Lion Heart Royal City, Camelot.

The cold, towering city walls and towers of the Royal Court block out the dawn; even though it’s already morning, the coastal city towards the west remains shrouded in darkness.

The cold wind whistled through the dirty snow on the streets; after a night, more curled-up bones appeared on the street side.

The weak, skeletal figures and muddy surroundings melded together; the stench of decay lingered in the air, overshadowed completely by the complex smell of alcohol.

The Lion Heart nobility would never reside by the harsh coastline; instead, they opted to live far above ground, indulging in debauchery within the castle walls, leaving the world outside the walls to be managed by their servants.

Thus, the population residing in the coastal area is quite complex; most take pride in being attendants to the nobility, serving the Lion Heart nobles inside the walls for generations.

Early dawn, the largest tavern by the coast was still open for business.

"Damn it! Everything is becoming more expensive and scarce!"

Someone slammed their glass heavily, face flushed from drinking, and shouted angrily at the tavern owner: "Wright, tell me why the price of rye whiskey has gone up again?!"

"You should go ask the rebels in the Southern Territory about that."

The tavern owner, Wright, was a one-eyed man missing three fingers.

Casually polishing a cup, he snorted coldly: "Rebel Roland has already issued a prohibition order across the Southern and half of the Eastern Territories, and half of the distilleries that supplied me have been destroyed by the rebels."

Although the large distilleries in the Kingdom are mainly concentrated in the Northern Border, those high-quality beverages have always been in demand among the noble lords, and not a single drop is spared for others.

These noble servants are only fit to drink the inferior beverages provided by other regions.

"Without the distilleries, the beverages become scarce, and naturally, prices have to go up."

Wright said indifferently: "Is such a simple logic necessary to repeat?"

The drunkards immediately erupted in curses.

Because alcohol is incredibly important to them!

As servants or attendants to the nobility, they naturally have tasted the marvelous wines at noble banquets, those red, exquisite liquids that could make one deeply intoxicated with just a whiff.

Thus, even if it means spending their fortune, the noble servants insist on consuming enough alcohol daily, as only this can turn their restless moods pleasant again.

"You better not cause trouble here; my master is the Marquis of Rosen."

Seeing the crowd getting a bit agitated, Wright reminded them with a cold face: "To provoke me is to challenge the Marquis’ dignity!"

The drinkers began to calm down a bit; after all, Seven-fingered Wright indeed was not someone to be trifled with.

Wright controls most of the inferior alcohol and prostitution industries within the Royal City.

It’s said that to please the Marquis, this fellow even sent his own wife and daughter to be toyed with by the nobles, thus gaining the Marquis’ favor.

Truly... truly enviable...

The man who spoke first snorted, no longer targeting the tavern owner, since his master was merely a Count.

So, he vented his resentment on the rebels.

"That damned rebellious Viscount must have made a deal with the devil!"

The man flushed with anger: "How... how dare he betray the honor bestowed by the late king!"

"I’ve heard quite a few noble lords have already fled back from losing their lands in the Eastern Border..."

Another person chimed in, looking uneasy: "A Guard Captain told me that Lord Roland has trained knights capable of wielding terrifying flames."

"Shut up! What do you know? The noble lords cannot fail."

The man gritted his teeth: "Lion Heart’s glory will never be tarnished; the knights in the Western Border will surely decapitate all the rebels!"

"That’s right, Lord Roland will definitely pay the price!"

The crowd began to chatter.

Just then, the tavern door suddenly swung open, and everyone turned their heads to find a tall woman standing at the entrance.

She had stunning looks with a high ponytail, dressed in a deep black double-breasted coat and leather boots, and her scarlet vertical pupils were filled with wildness and edge.

"Hey, stop right there; outsiders aren’t welcome here."

Wright gave the uninvited guest at the door a stark look: "Only attendants serving the nobility may enter my tavern."

"Don’t be so rigid."

Eleanor grinned, showing some intimidating sharp teeth: "Do you think I care about such ridiculous rules?"

"No one breaks rules in Seven-fingered Wright’s establishment! Aren’t you aware my master is the Marquis of Rosen?!"

Wright exclaimed angrily: "You wench are asking for—"

The next moment, he saw the woman draw a peculiarly shaped revolver from her waist, clenching it in her hand.

"But then again, a lady of your stature naturally isn’t bound by a servant’s rules."

Wright swallowed hard and promptly raised his hands, indicating no malice intent.

Another formidable individual...

Ever since Princess Olivia opened the port to welcome those Alliance people of equal status as the noble lords, more and more strange folks had been appearing in Camelot...

Although Lord Sigma had left not long ago, Wright still dared not ask too many questions.

After all, even the noble Marquis shows great respect to those Alliance people!

Seeing the tall woman choose the largest table, she occupied the most comfortable seat, using the revolver in her hand to kindly ask some guests to leave their seats.