Two young men from Silver Forest Spear walked up the stairs when the youngster who had collided with someone earlier suddenly stopped. "Wu Di, what do you think the guild urgently called us back to Charter City for?"

"Probably for publicity and momentum—"

The young man showed an eager expression, "Is that so? I can't wait, do you think we can become a famous craftsman duo like the 'Blade of Yarnor'?"

Wu Di turned his head, giving his companion a dead-fish eye glance: "You can dream of anything in dreams."

"Hey, hey," the young man exclaimed, "People need to have dreams, what's the difference between us and those dried fishes outside without dreams?"

But Wu Di had already continued up the stairs without looking back, and the other had no choice but to quickly follow.

As they emerged from the staircase, a stern gaze swept over them. "What took you so long?" The speaker, a strikingly handsome young man in a black thick velvet coat, but with only a crew cut, was sizing them up with eyebrows furrowed, his gaze as sharp as two swords.

If looks could kill, Wu Di felt he would have been stabbed right through.

"Be careful," the young man nudged his companion from behind, whispering, "Military personnel."

Wu Di nodded.

"What are you murmuring about?" Zhang Tianmiu, the sub-captain of the Stargate Special Action Team, as well as a Republic Second Lieutenant at the age of twenty-four, furrowed his eyebrows and asked.

Being a military man, he had always despised the sluggish habits of these Chosen.

Military basic principles, discipline and obedience, were nowhere to be seen in them—

But he was also aware that after all, they were not military men.

In the corridor, quite a few people had already gathered. But clearly divided into two groups, beyond the Silver Forest Spear's silver combat robes, everyone else wore the uniform black coat uniforms.

The former group was loose and relaxed, while the latter stood together like a neat block of black, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, no one making any unnecessary noise.

Seeing this, Wu Di lowered his head slightly, replying in a soft voice, "Nothing, sorry, just got delayed on the road..."

Zhang Tianmiu, noncommittal, flicked his head: "Return to your formation."

At this moment, the young man dared not say anything more and obediently followed Wu Di into the formation of Silver Forest Spear. However, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the charter guild's mission leader—the deputy captain of the Seventh Squad—seemingly communicating something with the military Second Lieutenant.

"Captain Zhang," the deputy captain of the Seventh Squad of Silver Forest Spear whispered, "Shall we proceed as per the covenant?"

Zhang Tianmiu impatiently nodded, "Don't worry, the military won't interfere with your plans, but we will need your cooperation with our tasks—"

The deputy captain sighed in relief, "That's good, that's good."

The young man, witnessing this scene, grabbed someone and asked quietly, "Why is there military personnel here, what's their background?"

That person also lowered his voice to respond, "They are from the Special Preparation Team."

"Stargate Special Action Team?" the young man paused, "What are they doing here?"

But the other person shrugged, "Who knows, seems like they are looking for someone..."

...

Fang Hong, Gita, and Luo Yu were walking along a creaky wooden corridor.

This building seemed age-old, but its owner had maintained it well, with thick carpets laid on the floor and polished wooden panels that shone as if they were waxed.

Every detail was in its proper place.

They passed by rows of rooms, each door marked with a clear room number, from 1074 to 1092. Occasionally, they passed a terrace and groups of two or three adventurers.

"I, my mind was just blank at that time, not to mention being angry," Gita said, blushing and somewhat embarrassed, "But Fuli, she seemed really angry, am I too useless?"

Fang Hong just gently patted his shoulder.

After that unpleasant incident, the interest in seeing him test the "Emerald Bird" α had waned, and Atira and Tianlan had to go back to complete their assignment, so only the three of them were left—no, four, including the still unconscious Papalarian heavy crossbowman.

This corridor led directly to the Dragon Horn Hall—

The stone walls of the hall still held a fearsome dragon horn from the era of the Giants' wars, intricately carved with the adage "Never forget the fallen foe—" known to be passed down among dragon slayers till this day.

Fang Hong had long heard of the dragon horn, and couldn't wait to see it in person.

As they approached the turn near the stairs ahead, suddenly the familiar figures of a lady and her maid appeared, causing him to pause.

The young lady in a beige trench coat stopped at the bottom of the stairs, setting down the box she was carrying, and instructed her maid in a crystal-clear voice devoid of any impurity, "Xiesta, wait for me on the second floor."

The maid named Xiesta, with her light violet-lavender colored short hair and matching eyes, had a slender waist and was also quite the beauty.

But compared to her mistress, she paled in comparison.

The young lady stood there quietly and gracefully, like a beam of cold moonlight piercing one's heart.

Beneath her veil, her face revealed a pale beauty, with golden eyelashes hiding melancholic emerald eyes, her nose a graceful curve, her lips painted a tempting soft cherry color.

She was like the exquisite title page of a fairy tale book, filled with patterns of Wild Roses and Thorns, portraying a beautiful princess secluded in a castle, compelling one to delve into the mysterious story contained within.

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