Hoffmann lay in the carriage, eyes half-closed and breathing steadily, as if he were in a deep sleep.

  The creaking wheels on the cobblestones felt soothing. Hoffmann had only been in the carriage a little while before he became sober.

  Suddenly, an icy glint pierced the carriage door, hurtling towards Hoffmann.

  But just as the glint reached, Hoffmann closed his eyes and instantly extended two fingers. He clamped the glint between them, stopping it in its tracks.

  A longsword dangled between Hoffmann's two fingers as he slowly opened his eyes.

  The sword shook a little. The person who drew it seemed ready to pull back, but Hoffmann's grip was strong. His two fingers clenched the sword's tip.

  "Retreat!" a loud shout came from outside the carriage. The newcomer let go of his longsword and tried to pull back. But Hoffmann caught it with his other hand and broke it.

  In an instant, the longsword shattered. Shards flew through the curtains and into the darkness outside the carriage.

  Several screams followed, then chaotic footsteps echoed from all directions.

  ...

  Back at his mansion, Stirling checked his usual traps. He was relieved to see that no one had triggered them. Then, he got ready to start his training for the day.

  Stirling had reached the blood-boiling stage and the Grandmaster level, but he still felt a bit of pressure after seeing Khan today.

  His gut feeling was that worshipping gods wasn't easy. If it were not so, how could they have taken over ten states and seized the throne in just a few decades?

  Stirling murmured, looking at his palm.

  As Stirling wrapped up his work, he heard a loud explosion outside. It startled him, breaking the calm of the moment.

  This sound was definitely not something a Virl Force could produce. The thought flashed through Stirling's mind, and he stared blankly out of the window.

  A loud commotion in the inner city meant something serious had happened. He furrowed his brow, then pushed open the door. He stepped into the courtyard to find out where the explosions were coming from.

  To Stirling's surprise, the explosions came from everywhere, not just one spot. This made Stirling think that external malice might have invaded the inner city.

  "By order of the Lord, there are bandits causing trouble! No one may leave the house!"

  "By order of the Lord, there are bandits causing trouble! No one may leave the house!"

  Just then, the sound of hooves clattered outside the courtyard gate. A troop of black-armored guards rode their malice horses speedily down the street. They held torches and shouted orders.

  The once pitch-black inner city was now mostly illuminated by these torches. Many people heard the noise and came out of their houses. But when they heard the black-armored guards shout, they quickly ran back inside in fear.

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  Upon hearing this word, Stirling immediately thought of the Exorcism Cult.

  Stirling was astonished. But then he thought, today was the grand banquet at Karl's Mansion. Almost all the important people from Farfield City were there. If someone really wanted to cause trouble, this was indeed the perfect opportunity.

  In a flash, many thoughts raced through his mind, making him narrow his eyes a little.

  No matter the time or place, his own safety was always the priority.

  Thinking this, he promptly turned and went back inside. He found a hidden compartment under the kitchen floor tiles. Then, he took out the quicksand map to look it over.

  The quicksand map still showed no red crosses. This meant that the city's hounds had not yet turned their attention to him.

  There was still time.

  Stirling sighed with relief. He tucked the map back into the hidden compartment and hid it well before heading to the courtyard.

  On the street outside, the chaotic footsteps and shouts grew increasingly frequent. Stirling knew Night Watchman had joined the search party.

  The occasional screams and sounds of fighting showed that the so-called thieves were being surrounded. Capture or execution was only a matter of time.

  A figure suddenly leaped over the courtyard wall, stumbled, and fell to the ground, interrupting Stirling's thoughts.

  The man wore a mask and was dressed entirely in black. His wide eyes showed confusion. He clearly didn't expect anyone to stand calmly in the courtyard, watching the chaos outside.

  Stirling sized up the newcomer and noticed that one of his hands was missing. Blood was dripping onto the courtyard floor, the sound clearly audible.

  Stirling calmly looked at the man, then glanced at his forearm, which was tightly bound with a black cloth. Just as he was about to speak, he heard the man say: "Shhh! Don't shout!"

  Stirling scratched his head and saw the man stagger to his feet, then approach him, knife in hand.

  "Since you are not a worshipper, we all have a common enemy. As long as you don't shout, I won't hurt you!" The man said, throwing the steel knife to the ground and then shaking his severed arm at Stirling.

  "I'll stay here for a bit. I'll leave when no one's around outside." The man moved closer to Stirling as he spoke.

  Stirling stared blankly at the man, seemingly too terrified to react. But then he suddenly jumped forward, vanishing a few meters like a ghost, and punched the man in the chest.

  A muffled thud, and Vir Force erupted. The man's heart shattered instantly. His body flew back and hit the courtyard wall with a loud shaking it twice.

  Stirling frowned, watching the man slowly slide down the wall, silently blaming himself.

  Then, he habitually put on his gloves and bent down to pick up a long needle from the ground.

  The man held the long needle in a reverse grip. It fell to the ground with a after Stirling's punch sent him flying.

  Stirling shook his head, then walked to the corpse with the needle and inserted it into the man's chest.

  Afterward, Stirling stowed his gloves in his coat and looked around the courtyard. Then he heard another

  Stirling's courtyard gate swung open, and a group of officers with torches rushed in.

  Stirling saw the leader. It was Harry, the vice-captain of a different Night Watch squad.

  Harry's hawk-like eyes scanned the area as he entered. They quickly found the corpse by the wall, then moved to Stirling.

  "Luis Chilavert?" Harry looked at Stirling, slightly taken aback, then a smile crept across his lips.

  "My dear brother, it seems you have some connection with the rebels. Hehe," Harry looked at Stirling and said coldly.

  "Captain Harry, the man is dead." Stirling pointed to the corpse lying at the courtyard gate.

  Harry glanced at the body, then waved his hand. An officer stepped up, removed the man's mask, and checked his pupils.

  "Boss, he's dead." The man shouted.

  "Luis Chilavert, how did he die?" Harry looked at Stirling and asked coldly.

  "He tried to kill me, but I killed him in return." Stirling said calmly.

  Upon hearing this, Harry walked to Stirling's side, stared into his eyes, and said, word by word: "Are you kidding me? You, a clerk at the minor stage of Bone Forging, have killed a rebel at the major stage?!!"

  "Why do not you try it too?" Stirling's expression remained unchanged as he looked at Harry with disdain.