Warriors will die if they charge.

Where are they?

They ran away.

"Damn it, a bunch of slippery mudskippers." Bardin spat on the ground, enraged by the dwarf's joke to the point that the dwarf ranger, whose combat experience far surpassed that of the dock warriors, turned his attention to a useless, fingerless thief.

"Are you alright?"

Marcus shook his head: "That orc beast abandoned Kelly and ran away alone. He's just a showpiece, no threat at all."

"Where is Kali?"

"I grabbed her leg, and she used her hip to choke my face, and I got hit on the back of my head."

Bardin was silent for a moment, then patted Marcus's arm: "Go back and get checked by a doctor, don't catch a sexually transmitted disease. I've heard that many female adventurers have unusual fetishes, and some even put poison in their vaginas."

"..." Marcus nodded with difficulty, a question rising in his mind: Could troll regeneration cure sexually transmitted diseases?

The two looked at the magic circle radiating a milky white glow at the end of the tunnel and sighed at the same time. They had completely become prisoners of the devil's game.

"Let's go, don't take anything. I just observed that the orc beast's weight is a bit strange; it's probably carrying too much gold."

"Yes, taking the devil's gold will only bring you trouble."

As he stepped into the magic circle, a flash of light appeared, and Marcus instinctively clenched his fist and raised it to his chest, wary of any possible attack.

The rushing water, the rustling of flowers and grass in the wind, and a fragrant aroma filled my mind.

He opened his eyes and found a dazzling ray of sunlight shining into his view. Under the azure dome was an elegant courtyard, with marble columns, steps and flower beds filled with all sorts of items.

Swords, shields and axes, books, medicine bottles... As Emma said, his praise for heroes was by no means limited to gold.

Trouble.

This was the first thought that came to Marcus's mind when he saw the dazzling array of items. In the tunnel battle just now, if Kelly had had a sword, he would definitely have died, but the reverse would also be true.

In the devil's game, you are not only tested on how to resist desires, but also on how to face the unknown.

He can ignore these things and walk away, but who can guarantee the choices of the stray dogs? They will definitely be well prepared for the next battle.

Marcus stepped forward and picked up a book from the wooden shelf—"Combat Techniques: Lion Slash".

He tried to open it to take a look, but this combat skills manual with copper inlays in the four corners was like a solid brick; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't turn a single page.

Bardin walked to the other side, picked up a finely crafted axe, its steel blade shimmering with magical light, and its surface engraved with some dwarven runes he had never seen before.

He stared at the rune for a long time, then put it down, muttering to himself in a low voice, as if speaking to Marcus, yet also as if speaking to himself:

"Buddy, we can't take the devil's stuff, it'll get us into trouble."

Marcus remained noncommittal. He walked to the glass cabinet filled with parchment scrolls, picked up a scroll branded with a griffin emblem, and examined it.

The scroll could not be opened, but a sentence automatically flashed through his mind—the Duke's Certificate of the Griffin Kingdom.

Yes, it seems Emma Lee wasn't lying after all. Not only combat skills, weapons, and knowledge, but even power itself are tools for the devil to manipulate people's hearts.

The two first looked through the items that interested them, then silently walked to the wooden rack piled with weapons.

Bardin's hand rested on the handle of a powerful crossbow, but he neither picked it up nor moved away.

Marcus stood beside him, picking up a steel longsword with a wide guard featuring a cross-shaped hilt, a non-slip fish-scale pattern, and a silver weight inlaid with blood-drop-shaped gems, giving the longsword a solemn and mysterious air amidst its simplicity.

Compared to the weapons on the wooden frame, whose magical halos were almost blinding, this longsword looked quite plain.

"Don't make deals with the devil, tough guy. Hatred must be settled with blood and fire. The devil's power will only lure you into hell."

Bardeen, as if reaffirming his principles, instructed Marcus to grasp the hilt of his sword and draw the blade from its exquisite scabbard.

The sword was straight and sharp, with a line of strange, incomprehensible runes in the blood groove. It was slightly warm in the sunlight streaming into the courtyard, like fresh blood that was breathing.

"I know, dwarf brother... if you're killed by a pack of stray dogs, how will you find the Hammer of Destiny?"

Bardin's beard trembled for a moment, then he pressed his palm down, trying to grasp the handle of the crossbow.

The sharp steel blade suddenly pressed against the handle of the crossbow. Bardin turned his head, his eyes resolute:

"We are teammates."

"As Emery said, trust is a burden, Bardeen." Marcus flipped the sword and lightly tapped the wooden hilt of the crossbow.

"You already carry too much on your shoulders. Don't add to your burdens. I can spend my whole life paying off the debt to the devil. You have a more important mission. One sword is enough. Give me this burden."

The dwarf opened his mouth and chewed his beard, signifying that he was experiencing immense inner struggle and pain.

He closed his eyes in anguish: "Tough guy, give me a two-handed axe, and I can chop those three stray dogs into mincemeat."

"You're a ranger, Bardin. Don't always think of yourself as a warrior." Marcus patted the dwarf on the shoulder and pulled Bardin, who was lost in his memories, away from the wooden frame that symbolized temptation and darkness.

This is indeed a dangerous choice. He can't guarantee what the stray dog ​​will take: power, wealth, knowledge, or a weapon that will gulp down rye in the next tunnel.

But Marcus was willing to gamble that those greedy guys weren't after survival.

Based on the Duke's Certificate we just saw, the stray dog ​​will definitely overturn the palace full of treasures, forcing someone to make the necessary "sacrifice" for the team to get unwanted weapons.

He put the blood-dripping longsword into his backpack. This was the devil's rule: only what you put into your backpack belongs to you.

The moment the longsword entered his backpack, Marcus felt a sudden increase in pressure on his shoulders. It felt heavy, like a log on a dock, and his hands and feet became sluggish and stiff.

He took several deep breaths, his mind resolute—he would only take this sword.

Carrying too many things could easily crush you to death!

-

As the light faded, Kelly opened her eyes.

She saw a space completely different from the golden palace—marble columns, an open courtyard, sunlight pouring down from an unseen dome, and shelves filled with weapons, books, scrolls, and medicine bottles. She instinctively touched her side; it was empty. A sword should have been hanging there.

“Emmaley said there’s everything here,” Duncan’s voice came from behind her, tinged with a hesitation she’d never heard before: “including a weapon that can cure rye.”

Kelly didn't turn around; her gaze swept over the display of Moga on the steps and stopped at a slender, sturdy hilt.

"Where's Oha?"