No wonder Serra had said that the mysteries of the Sword Spirit were usually only accessible to Spirit Knights and higher. Even Heaven Soldiers wouldn’t be able to delve into the intricate truths of the universe and use them at their discretion.
Nevertheless, the Technique Traves had created really clashed with the laws of the Heavens and Earth. It was probably one of the reasons why the dragon had spent several hundred millennia in that underwater cave.
A white, furry muzzle popped out from under his shirt. Azrea yawned and bit Hadjar slightly. She always did that when she was hungry. Smiling, Hadjar looked around at his temporary home and walked out the door.
The servants had given him a very plain, heavy, iron key, which Hadjar used to lock the door. He could bust through the door easily. However, there were very few practitioners of his level in the Kingdom. Usually, these practitioners didn’t really need to break into someone’s rooms.
Hadjar went over to Serra and Nero’s room, but, judging by the sounds coming from it, he was sure that they didn’t want to be disturbed. So, he left them to it and went down the stairs quickly.
Expensive oil lamps hung on the walls. He had rarely seen so many in one place, even in the Palace, but a simple tavern had an abundance of them. It was quite a shocking contrast when compared to the poor neighborhoods. Ruled by the Empire, the poor had only gotten poorer, and the rich had gotten richer.
Hadjar went down to the dining hall and, showing the emblem on his room key, went to sit at a table on the second floor. There were much fewer people here than on the first floor. In order to sit at a table on this floor, a person had to either pay a substantial amount of money or be a guest at their best rooms.
Hadjar sat down at a table and a waitress rushed over to him immediately. He noticed the similarities between the barmaid and the waitress: they had the same sparkling, bright green eyes and rich, fiery hair. The tavern was a family business.
“Today we have a rich selection of game,” she began amiably. “Goose stuffed with apples, steamed turkey, fried and baked duck, and...”
Out of habit, Hadjar raised his palm imperiously. He realized too late that he was no longer a General, and here in the city, such a gesture was boorish.
“Sorry,” Hadjar apologized immediately and lowered his hand. However, the waitress wasn’t insulted at all. “Can I have an animal eating alongside me?”
“Of course,” the girl nodded.
Hadjar pulled Azrea out from underneath his clothes and put her on the table. The kitten sniffed the white tablecloth and then politely sat down right in the center of the table. The girl was amazed. If Hadjar hadn’t been there, she would’ve already started hugging and petting the adorable little ball of fluff.
“Please bring a cup of boiling water for me and a bowl of warm milk for her.”
Azrea hissed with displeasure at her master, which made the waitress fight to muffle her laughter. The pretty red-haired girl was a little surprised at the strange order. Nodding and writing something down in her notebook (it was surprising that a simple waitress knew how to write), she went downstairs quickly and got lost in the crowd.
Hadjar was left with only his fluffy girlfriend for company. While he listened to the bards’ song, Azrea licked her fur indifferently. She wasn’t one to abide idle chatter.
Down on the small stage, the bards were singing the most popular song in Lidus — the song of the Mad General’s fight against ‘The Black Gates’ sect. It was a bit strange for Hadjar to sit there and listen to a song about his ‘exploits’. As they always did, the bards embellished reality, just slightly, but still enough for people to listen to the song with bated breath.
Some of the guests couldn’t even keep eating, seemingly frozen as they became completely enthralled by the scenes of battle evoked in their imaginations. In the whole tavern, only two tables paid little attention to the bards. At one of them sat a young man in plain, old clothes. He was waiting for his order and stroking the white kitten. At the other, a group consisting of seven children of the officials were having a feast. The girls wore rich jewelry while the boys wore hairpins made from jade and jasper, their clean hair gathered up in buns.
The unkempt Hadjar looked like a peasant surrounded by scholars. Their light, silk outfits, embroidered with gold and silver threads most likely cost more than the annual salary of a general.
The weapons that they’d placed on the edge of the table were worth as much as half of the northern province of Lidus. Just a single ruby from one of those scabbards could’ve been exchanged for a decent palace in the central district.
The Empire really tried their best to ensure that the nobles didn’t even think about raising a rebellion against them.
“They’re singing about that damned General as well,” one of the young men declared irritably.
He was sipping a fairly strong alcoholic drink from a jug. It was the color of a ripe apple, and most of it had ended up on his silk clothes. None of the nobles cared. All of them were too drunk to worry about their appearance.
“Damn it!” the boy snapped, throwing the jug down with all his strength. The clay fragments scattered in all directions. They even seemed to cut someone. However, the nobles still didn’t care. “If only I could meet this General, I’d wrap his intestines around his neck!”
Chapter 187
“Come on, Ribon,” one of the girls laughed. “You’re just mad that Her Highness, Princess Elaine, rejected your father’s proposal for you to marry her.”
“It was the eleventh time,” the young man sitting next to him said.
Ribon just growled furiously and grabbed the next jug.
“She knows that my swordplay
