Warriors will die if they charge.

After finishing dinner, Marcus took out bridge and began a tense and exciting activity with Bardeen.

As a temporary addition to the rye wine tavern, Trish listens to the adventurers' boasts and gathers information in the gradually bustling tavern, while also observing the two people shouting and yelling in the card game.

"Bardin, I didn't expect you to have this trick up your sleeve. I've heard that dwarves are honest and reliable masters, but you actually used a wooden stick soldier to eat my knight."

"That's wisdom, tough guy. I win this round, haha."

"Oh dear, it seems the wisdom of dwarves isn't always reliable; they've been completely bewitched by a small card."

"It seems that even a gambler's wisdom isn't always reliable; he's been bewitched by a sorcerer."

Bardin's strange polyphony made Trissy's pointed ears tremble slightly.

A mage? She hadn't encountered a mage on the surface yet; her father said that spellcasters on the surface were all dangerous.

No matter what they disguise themselves as, they are essentially a group of sophisticated egoists, including himself.

She watched the two men moving several copper coins back and forth on the table, feeling puzzled.

Gambling is uncommon in the Underdark. The Drow do everything with meticulous calculation and estimation. Except for winning the favor of the goddess Lolth, which is like a gamble, most of the time they prefer to use intrigue and killing to gain benefits.

If this bridge-style betting game is valuable, then there won't just be a few coins on the table. If the game is worthless, then why would they waste their time on it?

Training, resting, meditating, reading—doing anything is probably more useful than playing cards.

Trish observed the cards for two hands and noticed a strange phenomenon—Marcus, the gambler, couldn't help but fold big hands, winning the first two rounds before getting bogged down in a tough battle.

Bardin, on the other hand, was a gambling addict who couldn't resist the temptation. The dwarf's competitive spirit made him like to follow the cards, but in the end, he was unlucky and lost the game.

If I were to fight them, I could definitely kill those two idiots like goblins with their toes stepped on.

Having just lost a game, Bardin was a little annoyed. Noticing the red glow in Zhuo'er's eyes across from him, he puffed out his beard and said, "It must be her. This woman is in cahoots with you; she helped you cheat."

"Dwarf brother, don't accuse me. There's a bottom line to playing cards. Do you think I'm the kind of person who cheats?" Marcus chuckled, pressing the copper coin to his side and turning to look at Trissy. "How about a tense and exciting game of bridge?"

"I'll give it a try."

In the new round, Trish took the stage. She lost the first two rounds to familiarize herself with the rules, and then, under Bardin's smug gaze, easily defeated the remaining nine rounds.

Bardin, who didn't believe in superstition, called Marcus over, and the dwarf was convinced that the two were in cahoots.

In the second game, Bardin lost again, failing to score a single point in the end.

In the third game, Marcus played and lost all his matches.

In the fourth round, the two tough guys started arguing about how to play their cards, but no matter how hard they tried, they still couldn't beat Lady Trish, who had perfect luck, calculation, and cold reading skills.

"This is pointless, what kind of bullshit is this!" Marcus pressed down the last, smallest card in his hand, a stick and a wheat ear. Damn it, what's going on? All of them are low cards.

How can you play against a Drow who can kill everyone with the smallest Knight card in his hand?

Trish watched Marcus, who was getting frustrated and losing, and found it amusing. Since yesterday, this man had always been very calm and reliable, only showing a different side when playing cards.

She presented the ten copper coins she had won: "This is for the meal. I will pay back the rest as soon as possible."

"Ugh, what bad luck! It's all that unlucky bastard Bardin's fault; he ruined all my luck."

Marcus put the gambling money into his pocket, his eyes wide, lamenting that Trish was simply a menace to his gambling addiction.

With the lively atmosphere of the card game gone, he chatted with Bardin about some things, mainly about the professional system that Captain Fielding had mentioned during the day.

When asked which level Bardin belonged to, he gave a vague explanation:

"As for me, I previously obtained the certification of a second-tier ranger in the Hunter's Guild. My mission was to help an adventurer team track down trolls in the mountains, so I casually threw a few incendiary bombs and sulfuric acid bottles to give them the opportunity to make a move."

After the ranger in the party introduced me to the guild, I fired a few crossbow bolts at a moving target and dealt with a few tails hiding behind me. They then certified me as a Tier 2 ranger.

You're much more reliable at swinging an axe than a crossbow bolt, and you even have the right to call yourself a ranger? I'm just a melee mage who can't use magic.

But after careful consideration, Marcus thought this authentication method was reasonable, since some people can always do multiple jobs; this isn't a game world where a certain path is welded shut.

A dwarf who is more reliable with an axe than a crossbow, but is also skilled at tracking across the wasteland and surviving in the wild, isn't that just a ranger, as long as he's not a warrior?

He was certain that Bardin, who was in the second treasure vault, wasn't exaggerating when he said he could chop stray dogs into mincemeat with a two-handed battle axe.

He hiccuped. "We should find some work to do. We're never going to have enough money. Look at Trissy, she doesn't even have a decent weapon. She even secretly..."

"Shut up, Marcus!"

"Fine, fine, you stubborn woman."

At the next table, a handsome man kept his attention on Marcus's table. The adventurer circle in Riverside Town was small, and the news of the notorious stray dogs' complete disappearance spread quickly.

Most people believe that the stray dog ​​was killed by the rye beer squad, which was not yet registered with the union, while they were dividing the spoils.

The man walked to the bar and asked Aunt Nora in a low voice about the rye. After getting some basic information, he picked up two bottles of rye and, as if they were old friends, sat down on a bench next to Trish.

He was about to speak when he heard a voice as cold as frost.

"Get out of here."

The man smiled at Marcus: "I am Lawrence, the captain of the Iron Tree..."

"Get out of here for the last time."

Trissy's head was lowered, and her face was covered by her hood, making it difficult to see her features.

Marcus sighed and suggested that Lawrence stand up and sit down to talk.

But the man who came to talk to her clearly didn't take Trish's threat seriously. The bottle fell, and then his hand was stabbed into the wooden table by a dagger.

bang~

Lawrence stared wide-eyed at Tracy's pale arms, which she had just tucked into her cloak. He had just confirmed that this woman spoke softly while playing cards, even keeping her hands restrained on her chest, and that her posture and movements were like those of a sheltered young lady.

Pain shot through his hand where the dagger had pierced it. He gritted his teeth, staring at his bleeding hand, then turned to his companion beside him to remain calm. He then spoke in a low voice to a helpless-looking Marcus:

"Friends, I haven't offended you, have I?"

"I didn't offend her," Marcus sighed inwardly, but you've inadvertently crossed the drow elf's defensive boundary; she doesn't like strangers getting close.