

This story, originally published in the Newsletter, became a hit once it was published.

As a "notice" to the public, each issue of the "Newsletter" will be posted on the bulletin boards of cities, villages and towns in the newly reclaimed land.

When it was first released, because people often stole the "Newsletter", local governments had to send special personnel to guard the bulletin boards with the "Newsletter" posted on it.

But as time goes by, the novelty gradually fades away, and now few people steal "Communications" anymore.

Most people who wanted to take the "Newsletter" home and read it carefully instead copied it on the spot, or simply bought a separately printed booklet.

However, since "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" was published in "Newsletter", the "good old days" of the past have immediately returned.

Due to the size of the paper, "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" could not be released in the "Newsletter" at once and had to be published in chapters.

This time it scratched the itch of the people in the new land. "Newsletters" were posted on bulletin boards everywhere. One post was posted, one was lost, two were posted, and a pair was lost.

There was even an amusing incident that happened, "before the messenger responsible for posting the "Newsletter" arrived, several groups of people who wanted to steal the "Newsletter" were already fighting in front of the bulletin board."

The distribution department of "Communication" had to urgently remove "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" from "Communication" and print it separately.

Storytellers in markets all over the country have recently stopped telling the old stories of "Magyar Kings" and have turned to "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth".

The most famous theater troupe in Maple Rock City is also rehearsing a new play based on the story of "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth".

So when the young man asked, "Can we talk about "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth"", the drinkers immediately became interested.

However, the piano player once again disappointed everyone: "I can't do the "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" you mentioned, either."

"Then what do you know?" The drinkers were angry: "Get out! Get out!"

Spoons, forks, wine glasses, rotten fruit, hard bread with teeth marks... were flying under the roof of the tavern again.

"Wait a minute." The violinist shouted while holding his head and dodging, "I can tell the story of 'Lenna Fox and the Lioness'."

The tavern quickly fell silent upon hearing the lioness. The drinkers understood and stopped making noise.

"Let him speak!" someone said.

"Speak!" The crowd made chaotic noises: "Speak."

The young man at the door curiously asked the middle-aged man next to him: "Dad, what is the story of Lena Fox?"

The middle-aged man, whose face was as hard as granite, looked a little unnatural. He said awkwardly: "It's a little too early for you."

"Hey, Brother Majiya." Another fat middle-aged man said with a smile: "It's getting late, it's time to let Raul know what he should know."

After that, the middle-aged man looked at the young man and said jokingly: "Don't you want to know the story of Lena Fox? Why don't we find a seat and listen to it?"

At the same time, the lute player cleared his throat, played the lute, and told with an exaggerated expression "The story that Lena the fox and the lioness had to tell."

The blond man turned his head and covered his face, pretending not to recognize the piano player.

Gilad laughed.

Just when Gilad was about to pour the young man another glass of wine, a flattering voice sounded beside him.

Gilad raised his head and found that the threesome, two old and one young, who had been standing at the door just now, had come to his table.

"Brother, all other places are full." The fat middle-aged man asked with a smile, "Can we sit at a table with you?"

[Today [The Story of Lena Fox] is a well-known children’s book and has been published all over the world]

[However, in the Middle Ages, the original version [The Story of Lena Fox] had a lot of 18+ plots, including but not limited to adultery, rape//violence, N//T//R, etc.]

[Today's Lena Fox is different from the original version of Lena Fox. Just like today's Grimm's fairy tales, for people in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, the original version of the dark fairy tale was told by the fireside and in the tavern]

[As soon as the audience heard about the lioness, they immediately understood. This is because since classical times, the female lion has been the embodiment of sexual desire. The ancient Romans believed that female lions were lustful and male lions were chaste, and leopards were illegitimate children born after a female lion cuckolded a male lion]

[So the cheetah leopard is the lion leo+pard]

[The she-wolf is also the embodiment of desire. In ancient Rome, the she-wolf lupa was a synonym for prostitute//woman, and lupanar was naturally a prostitute//house]

[So everyone can know why some people dare to call Winters directly "Blood Wolf", but no one dares to call Winters and Anna "She Wolf" in front of the latter]

[In the beginning, the title [she-wolf] appeared with a slight derogatory connotation, because at that time, people outside the army, although they obeyed Winters, they did not really respect Winters]

[But as the plot progresses, [She Wolf] is gradually replaced by [Wolf Queen] and [Madam]]

[The plot of the last two chapters has been slowed down, I'm sorry, I will try to write more substantial chapters in the next few chapters]

[thank you all]