Imperial Crown.

Chapter 535 Black Scorpion and Tail Sting

"Hey, newbie, what's your name?"

A large, plump swamp frog dressed in overalls pushed a glass of murky blue liquid across its four goblin-like green fingers toward a human bard sitting behind the counter, asking with a hint of curiosity. It then lowered its voice further, speaking mysteriously, "This drink is called 'Rewinding Potion,' a concoction I made with expensive angel tears and various rare magical ingredients. Drinking it will take you back to the past. It's only sold at my Continental Inn tavern. The only one on the entire continent. Try it; it's my treat since it's your first time at the Continental Inn. My name is Quarlock, but everyone prefers to call me—Mr. Frog. May I ask your name?"

Clearly, the speaker was an orc of the frog-man race. Before him stood a human bard, wearing a black top hat, carrying a cane, and dressed impeccably. He was thin, most of his face hidden beneath the hat, though his strong jawline hinted at a handsome face. The bard didn't drink the wine; instead, he extended his index and middle fingers, forming a sword-like shape, and gently pushed the blue liquid back, making a dull thud on the patina-covered, engraved yellow table. "Just a cup of pure angel's tears will do," the bard said, tossing out three silver coins. "Thank you, Mr. Frog Demon." He didn't answer with his name.

“Oh?” Quarlock was slightly surprised. “It seems you are also a person with a story.” “A mysterious and sad past that you are unwilling to recall.” “You really don’t want to try it? You know, this cup of Rewind Potion costs 8.88 silver coins.” Mr. Frog continued to promote his product with great effort, seemingly having a very firm confidence in his own concoction.

“No.” The bard pulled his hat brim down slightly. “I just don’t like drinking other people’s bathwater.” He then tapped the table. “Besides, memories only punish those who are nostalgic.” “I think…” “I don’t have a nostalgic heart.”

Upon hearing this, Quarlock's enormous frog-like head paled. In fact, the so-called Rewind Potion was simply Angel's Tears mixed with some toxins secreted from his body. By controlling the amount of toxin, it could induce hallucinations in the drinker, allowing them to see deeply buried memories of the past or figures they had longed for. Many were irresistibly drawn to it. This was his proudest achievement and his most deeply hidden secret. How did this newcomer, a human, know all this?

Quarlock was filled with surprise and suspicion. Considering the other party's refusal to reveal their name, his tiny, fist-sized eyes darted around, and he deduced that the other person was likely a human extraordinary being or a mage. The bard was merely a disguise. A mage was more likely, because only noble mages possessed powerful spiritual abilities, allowing them to perceive things imperceptible to ordinary people.

"My apologies." Quarlock hurriedly put away the Rewind Potion, then replaced it with a clean cup, filled two cups with Angel's Tears, and presented them to the bard with both hands. "The other cup is my apology. Please forgive my rudeness, esteemed guest."

"Thank you for your generosity." The bard expressed his gratitude in a low-key and polite manner. "Mr. Magic Frog." "You are the most generous orc I have ever met."

"Everything is the best arrangement of fate," Quarok said with a smile. As an orc who ran a large tavern in the eastern region of the Elven Empire, Quarok naturally possessed extraordinary wisdom. He knew who he couldn't offend and who he needed to cultivate relationships with. Taking out a wine glass, he lightly clinked it with the other person's, then Quarok leaned forward familiarly and whispered, "I suppose your esteemed presence in the Elven Empire is also for that matter?" After speaking, he gestured with his eyes to a corner of the tavern and nodded, "Look, that man, like you, is also alone. The famous Black Scorpion, a fourth-tier transcendent."

The bard tilted his head slightly, glancing out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, he saw a graceful figure sitting in the dim corner of the tavern, completely clad in black leather and a mask. Her leather had a unique texture; it resembled armor, yet it clung tightly to her curves, like a form-fitting lingerie set. While seemingly leather, it was also inlaid with numerous, decorative, golden iron plates, protecting her softer parts. It gleamed with a faint metallic sheen. Most striking was her mask, resembling half a mask, with a V-shaped opening at the forehead, firmly covering her face. It was described as half a mask because it only reached below the nose, leaving her delicate, pink lips still visible. The mask didn't completely cover her face, but rather tilted like a sun hat, leaving a finger-width gap between it and her cheeks. Most remarkably, the mask had no openwork sections, not even for her eyes. Instead, it flashed a dangerous crimson light. Narrow bands of light flickered on the visor, resembling a woman's eyes. It was clearly an enchanted item. Behind her head was a long, brown braid.

When the bard turned around, Quarlock continued, "She's also here for the ruins. If you need, I can help you two form an adventurer team. However, Black Scorpion is aloof and difficult to get along with, and she's very picky. If your strength isn't up to par, she'll look down on you."

The bard silently drank the tears of angels, without uttering a word.

Quarlock could only explain again, "Look over there, four Tier 3 Transcendent beings!! They are the renowned mercenaries of the Cartier Province of the Keynes Empire, known as Raven Anvil. Their mission is to find the only daughter of Count Duna of the Cartier Province. Hearing that his beloved daughter is missing, Count Duna has gone mad with worry! He has offered a reward of 50,000 gold coins for her whereabouts! Originally, they were supposed to go to the Eastern Region, which borders the Elven Empire and Cartier Province. But as you know, there is an ancient forest there that devours people without spitting out bones, and there are too many magical beasts, making it too dangerous. If Count Duna's daughter is truly lost in the ancient forest, there would be no point in searching for her. So they detoured to the Eastern Region, intending to start their search from there."

“But I don’t think it’s going to work.” Quarlock shook his massive head. “They’ve been here for over three months, going out and back five times, and haven’t found a single clue.” “There’s another theory: Count Duna’s daughter secretly went to the Mage Guild’s autonomous territory!” “I imagine, with your prestige and power, you must have come from there, right? I’ve heard it’s a holy land for all mages.” “It’s a triangular territory, bordering the Elven Empire, the Cartier Province, and the Bloodstained Highlands!”

The bard followed the gaze and saw four burly men with thick beards sitting around the largest round table in the tavern. Their exposed muscles bulged like thick tree roots, intimidating to behold. "No," the bard said, turning his gaze away and gently swirling his wine glass. "I come from Slave Bay, Mr. Demon Frog."

“Oh?” Quarlock was somewhat surprised. “This is my first time dealing with people from Slaver’s Bay. Congratulations on our first meeting, Your Excellency.”

"Cheers!" The bard downed his drink in one gulp.

“Speaking of which, I really want to visit Slaver’s Bay.” Quarlock suddenly sighed, a hint of melancholy on his face. “Unfortunately, this is a tavern that has been run by my family for six generations. I have to look after the shop and can’t leave.”

After saying that, he raised an eyebrow again. "Look over there, there are a few sneaky guys. Don't mess with them. They're from the Shadow Brotherhood, capturing elves here to sell." "You know the Shadow Brotherhood, right? That's an organization under the Death Hand Order. They're all ruthless." Quarlock's voice carried a hint of fear and disgust.

The bard looked to his left and sure enough, he saw three skinny, stick insect-like creatures. They were wearing hooded, saffron-colored cloaks and were greedily drinking the Angel's Tears from the table, whispering amongst themselves from time to time.

"No wonder your tavern dares to call itself the Continental Inn," the bard remarked, seemingly with a sense of self-reflection. "It truly lives up to its name."

"Ha!" Quarlock smiled, a hint of smugness in his eyes. "Great minds think alike. Come, sir, this cup is a toast to our regret for not meeting sooner."

It must be said that although Quarok was merely an orc, he possessed extraordinary eloquence and emotional intelligence. Before the bard even realized it, he had drunk seven or eight cups of Angel's Tears during their conversation, consuming over 20 silver coins. If the conversation continued like this, he probably wouldn't even be able to save a single gold coin.

The clatter of high heels on the wooden stairs was captivating and alluring. A graceful figure shrouded in a black robe descended the stairs. However, the prominent bulges on either side of the hood still drew attention to the pointed ears.

Elf!

The next moment, the three Shadow Brotherhood members who were drinking immediately stood up, their eyes fixed on the black-robed elf.

Clearly, the reason the three of them were blocking this place was because of this elf!

"Hey! You three annoying bastards! This is the Continental Inn, not a place for you three to run wild!" Quarlock hurriedly shouted, "If you fight here, the Continental Inn will not welcome you!"

"Since that's the case, then I think we don't need to give you, orc, any more face." The leader took off his hood, revealing a face with sunken cheeks that resembled a skeleton. "Today, we'll only capture this elf. The rest of you, don't interfere. Otherwise... hehehe... offend the Shadow Brotherhood, and you'll have to think about the consequences!"

After they finished speaking, the three of them emitted a burst of battle aura, revealing themselves to be three fourth-tier transcendent beings!

"Hehe, I've changed my mind. I'll kill them all! And take all the Angel's Tears!"

The leader roared, and a glowing gem suddenly appeared in his hand. It was actually a high-grade magic rune stone! With a violent slam, it exploded with a bang. Then, countless wisps of cold, gray mist rose up, accompanied by pungent, poisonous vapors!
"Hold your breath!" "Watch out!" "This gray fog is poisonous!" "Damn it!" "That damn bastard..."

In an instant, chaos erupted throughout the tavern. Cries of agony, curses, and the muffled thuds of blades piercing flesh filled the air. No one could have imagined that these three men's true purpose wasn't merely to kidnap elves, but to plunder the entire tavern and slaughter everyone inside!

Those who had initially intended to remain neutral were now filled with shock and anger. But before they could even stand up, a sudden chill ran down their necks. Reaching out to touch them, they found warm, slippery, and foul-smelling blood gushing out. The next second, their necks and heads split open, and blood gushed out like a fountain!
"Run! Run!" Finally, someone realized what was happening. In this territory-like arena, the three fourth-tier transcendents of the Shadow Brotherhood were like gods. Almost everyone abandoned all illusions and ran towards the tavern's door. However, after only a few steps, they suddenly felt dizzy, weak all over, and unable to mobilize even a trace of their battle qi.

"what--"

With a loud bang, the elf, shrouded in black robes, was sent flying by one of them, letting out a painful howl and coughing up blood as he flew backward. If he hadn't been spared the fate of being sold, that single blow would have been enough to kill him!

"The cycle of good and evil!"

From the pitch-black fog, a hoarse roar echoed, followed by a flying wheel weapon that suddenly shone brightly and split into two pieces, one gold and one black, which clashed and killed the four mercenaries!

The four mercenaries were tall and burly, all third-tier transcendents, their resistance far surpassing that of others. They were currently radiating battle aura, covering their noses with their hands as they ran towards the door. Hearing the commotion, they were forced to turn around to face the opponent's combat techniques. But before they could even make a move, one of them had his chest cleaved open, a golden flying wheel flying out from behind him and returning to the undead transcendent's hand. The other mercenary fared even worse; his head was cleanly severed by the black flying wheel, his headless corpse swaying wildly in place, seemingly completely unprepared for his death, unwilling to fall. Two formidable third-tier transcendents, their lives thus effortlessly taken by a fourth-tier undead transcendent!

"Your turn, little girl." At the same time, a voice that seemed to come from the depths of the demonic abyss, still echoing, rang out, "That elf is for sale and cannot be harmed, so I'll use you as a pool for my lust." The demonic voice was ethereal and elusive; one could only hear it, but not see the person.

The Black Scorpion, who had been sitting in the corner, suddenly stood up. She wore a mask, obscuring her expression. She stood there with a commanding presence, but the next moment, without any apparent movement of her hands, the table in front of her was cleaved in two with a resounding crash, as if struck by a greatsword. The two halves flew out and exploded into countless fragments in mid-air. "Tail!" "Needle!!!!!!!!!!" The Black Scorpion finally spoke, her voice slightly hoarse and androgynous, completely at odds with her sexy figure. With her shout, her long legs, clad in a black leather jacket that resembled yoga pants, kicked backward with tremendous force. Her braided hair shot out like a projectile from the direction she had bent over, growing longer and faster with incredible speed.

Snapped!
A supernatural being emerged from the thick, cold gray fog, grabbing a braided pigtail. "Oh ho? So this isn't your hair, but your disguise?" Before he could finish speaking, the end of the pigtail suddenly opened like a snake's mouth, and a thin, poisonous needle the length of a middle finger shot out from it! The supernatural being jerked his head to the side, and with a soft "plop," the needle pierced his shoulder.

"Damn bitch! You're utterly wicked!" The undead superhuman was clearly enraged. Without a word, he formed his five fingers into claws and ripped a large chunk of poisoned flesh from his shoulder! He then lunged forward, his palm emitting a ghastly white light, and roared, "Blood Devourer!" With his roar, the large chunk of flesh he had just ripped from his shoulder began to twist and swirl as if alive. It quickly transformed into a sharp drill made of flesh and blood, which he hurled at the black scorpion.

At such close range, the black scorpion naturally couldn't dodge. With a soft "plop," the flesh drill pierced through her thigh, causing her to hiss involuntarily. Just as she was about to continue fighting, the fighting spirit within her body vanished instantly, turning her into an ordinary person.

"It was my carelessness; it turns out she's a fourth-tier woman." The undead transcendent approached Black Scorpion and slapped off the enchanted mask from Black Scorpion's face.

……

(End of this chapter)