Round 20: Conflict

The Red Robe Mage Tavern, located in a corner of the stronghold, was also built of solid stone. Its windows were narrow and small, and there were no obvious signs outside—at first glance, it might even be mistaken for a warehouse.
It resembled more of a place where the staff inside the stronghold relaxed and entertained themselves. Merchants, guards, clerks, and apprentice mages who hadn’t yet earned their Red Robe status—strangers generally preferred to spend a few minutes in an outside tavern rather than spend the night here unless they truly had to stay overnight in the stronghold. There were no flirtatious barmaids, no crude jokes, and certainly no exciting tavern brawls. One had to get their own drinks and pay upfront; any damage caused would have to be settled separately. Those who got drunk and behaved rudely would be thrown out by the guards or even locked in the underground prison as intruders, only to be released after paying a fine… Red Robe Mages were no lenient bartenders.
The only thing that was somewhat acceptable was that the drinks here were really good.
When Moriel and Forty-Seven entered, it caused a slight stir. They glanced at Moriel, but after seeing the tattoo on her face that marked her as a Red Robe Mage, they quickly turned away. Two other mages quietly stood up and cleared a table near the liquor shelves, in a good spot.
“I didn’t expect you to have such influence here,” Forty-Seven said, scanning the tavern. Nearly half of the people there were bald—even some women were—and even more had tattoos.
“Is this some kind of underground Shaolin temple?” he muttered under his breath.
Moriel let out an almost imperceptible sigh. After years of avoidance, she was once again entangled with the Red Robe Mages—in a way she hadn’t expected. Red Robe Mages hardly ever went to taverns, not even those inside the stronghold. They considered such places crude, vulgar, and dangerous, unworthy of their status. They preferred to enjoy fine wines and delicacies in luxurious private residences, holding their secret and evil feasts… But Moriel liked taverns. She wanted to distance herself from the Red Robe Mages as much as possible—not just through superficial actions like refusing the Red Robe or covering up the tattoos on her face, but by constantly reminding herself deep down that she was different from them.
That’s why, even though she decided to spend the night in the stronghold, she refused to stay in the luxurious suite prepared for her by Jiali, meant for high-ranking Red Robe Mages to work and rest in.
But now, the reactions of these people reminded Moriel once again of her current status. She was a Red Robe Mage, and possibly the highest-ranking one in the entire stronghold, as Jiali was clearly inferior in terms of magical power. This meant Moriel was now almost like a queen in the stronghold, wielding great power and able to use it at will against these people—this thought unsettled her. Was she reintegration into the life of the Red Robe Mages?
This thought ruined Moriel’s good mood instantly, almost making her change her mind and leave the stronghold right away.

Forty-seven had no awareness at all of being a construct. Seeing Moriel stop in her tracks, he stepped around her and strode toward the empty seat. Since they had decided to cooperate, other worries could wait. Whether intentionally or not, Forty-seven always managed to make Moriel feel carefree and relaxed—pulling her along with him. Now, Moriel had to stop him before he overturned a chair or the liquor rack. Forty-seven first sat down on the chair, then leaned back to reach for the rack behind him. The poor wooden chair, supported only by its two back legs, was already struggling under his weight.

“Their tattoos look cool. I want one too,” Forty-seven said, looking at three well-equipped tattooed warriors at a nearby table.

“Don’t stare at them. It’s impolite,” Moriel warned him. She knew the only reason the two men and one woman, enduring his unabashed gaze, hadn’t drawn their swords was because, in front of her, a Red Robe Mage, they had no dignity or status. They were the Red Robe Mage’s bodyguards, enforcers, playthings, lackeys—slave warriors who had sworn eternal loyalty. Already pitiful enough.

But perhaps she could ask them some questions. Moriel wasn’t sure how many Red Robe Mages there were in the Deep Flow City stronghold besides Jiali, or which factions they belonged to. She needed to find out, as she didn’t want Jiali to be the only one who told her everything. A business stronghold as large and profitable as Deep Flow City couldn’t be controlled by just one mentor’s investment; there must be a delicate balance of power and interests maintained through compromise. So Moriel should make use of this balance as much as possible rather than recklessly breaking it. Here, she was isolated—without her mentor’s support, no own intelligence sources or trade network. Her only real assets were her magic and Forty-seven’s deadly strength. Moriel didn’t want to be someone else’s pawn, nor did she want Forty-seven to be someone else’s pawn, especially since his behavior always showed he seemed unbothered by it.

Moriel waved her finger at one of the female tattooed warriors, signaling her to come over.

“Please sit.”

The warrior hesitated for a moment upon hearing these words, unaccustomed to being treated so politely by a Red Robe Mage, but she obeyed the order.

She was tall, with shoulders as broad as a man’s. Beneath her tight leather armor were muscles as powerful as those of a leopard. Half of her hair had been shaved off, revealing intricate magical tattoos on her forehead—a strange appearance that struck fear into others. But in front of Moriel, she remained very respectful, lowering her head slightly to avoid eye contact.

“What’s your name?” Moriel abandoned the idea of offering her a drink and asked in a commanding tone.

“My name is Nancy, respected Miss Moriel,” the warrior replied cautiously, trying to ignore Forty-seven’s charcoal-red gaze.

“Oh? You know me?” Moriel set down her glass. “Are you Teacher Jiali’s guard warrior?”

“No, Miss Moriel,” Nancy said. “Actually, I am…”

The door of the tavern was thrown open. A warrior rushed in with a serious expression: “We’re in trouble! We need reinforcements!”
All the mages and warriors belonging to the Red Robe Mage Guild, except for non-combatants and a few outsiders, stood up. Nancy bowed to Moriel, and after receiving a slight nod of approval from her, she immediately turned, grabbed her long sword and shield, and shouted in a sharp tone completely different from that used when speaking to Moriel, “Get the bows and arrows! Unrelated people, please stay seated and don’t move around!”
The ordinary guards and tattooed warriors quickly left the tavern, with the mages following behind. They moved decisively and were well-trained; it was clear they would show no mercy to anyone who dared to threaten the interests of the Red Robe Mages. Forty-Seven and Moriel exchanged a glance and decided to go and take a look as well.
The atmosphere at the gate was already tense, on the verge of explosion.
Soldiers from the Red Robe Mage Guild who had rushed over joined the night guards, forming a semicircular formation to block the invaders at the main entrance. Archers on the watchtowers had their arrows nocked. From a distance, Moriel and Forty-Seven heard Nancy’s furious screams: “Let her go! You sick pervert! Or do you want to taste what it’s like to have sex with my sword?”
As Moriel approached, the soldiers at the stronghold stepped aside, focusing everyone’s attention on her—which wasn’t what Moriel had intended. Nancy stopped cursing and immediately surrounded Moriel with a few other tattooed warriors, blocking any possible angles for an attack and ready to protect the female mage with their weapons and bodies. This professional move even made the usually lazy Forty-Seven stand up straight and whistle in approval—though it sounded more like the hiss of a venomous snake inhaling.
“Evil Red Robe female mage, so you’re here after all!”
The holy warrior Moriel recognized the knight with a sword emitting white light across the neck of a little girl in a red robe—it was Fiona, whom she had met at noon. Her gem-like blue eyes reflected the light from the weapons and torches, her expression one of holy anger. If it weren’t for the fact that she was restraining a pitiful little girl barely reaching her chest, she could have easily served as an icon of divine justice against evil.
But that wasn’t a real little girl. She was a dwarf—Moriel recognized this from her wood-brown skin and slightly different physical features from humans. Fiona’s sword was pressed tightly against the dwarf woman’s neck; she could be cut if Fiona uttered even a single syllable. The holy warrior’s left hand, clad in white gloves, gripped her shoulder tightly, causing her wide red robe to fold and make the dwarf woman appear even thinner.
Behind Fiona were four knights on warhorses, also wearing silver-white armor, looking solemn like statues at the entrance of a temple—but their weapons and shields showed signs of recent combat.
Moriel frowned, purely because of Fiona’s aggressive attitude and her sympathy for seeing a spellcaster being forced by brute force: “What’s going on?”

“This Red Robe Mage dwarf is suspected of engaging in illegal drug trade with criminal organizations in Deep Flow City, and she even injured several Holy Warriors during our attempt to arrest her!” Fiona said arrogantly, as if she weren’t facing dangerous mages and warriors but just a bunch of ants. “As a servant of the Glorious Lord and a member of the noble Dawn Knights, I am now going to take this female dwarf away for a fair trial!”

If Moriel hadn’t been there, a fight would likely have broken out right away. Take a Red Robe Mage away from a stronghold? The archers on the stronghold’s side had already drawn their bows—warhorses snorted, and the knights on them raised their shields, ready for battle.

Moriel raised her hand to signal everyone to calm down. In this situation, she had no choice but to step in—after all, she used to be a Red Robe Mage herself.

“You’re Knight Fiona, right?” she asked the female Holy Warrior before her. The latter’s gaze was firm, devoid of fear. Such people were the hardest to persuade, as they wouldn’t allow anything related to their beliefs to be tarnished and firmly believed that black was black and white was white, with no middle ground.

“As far as I know… Red Robe Mages enjoy autonomous rights within commercial strongholds. They manage the strongholds on their own, and no one else has the right to interfere. Are you planning to violate the agreement between the Red Robe Mage order and the rulers of Deep Flow City?”

Fiona sneered disdainfully.

“But the residents of the stronghold also must abide by Deep Flow City’s laws!” she declared loudly. “This female dwarf was caught meeting criminals in Deep Flow City’s dock area, so she naturally deserves to be punished under Deep Flow City’s laws! Do you villains think you can get away with it just by hiding here?”

“Who is this girl?” Siqi Shi suddenly poked Nancy.

Nancy didn’t expect Moriel, this metal-skinned attendant, to dare interrupt her master’s negotiation, but she couldn’t just stay silent. “…Her? She’s a Holy Warrior of the Dawn Knights, a thug for the Glorious Temple!”

“Oh.” Siqi Shi glanced at Fiona. “I thought she was the law itself.”

Fiona’s face turned pale with anger. “Anyway…”

Distant thunderous hoofbeats came from the street.

It was Deep Flow City’s guard force—cavalry in chainmail speeding over, blocking the street from both ends.

The two leaders dismounted from their horses.

Fiona still held tightly onto the female dwarf mage, but she bowed respectfully toward the unusually tall middle-aged warrior clad in blue full-body armor and the slightly shorter noble man behind him. “Master Cassim, Sir Brown.”

The two nodded slightly in greeting.

The noble man glanced around and realized that Moriel was now the highest leader on the Red Robe Mage side. He stepped forward and bowed. “Good evening, respected female mage. I am Garen Brown, commander of Deep Flow City’s city guards. This is Sir Cassim, a Holy Knight of the Dawn Knights. Is Mage Jiali not here?”

Indeed, Jiali still hadn’t shown up—perhaps he thought this was a good opportunity to push Moriel to the forefront.

“Hello, Sir Brown.” Moriel deliberately ignored the tall paladin who was standing beside Fiona, whispering something to her, darkening the female paladin’s expression.
“Regarding the Dawn Knight Order’s seizure of the Red Robe Mage… is this the official position of Deepstream City?”
Galen Brown pondered for a moment before answering.
Moriel now concluded that the paladin didn’t have any leverage—at least no leverage over the Red Robe Mage.
After waiting a while, Brown said carefully, “The Dawn Knight Order is a noble organization respected and loved by the people of Deepstream City… We’re glad to have their help in combating all criminal activities that threaten Deepstream City. As for today’s dispute…”
“Why not ask the party involved?” Siqi Shi suddenly pointed at the female dwarf under Fiona’s control. “She has the right to remain silent, but it’s not mandatory.”
“Fiona,” Cassim in blue armor signaled to the female paladin. Fiona moved her sword slightly but didn’t let go. “But, Master Cassim…”
With a crisp sound, dazzling multicolored ripple-like light suddenly erupted centered on the female dwarf. Everyone was blinded by the light. By the time it faded, the female dwarf mage had broken free from Fiona’s grip and run toward the Red Robe Mage’s camp. Fiona leaped up like lightning, reaching for her neck, only to be met with Nancy and another tattooed warrior’s furious slashes and blows. Fiona’s sword, glowing with white light, shattered their weapons, but the female dwarf mage had already hidden among the soldiers. Trying to catch her again would surely lead to full-scale war.
“I didn’t do anything! You stupid paladins!” The female dwarf screamed, touching her throat. “I was just drinking in that tavern! The Red Robe Mage won’t just let this pass without retaliation for your unjust attacks!”
Whatever she had done before, she now absolved herself of any blame.
“You despicable wretch…” Fiona’s sword glowed brighter, but Cassim placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
With no hostages left, the soldiers of the trading post immediately grew restless.
“Nancy, teach this arrogant bitch a lesson…” The female dwarf mage cursed at Fiona angrily, but felt a sharp pain in her shoulder—the terrifying strength far exceeded that of a female paladin, like a vise gradually tightening. She looked up in shock to see a sharply defined face with a strange metallic sheen looking down at her. Its eyes were dark red like flames from an abyss, and the owner’s other hand was gripping Nancy. “Adults are talking—children shouldn’t interrupt.”
She never expected Siqi Shi to prevent war. Moriel felt she had to be firmer now to resolve the issue quickly. She was certain Sir Galen Brown hadn’t brought so many people just to attack the Red Robe Mage’s stronghold. “Sir Brown, do you insist on having the Dawn Knight Order take away this Red Robe Mage? I think we should resolve this with a more rational approach… I’m just a traveler who’s just arrived in Deepstream City; I actually don’t have much influence over them.”

Brown glanced back at Cassim, who looked displeased but said nothing.
“I believe magical drugs are harmful to the people of Deepflow City. We will continue to crack down on black-market drug trade without hesitation…” Brown then changed his tone: “But the Red Robe Mage Council is also an important trading partner of Deepflow City. We were reckless tonight; we will investigate thoroughly… Excuse us.”
Before leaving, Fiona turned back and glared at Moriel resentfully.
Moriel watched the guards disappear around the corner, then turned to the female dwarf mage rubbing her shoulder with a grim expression and Nancy, who was glaring at the forty-seven.
“Miss Moriel, you…” Nancy lowered her head, remembering that this steel-faced woman was a mage.
“Moriel?” The female dwarf suddenly raised her head to look at her, then exclaimed happily, “Moriel! Don’t you recognize me? It’s Kani! Oh, time flies so fast! When we were taking basic magic classes together, you were just a girl without any tattoos!”