Warriors will die if they charge.

Regardless of the situation with silver, life goes on as usual.

After dinner, Marcus, having just finished washing up, went up to the spacious master bedroom on the second floor. He looked at the sleeping beauty on the solid wood bed, breathing steadily, and familiarly lay down on the right side.

Of course, it's impossible not to have any impulsive thoughts when there's a beautiful woman sleeping next to you.

His restless right hand slowly moved along the gap in the mat, and in Zhuo'er's gradually opening scarlet eyes, it accurately grasped that hand with distinct knuckles.

His palms were cool and smooth, and his knuckles had calluses from long-term use of weapons.

Hey little red hand, can I borrow it for a moment...?

He had already decided to go all in on the rare pool with regular-grade tickets, and with Trish's luck, it was impossible for her to get a bad draw.

"Marcus," Zor said softly, "Do you know that this situation might be interpreted as an affair between us?"

"Hmm, you're right." Marcus stared intently at the spinning roulette wheel, automatically ignoring Drow's words. Big Head was constantly suppressing Little Norfitz.

"I've heard the rumors in town. They know about my drow identity. It might have been Aunt Nora who told me, or maybe... Bardin. After all, they're all big mouths."

"Nobody cares about your status here, as long as you're not a nobleman." He maintained his dazed gaze, after all, every all-in hand seemed too tempting.

"And you? Do you care about my Drow identity?"

"Me? You're a great beauty, with white hair and red eyes. Who could resist you? Just change your habit of breathing on your face, and I'll treat you like royalty."

"So you still don't like it? Get lost!"

Zhuo Er pulled his hand away abruptly. In that instant, Marcus unconsciously opened his mouth wide, watching the pointer slide towards the gray, blank area that resembled the end of the world.

You did not win any prizes.

He suddenly flew into a rage, panting heavily as he stared at Zhuo'er, who lay quietly beside him:

"What have you done, Hakis!"

"To stop someone from trying to act like a hooligan."

"Fine, you're going to be a scoundrel, huh?" Marcus nodded and pounced on the unsuspecting Drow like a hungry wolf.

Unexpectedly, he missed his target. With a twist of her body, Trish twisted and easily grabbed his arm, subduing him instantly with a backhand joint lock.

But this little trick was no challenge for Marcus. He showed no fear, ignored his elbow which seemed about to break, hooked his legs around Trissy's thighs, and began to practice the Death Coil technique of the Serpent Way for the first time.

The two wrestled, making the solid bed creak and groan.

You're stepping on my hair!

"Don't talk nonsense. Your kick just now almost cost me my happiness for the rest of my life."

"Anyway, you only like gambling, so it doesn't matter whether it's there or not."

"Damn it, I refuse to believe I can't handle you, you harkith."

The struggle ended with Trish, covered in sweat, clamping her legs around the warrior's chest in an armbar and gripping his strong arms tightly with both hands. Her long, silvery hair was half-covered in her cheeks as she said triumphantly:

"Give up, you're just a brainless soldier."

Marcus was being pressed down by those long, shapely legs, making it hard for him to breathe. It was so intense that it completely ruined my mood after losing all my bets.

He looked up at the tents rising in the darkness, his breathing becoming increasingly rapid.

"Hakis, you need to know..."

"What do you know? I know you've already given in."

"No, I really want to have an earth-shattering battle with you right now."

Zhuo'er's smug smile instantly froze. Her gaze slowly drifted to the area under the bed. In her infrared vision, there was an object that looked like a short blade, as red as molten lava.

"Get out!" she yelled, immediately releasing the armbar in a split second, barely perceptible to the naked eye, and instantly forgetting the trouble she had just caused.

The door slammed shut, and she leaned against the wall, her half-open white dress rising and falling with her breath.

How could he be interested in drow? Shouldn't he be like my father, acknowledging that drow are indeed attractive, but knowing their inner evil and cunning, and therefore feeling resistant?

Shouldn't my connection with him be limited to the contract with Mali...?

Trish lowered her head, seemingly still able to feel the sensation of her chest being pressed down by an arm.

Does he really see me as a woman?

No, if he truly considered me a woman, he should treat me with respect, absolute respect, not act like a jerk.

But I owe him a favor, a favor that is hard to repay.

Zhuoer frowned and pondered for a long time, but she couldn't find a way to repay the favor. What she wanted to do most now was to go to Silver Mountain City and find the Carter Society that Aunt Nora had mentioned before.

But how can I leave before I've repaid this favor?

After pondering for a long time, Trish suddenly had an idea.

Since he can't repay it, then don't repay it. As long as he becomes mine, all the problems will be solved. He has to come with me to find the Carter's Society.

She kicked open the door, looked at Marcus who was sighing at the moon outside the window, and coughed twice:

"Ahem, Marcus."

"..." Marcus turned his head and rolled his eyes at Hakis helplessly. If he didn't have a little affection for the drow, he wouldn't have kept her by his side.

But this woman has a problem with her brain, so he can only hope that she lives on the surface for a longer time and corrects the bad habits she had in the Underdark.

Trissy tugged at the hem of her dress, straightening her disheveled linen blouse. Then she reached over her shoulder, tossing her flowing silver hair back, her expression solemn, as if she were performing some kind of ritual.

"I've made up my mind. From this day forward, you will be my servant father."

"What? Are you sure you know what you're saying, Lady Trish?" He was so shocked that he couldn't speak for a moment.

In the matriarchal society of the Drow, a servant father is equivalent to the mistress's companion, or rather... her private property.

"Of course I know." Trish nodded, her expression unchanged as she returned to bed, shifted the wheat-ear pillow, and spread her long, silvery-white hair on the mat, as if nothing had happened.

"Since you rescued me from Emma's lies, and taken care of me for over a month on the surface, of course I'd feel good towards you, if we're talking about things from the surface's perspective..." She frowned, her thin eyebrows furrowing, seemingly confused by what she was about to say, like an ignorant little girl:

"This should be called love, yes, it is love."

But who talks about love like they're about to kill a few goblins today?

"And then?" Marcus glanced sideways, sensing that Hakis was about to say something outrageous.

"Then, since you are my servant father, it is only natural that you should stay by the mistress's side and serve her until she rests. All your efforts become reasonable."

"Reasonable my foot! I'm telling you, you know..."

"I know." Zhuo'er suddenly interrupted his rebuttal, her crimson, alluring eyes filled with an undisguised sadness:

"But I don't know what to do. This is the only way I can think of... If we become as cold as Louise and Angel because of what just happened, I don't even know whether to stay in town or go to Silver Mountain City."

Louise and Angel, a young couple who have just started dating, are eager to express their feelings to Louise because Angel is a little impulsive, while the girl is rather shy and hesitates to take the final step.

Anjie then used this incident as a topic of conversation, talking about it at length in the tavern. All the other girls in town were so enthusiastic and outgoing, but only that girl with freckles on her face regarded herself as a saint who had sworn a vow of fidelity.

Clearly, Trish had mistakenly applied their situation to the couple, which made Marcus feel that the cat that liked to hiss was even more adorable.

She clumsily adapts to the local culture and customs, yet she hardly hides her inner thoughts, just like me.

He lay down instantly and said impatiently:

"Alright, Madam, would you like me to massage your feet? I promise it will be very comfortable."