Above The Sky
Chapter 457 - 457 427 The Marquis's Invitation 33

457: Chapter 427: The Marquis’s Invitation (3/3) 457: Chapter 427: The Marquis’s Invitation (3/3) Atop the Silver Bazaar Company’s rooftop terrace, the white-haired youth sat in a recliner, reclining and gazing at the starless dark night above.

The glow of the Illusory Moon was bright, casting a silver-blue phosphorescence on the edges of the clouds, while beams of moonlight fell to the earth.

When they reached Twin Trees Town, however, they were overpowered by the lights within the village.

The streets were filled with lights and pedestrians; every household’s windows were adorned with fallen court flowers—a type of common, pale yellow flower seen often in home courtyards, named after their resemblance to speckles of sunlight in a yard.

In South Ridge, they symbolized ample harvest and unexpected wealth.

The so-called curfew couldn’t actually bring a large trading hub like Twin Trees Town to a standstill.

The shop owners had all paid their fines in advance, and the patrolling soldiers didn’t really want to get on the wrong side of their relatives and friends.

Thus, aside from deploying more patrols, they didn’t attempt to force any of the shops to close.

In essence, the chaos surrounding Nauman City was mostly contrived—the Dragon Worship Cult hadn’t attacked the city, the people from Canaan Moore were all inside the city, and both sides’ traitors were in their Silent Periods.

The only ones who might have caused trouble, the Spiritual Wisdom Institute, had lost a head, had no leaders left, and were all holed up in their own laboratories, not venturing outside.

Fiery Flame Land?

It was just a scapegoat; where would it find the real power to throw South Ridge into chaos?

At most, it could stir up some biological warfare, which wasn’t very effective.

Just like that, it had also lost several bases due to the actions of a certain Knight and was being surrounded and hunted by The Empire between the forests and mountain ranges.

Most likely, the majority had retreated back to the Western Province.

Of course, they might have succeeded in some timeline within the Worm Nest, but at this point in time, Fiery Flame Land had already exited the stage.

Ian looked at the lights in the city in such a manner, perusing the alchemical books in the Silver Chip in his mind while absentmindedly eating meat.

Lots of meat.

The waiters of the Silver Bazaar Company continuously brought up steaming hot dishes, including roasted meat with a crisply seared crust that sizzled with fat, and steamed fish that was meticulously cooked to tender perfection.

Even the sweet and sour pork ribs with honey vinegar that Ian had enjoyed in Gold Leaf Town were there, with the meat almost falling off the bone, dripping with a thick sauce, filling the entire terrace with a rich aroma.

Ian liked all of these; he chose a poultry leg to bite into, its crispy outer skin immediately cracking open as the juice burst forth, providing immense satisfaction.

Indeed, it tasted very good, he thought.

But what truly mattered was to come afterward.

Once chewed and swallowed, the food entered his stomach where the writhing Iron-patterned Stomach Pouch instantly pulverized it, and on the inner side of the stomach walls, nearly metallic grinding patterns covered black glands that secreted a special enzyme, breaking all the food down into a material very easily absorbed and then delivered to other digestive systems.

Eating and digesting—one of the most important human activities for obtaining energy and growth materials.

A series of chain reactions manifested externally as a mysterious warmth coursing through Ian’s entire body.

He could distinctly sense the structure of his muscles undergoing fine adjustments.

Some of the old fat, reserved for energy storage and insulation, was being gradually absorbed by his body and replaced.

The Iron-patterned Starfish was notoriously difficult to eat precisely because its energy storage structure was too resilient, akin to chewing rubber embedded with iron.

Moreover, the average human body couldn’t digest this specially modified fat, leading to intolerance similar to lactose intolerance or even causing allergies.

And now…

because the transformation process wasn’t so swift, Ian couldn’t be certain how much of a defensive boost this modification would grant him.

But at the very least, he was quite clear.

He had become not very tasty.

“But I wasn’t very tasty to begin with, so not much has changed,” he mused.

Having eaten five times his usual amount, Ian even felt a bit moreish; centered around him, waves of heat rose, creating an upward draft even on the top level of the Silver Bazaar Company.

This was the mystical phenomenon caused by his Body running at full capacity to digest food and reinforce itself.

And the Ancient Dragon Core had received a massive Primordial Replenishment, almost offsetting the energy Ian had expended in killing Baron Rayne and the Head of the Spiritual Wisdom Institute.

The capacity of the Iron-dissolving Stomach Pouch was confirmed; this digestive organ was indeed one of the Sublimation Organs Ian needed most at the moment.

“Ian.”

And just as Ian concluded his experiment and intended to return to his room to rest,

Suddenly, Mr.

Silver Workshop came over with a serious face and called out softly, “There’s something.”

“What is it, sir?”

The young man stopped in his tracks, curiously looking at the other party.

He had never seen Mr.

Silver Workshop look so solemn with him before—the kindly old man was always very cheerful, and even if he was troubled, he would cover up his expression, never showing his worries on his face like now.

“Someone is looking for you.

It should be a good thing…

but definitely not ordinary.”

The old man didn’t know Ian’s inner thoughts; he just sighed lightly, then furrowed his brows and said, “There’s an emissary from the Marquis below.”

“Ian, Marquis Barton wishes to see you.”

“Interesting.”

Ian raised his eyebrows and laughed, “Then what are we waiting for?

I’ll go downstairs now.”

The emissary of Marquis Barton was waiting downstairs—a young man from the Iron Folk whose attire was no different from that of an ordinary adventurer.

He wore a dark brown cloak, carried a hunting longbow on his back, with the arrow quiver hidden by the cloak and tucked beneath the leather armor, looking fairly cheap.

Besides that, his belt was hung with many small pieces of equipment and a curved sword, whose handle was very old but polished smooth and clean.

Clearly, if this adventurer hadn’t presented documents from Marquis Barton, Mr.

Silver Workshop would never have come so carefully to inform Ian.

When a noble sends such a secret agent, who has been in hiding for who knows how long, rather than a fully-armed knight, to extend an invitation.

The situation is certainly much more dangerous than usual.

“Knight Ian, the Marquis invites you as the representative of Harrison Port to attend the governor’s mansion tomorrow, for a meeting and banquet with the emissary of Canaan Moore.”

The emissary spoke without a hint of emotion, pulling out an invitation, “The time is before noon tomorrow, please make sure to arrive on time.”

The tone of the emissary was emotionless, all business, with an underlying command that was all too clear.

But Ian seemed to ignore the unfriendly warning of danger, instead smiling at the Iron Folk emissary and saying one word, “Seven times.”

The emissary appeared a bit puzzled; he couldn’t seem to understand what Ian meant by “seven times” at all, unswayed by Ian’s words.

However, the emotional perception brought by the Domain of Extremes enabled the young man to be sure that the emissary was indeed shocked for an instant.

Therefore, he confidently continued, “You just spied on the company three times from the street corner, from a distant rooftop, and through the crowd, to confirm my location.”

“Then you used your flying companions in the sky to ascertain my position, followed by using your small telescope on the left hand side to check my movements twice.”

“And before coming to find me, you used some kind of Sublimator’s ability to confirm my strength once more.”

“A total of seven times, unnoticed by anyone, very cautious, and very impressive.”

The adventurer was silent for a moment, then smiled, retracting the invitation in his hand.

“Knight Ian,” he nodded to Ian, then took something from his bosom and said calmly, “You have proved yourself, please forget what I said before.”

He handed Ian a badge, “The general invites you to dine with him tomorrow evening.”

“The general says, it’s alright if you come late, he doesn’t mind, but then the meat will all be gone, and you’ll only be able to join him for tea.”