Tama unexpectedly reached level 6 in alchemy. With the advantage of materials and venue, Brand could safely entrust the task of crafting cursed arrows to him. Then the young man, carrying the poisoned dagger and dwarf treasure sword, called Batom and prepared to meet the Limp Man from Black Pepper Alley.
He had been anticipating this meeting with the Limp Man, known as Lorne, for some time, especially eager to find out if the Wind Queen’s Ring had any subsequent tasks. Moreover, he knew that the Limp Man had some connections with the Grey domain in Brags, possibly even introducing him to the underground auctions.
Batom’s red beard was too conspicuous, so the two of them, one after another, donned cloaks to conceal themselves before heading out. Brand did not see the merchant lady who had promised to follow. She must have gone on another ’adventure’ somewhere.
But just as he pulled down the edge of his hood, he heard Batom say from behind:
"Sir Knight, I’ve thought it over and feel that your lordship’s plan is still not secure enough."
"What?" Brand, hiding the Elf Treasure Sword under his cloak, turned back and asked.
"There were quite a few refugees who saw us back then. Even though you made them swear secrecy, with more people there are always thoughts. Who’s to say there isn’t someone with ill intentions among them?" Batom said cautiously, tucking his beard under the hood while looking around warily.
"It’s always difficult to hide from those who are determined to know. But the nobles only need a result. If I don’t stand out, they’re all the more pleased," Brand thought for a moment and replied, "What I need is some unnoticed time, Batom."
"But I still think we should have kept all those refugees," Batom insisted.
Brand smiled. This must be Batom’s true opinion. Shaking his head, he said, "Gathering refugees openly would be too conspicuous and create enemies. Besides, not everyone would willingly join us. Batom, people grab onto straws when they’re in trouble, but they won’t hold on forever—"
Batom nodded, but was inwardly unconvinced. He thought there might be a better way. From Brand’s methods, he clearly saw that the young knight’s ambition was far from small, hence his hope that Brand would focus more on strengthening himself.
But that wasn’t Brand’s concern. He was more worried about attracting the attention of the Unity of All Things. Few who had seen him in Ridenburg were still alive, but being too outstanding would inevitably lead to suspicion.
Yet when he killed the White Knight, only a few close companions were present, which was his biggest advantage. It was unlikely that anyone would pay much attention to someone at Black Iron Lower level.
Regardless, time was of the essence. As long as he grew strong quickly, the Unity of All Things was nothing but lurking phantoms.
Black Pepper Alley was the largest of several slums in Brags.
In Brand’s memory, it wasn’t his first time in this place, with stagnant water and rats running rampant. But no matter what, in the sweltering summer heat, the lingering foul stench was hard to bear for him.
Batom, on the other hand, seemed quite natural. As mercenaries, they were frequent visitors to such places. Brand knew that in the shadows of this alley lurked many dirty dealings—hyena-like bounty hunters and coarse low-class prostitutes, mercenaries, thieves, and illegal merchants mingling here, as if this place was inherently meant to nurture crime and corruption.
However, occasionally, among the poor, one could witness the most genuine moments between people.
The young man had no intention of passing judgment on such a place. He saw dirty-clothed children carefully avoiding him while greedily eyeing him from the sides, along with the occasional malicious glances around him, instinctively heightening his vigilance.
Brand stopped in front of an old wooden door, raising his head to see the triangular mark on the beam, confirming it was the Limp Man’s house, before knocking on the door.
Thump, thump, thump. The wooden door seemed ready to shatter at any moment, shaking off a layer of dust.