Pillar of Yita

Through the glass window, the roof of Istania Artisans’ Guild is azure blue, with copper-like patterns that shine with a varnished luster in the sunlight. A little further away, high in the sky, there is a huge metal ring, with mysterious yet orderly patterns converging on it like flowing water. The ring is hollow, and it slowly rotates around the Guild building.

Looking down, the roads resemble one slender, straight line after another in ochre yellow, dividing Tansnier into grids, stretching to the seafront. The city is dotted with stars of green — palm trees; in the distance, the Cloud Lighthouse is clear to see, while further north lies an expanse of gray-white desert, reaching the horizon.

As you can see, the Istania Artisans’ Guild is built in the sky. The outer ring is actually a gigantic Guy device, also serving as a Defense Barrier, designed by Istania Artisans’ Guild’s first Chairman.

Bennil Dinger.

Mr. Abed is accompanying the mute servant, explaining the sequence of events to the craftsmen. The mute servant uses sign language to express his meaning, occasionally inserting an annotation. The others seem accustomed to this mode of communication, and none find it surprising.

The hall has an arched space, low but with one side being a glass curtain wall, making it bright. Green plants hang from the ceiling and a vividly colored carpet covers the floor. Fang Hong is rather fond of this place.

A middle-aged craftsman in an exquisite silk robe carries a silver teapot in his hand, passes through the hall, and comes to his side. ”Try the local tea drink.” The other party lifts the teapot and pours him a cup of tea.

Thin wisps of water vapor rise, and the tea cup fills with a clear black tea, a few leaves floating, deep as a ruby.

Fang Hong holds the teacup with both hands, quickly saying: ”Thank you.”

Alice, beside him, uses a cotton swab to carefully apply a strange potion to his cheek, seeing his actions she remarks irritably:

”Don’t move, my Lord Captain.”

The wounds on his face were left from previous combat, mostly just some grazes.

But Fang Hong fidgeted restlessly, making Alice rather annoyed, pressing the cotton swab onto his wound in frustration.

”Hiss—” Fang Hong bared his teeth immediately: ”Alice, gentle, gentle...”

”Then let your beloved Miss Ship’s Officer come, or Miss Atira. I’m just a small Nightingale, ignorant of nursing.”

”Miss Atira is out of the question, Hilveld’s real job is just a Gunslinger, hardly knowledgeable about nursing.”

”But she always treats what she considers precious with care, whereas I don’t have that patience, Lord Captain.”

”A little bit gentler is doable, right?”

”Can’t do it, Lord Captain.”

So Fang Hong continued to wail and cry.

The middle-aged craftsman patiently watched the two, and when Fang Hong had quieted down somewhat, he looked at the teacup in his hand with amusement, gently saying: ”Wouldn’t you like to try it?”

Fang Hong held the teacup, looking a bit aggrieved at Alice. Alice blinked gently, feigning ignorance: ”Why is Lord Captain looking at me? You can’t let outsiders misunderstand, thinking that I can influence Lord Captain’s decisions.

As for what the Lord Captain wants to do, he can decide for himself.”

Fang Hong’s face darkened. He thought, if it weren’t for you holding that ’weapon,’ he wouldn’t be so apprehensive, but in the troupe, except for Ai Xiaoxiao and Gita, every lady was hard to deal with.

He couldn’t afford to offend any of them.

Especially Miss Nightingale, who seemed gentle on the surface, but was all black-hearted inside.

He suddenly missed Alice.

Only then did he take a sip from the teacup, it was a little hot, but a refreshing and sweet taste spread in his mouth, invigorating him.

”Delicious!”

Fang Hong spontaneously exclaimed.

The middle-aged craftsman put down the teapot, smiled: ”The tea is brewed with jujube and golden silk wood leaves, quite common locally, although the Guild’s tea is naturally more authentic. You’re called Ade, right?”

Fang Hong put down the teacup and looked at him. He knew that the person wouldn’t come over without reason, but in Southern Kalin he had some reputation, yet that shouldn’t have spread here. After the previous aimless combat, he himself was filled with confusion—

Craftsmen visiting Sand Lodge later investigated and found that while the site of combat was severely damaged, it didn’t affect many bystanders. Including the first entering guards and the onlookers who were knocked away, only seven people died.

Among the deceased, only the young man died directly at the hands of the Alchemist; most of the other deceased were buried under collapsed buildings, indirectly killed by the incident.

In terms of the guards’ level at Sand Lodge, they’re roughly equivalent to Level 15 Invokers, quite ordinary. In fact, the Grand Princess and Abed did not expect them to be able to resist strong enemies, just enough to prevent most adventurers from brawling and causing trouble.

So compared to the Alchemist’s strength, they were worlds apart; if the opponent hadn’t intentionally held back, these guards would hardly have survived the first moment, especially those he knocked down.

As for the Invoker knocked away later who survived, that further proves the problem.