Chapter 166 Coincidence

The gorgeous whip inlaid with gems and gold threads appeared in Maxine's palm.

The red-haired girl frowned in dissatisfaction. The whip was heavy, yet it had produced a sharp sonic boom. If it had hit her hard, her skin would have been torn to pieces, and she might even have broken a few bones. How could an ordinary person withstand such a vicious blow?

The man wielding the whip actually looked like a young boy, not very old, dressed in gorgeous clothes, with intricate gold ornaments around his waist, neck and wrists. He had a face with distinctly exotic features, and was staring with shock and anger at the girl in front of him who dared to stop him.

The red-haired girl was dressed in plain, dusty clothes, exactly like the other untouchable with a nasty look in her eyes. Her palms were wrapped in bandages, and her arms, unlike the delicate and slender slaves serving the Alan royal family, showed obvious signs of labor. It was obvious at a glance that she was also a lowly commoner, and yet she had dared to take his whip with her hands.

The young man couldn't help but frown in disgust, and suddenly pulled his hand away, trying to pull the whip out, and at least cut the other person's palm - but it didn't work.

The seemingly inconspicuous girl was surprisingly strong, and the whip sheath remained motionless in her hand.

Maxine frowned and said, "This is a market, it's inevitable to be crowded. Why do you hit people just because you disagree with me?"

"How dare you, you lowly beast, snatch my whip?" The other man, still arrogant, cursed at the two in his awkward English: "Who gave you permission to look me in the face?"

The crowds around had already dispersed, fearing that they would be affected by the wrath of this foreign noble who looked difficult to deal with.

——It’s confirmed, it’s Hadi, the little prince of the Alan tribe.

The professor stood behind Marceline, staring at people with narrowed eyes.

At first, he simply smelled a special kind of incense, intricately crafted and extremely rare. He had only managed to obtain a fingernail-sized sliver by chance, a scent typically found only by the nobles and royal families of southern nations, who would sprinkle it on their lapels after it burned out. A certain association made him glance at the other person, and that glance would lead to trouble.

——But it can be regarded as verifying his guess.

"And you're still cursing." Marcylin frowned in dissatisfaction. She didn't want to fight here. This man looked like a noble, but he wasn't as strong as her. If she lost control of her strength and killed him in public, it would be a big hassle.

She simply exerted a little force with her palm, and the long whip made of fine leather and metal actually broke into pieces in her palm. The other party seemed stunned, caught off guard, and she snatched the whip from his hand and threw it to the ground.

This is a very rare and expensive magical tool, yet it was destroyed by a woman. Hardy reacted and flew into a rage, with a faint black mist appearing in his hand.

"You—"

The gray-robed man standing behind the woman suddenly stepped forward and said, "Your Highness, didn't your teacher tell you not to cause trouble in Port Morris?"

Hardy was stunned. The other party was not speaking the common language of the Ambrose continent, but the official language of the Alan tribe, Lama.

The little prince had always been violent and unruly, but he was not a madman who went crazy for no reason. He quickly calmed down and squinted his eyes to look at the other person again - a Sylvie, tall and thin, with only a pale face showing through his body, and his impressive smoky gray eyes were particularly unpleasant.

...Hateful guy, he felt extremely disgusted the first time he saw him, and the uncontrollable violent emotion deep in his chest kept rising.

Hadi also used the Ramat language to test: "You know my identity, and you still dare to speak to me like this?"

The other party did not answer, but just raised his eyelids and glanced at him coldly, which made Hadi's face change drastically: "You don't have much time."

His tone was cold and indifferent: "Do you really think it's impossible to complete a deal with the gods without paying any price?"

The gods weren't philanthropists. Talon's three-year early ascension was likely due to some kind of bargain with the god of night and death. King Charon was old and, rumor had it, had been bedridden for a long time. The next king of the Alan tribe would be born from one of Charon's two sons. At this critical juncture, Prince Hadi chose to conceal his identity and travel all the way to Port Morris. Clearly, they had a compelling reason—perhaps unfulfilled conditions imposed by the gods.

Mashilin stood aside, bewilderedly watching the emperor suddenly step forward to negotiate. She couldn't understand what either side was saying, but she could only see that the foreign noble, who had been so arrogant just moments ago, suddenly looked wary, even with a hint of fear in his expression.

——There are all kinds of people here. Does anyone know if there are other people who can speak Lama language?

Seeing that the person seemed to be about to turn around and leave, Hardy wanted to grab the person, but was blocked by the red-haired girl: "Who do you belong to?"

Is it the eldest prince Nito or King Charon?

...Could it be the priest of the Temple of Night?

But the man did not stop, and slowly disappeared into the crowd with the woman who was suspected to be his bodyguard.

"...Mr. Nova?"

As Maxine chased him, she heard him whisper, "Hurry up! That's Hadi, the little prince of the Alan tribe. Talon might be nearby."

...If nothing else happened, his pretentiousness might have made the little prince suspicious, and he wouldn't dare attack them rashly for the time being. But this rhetoric was unlikely to instill fear in a Saint—especially since he was accompanied by Maxlin, who had suffered the consequences of her past as a warrior and hadn't yet recovered to her peak form. Not to mention facing a dark Saint alone with an ordinary person as a burden.

No matter what, it’s better to slip away first.

Maxine, who quickly understood the stakes, also looked serious. Then Nova heard the red-haired girl beside him whisper an insult, and the next second she was lifted up and held by the waist under the arm.

professor:"……?"

The scene should have been hilarious, a tall man being held by the comparatively petite girl. But the professor had no time to care, for before he could react, the world suddenly spun around him. The rapidly receding scenery made him dizzy, and his waist felt like it was clamped in an iron clamp, and the dull pain from the gravity weighing him down was unbearable.

When he was finally put down, he held onto the wall and couldn't help but dry heave a few times, but there was no food in his stomach.

"...Someone is really tracking us." After putting the person down gently, Ma Shilin stared at the figure flying past outside the alley with extreme vigilance.

She had witnessed firsthand the emperor's terrifying insight and decisiveness. If it had been her or Orel, they would probably have simply dismissed him as an arrogant, difficult, and annoying noble. Orel, with his explosive temper, might even have sought an opportunity to assassinate him—which would have been truly catastrophic.

The red-haired girl turned around and was about to say something to the man, but when she saw that he looked listless and pale, she was immediately shocked. "What's wrong? Did I use too much force?"

It's over, it's over. He won't die, will he? She wanted to step forward to support the other person, but she was afraid of hurting him again. She thought with extreme fear, she was obviously deliberately controlling her strength!

The other party reluctantly raised his head and glanced at her: "...I'm fine, it's not your problem."

But when he saw the red-haired girl seemed to want to come forward to help him, he immediately took a step back cautiously, and the dull pain in his waist seemed to be getting worse.

Maxine: "..."

As expected, she was rejected again. She thought with great sadness, will she be able to get those wonderful "bribes" in the future?

"And you came back like this?" Orel crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at the people.

"You have no idea how annoying that Hardy is," Marcylin complained to her friend. "If I wasn't worried about Talon being nearby, I would have smashed his head into the ground."

"The professor's judgment is correct." Azuka frowned slightly. "When Ole and I came back, we saw Talon. He was not far from the place you mentioned. He seemed to be looking for something. Now it seems that he was looking for you."

"You're so arrogant even on someone else's territory." Orel tutted in dissatisfaction, then raised his chin stiffly towards the tyrant who was curled up listlessly on the sofa beside him. "Hey, can I kill that little prince?"

"Not now. He should have a divine mark on his body." The professor said expressionlessly. Seeing everyone's shocked expressions, he paused and said, "I guess it's on his arm. When I mentioned the gods, he would subconsciously touch his arm."

"Hadi picked on us so precisely among a group of people. If it was just a coincidence caused by his personality, then it would be fine." The black-haired young man said calmly, "But what if this was a 'premeditated plan', no matter whose 'premeditated plan' was?"

After what happened with Bill Farm, he no longer believed in so-called "coincidences."

"I don't understand."

Marcyline glanced at Azuka, who seemed lost in thought, and at Ole, whose expression was stern and emotionless—she swore he didn't understand either and was just pretending—and raised her hand and spoke with remarkable honesty.

"Remember those people who deliberately picked on me in my past life?" Before the professor could speak, Azuka took the lead in explaining, "The reasons were stranger than the last."

"Ah, I see," the red-haired girl said, suddenly realizing, "For example, that little noble who thinks you're seducing his fiancée by smiling at her—uh."

She suddenly realized it was inappropriate to bring this up in front of someone she was flirting with, so she quickly evaded the question, only sighing in shock, "I was wondering why you always seem to be attracting psychopaths. Are you cursed?... So, could this also be related to the gods?"

God is so boring.

"Maybe." Azuka sighed and glanced in the professor's direction - somehow, the other party seemed a little wilted and his face did not look good.

But he soon understood why.

After Ole and Marshilin left, the person curled up on the sofa suddenly reached out to him.

"My waist hurts. It's uncomfortable." His old enemy remained expressionless as always, but from the savior's perspective, he could see a hint of coquettishness in his words: "Please heal me—excuse me?"