The night may have ended for Cheese or Jack. All that awaited them before dawn was to clean up the debris left behind by their opponents, and once the mages knew what they were fighting for, it would be easy to take down the enemy in front of them. But for a soldier who had to leave the battlefield at dusk, the time before the sun rose was still very difficult.

Lothar didn't sleep. The lord sat in the dark room, his eyes closed and his head propped up with one hand, and he was thinking. This was Lothar's habit, and the reason why he had survived countless battles, the people of the kingdom always attributed Lothar's achievements to talent, but in fact, few people understood how important the strange silence of the Black Mountain Count was after the battle.

The battles of the day replayed in slow motion before his eyes, and Lothar did not let go of every image and detail in his memory. Some soldiers always attribute their survival and victory on the battlefield to luck or divine blessing, but Lothar firmly believes that only by constantly examining himself and correcting the mistakes he made in battle can he avoid those flaws that would otherwise be fatal.

Hearn's hand rested against the corner of the table at Lothar's feet, the weapon's edge still glowing chillingly in the darkness. A dagger carved in the shape of a spider was placed on the Count's table, a weapon from a mercenary that was the key to Lothar's victory over the false baron. Speaking of networms, Lothar hadn't seen the mercenary lady since she returned, and she seemed to be still angry about what happened last night.

Shaking his head, he dispelled the thought from his mind. For women, or rather, women, Lothar is still at a level of ignorance. In his eyes, the relationship between him and the networm is just a mercenary and an employer, at most a long-term employment, and the other party should not have any opinion on his decision at all. But thinking of the mercenary's eyes when he looked at him, the lord instinctively felt that he had made a mistake in his thoughts.

"Phew......," the Count of Montenegro let out a sigh. Years in the army had given him a special ability to regain combat ability with a simple rest of two or three hours a day, if necessary. Of course, this kind of overdraft is not without a price, and when the war is over, he may lie in bed for days.

"Knock knock" At this moment, the door of the room that was closed in front of the count suddenly made a slight knock. Lothar opened his eyes, and he looked at his door, knowing full well that the servants of this mansion would not dare to alarm him at this time.

"Who?" said Lothar, but he was sure it was enough for someone outside the door to hear. After all, the private rooms of the Count of Montenegro also inherited his military style, simple and easy to use, in other words, cramped. Lothar's hand was already on the handle of the tomahawk when he said this, and as long as the person behind the door or anything else did not give him a satisfactory answer, the blade of Hearn's hand would be the only treat to greet the guests when the door was opened.

"It's me. Did you disturb your rest?" came the voice of the networm from behind the door. Even Lothar had to admit that if the mercenary didn't deliberately lower her voice, her voice could almost be said to be sweet.

But that didn't make the Count any less suspicious, what was she here for, especially at this point in time. There were a lot of speculations flashing through Lothar's mind, and some of them were a bit obscene, and he couldn't be blamed for this, who let those knights who grew up with the lord never lack such bridges.

"What are you doing here?" asked Lothar, trying to keep her tone as normal as possible. He didn't want the other party to hear the fleeting thought in his voice.

"......" was eerily quiet, and the networm outside the door seemed to have a lot of ideas like the earl. And this silence was enough to make Lothar's newly calmed heart impetuous again.

"Can you open the door first? It's cold in the hallway. "This is a very reasonable request, it is already winter, although it is not yet time for snow in the royal capital, but the cold air from the north does not make the temperature in this mansion uncomfortable. So, in the face of this reasonable request, will Lothar go and open the door?

"Please come in. The door is unlocked. "The Count is not lying, his door is indeed unlocked. As a proud warrior, Lothar didn't need that layer of protection to keep anyone from breaking into her room. Besides, there isn't much privacy in this room.

The door is open. Lothar's eyes were staring directly at the figure that appeared in front of the door. The lights in the hallway weren't bright, which meant he didn't have to spend any more time getting used to the change in light. The figure of the mercenary stood there, only ten paces or so from the Count, and Lothar could see her face despite the light. and the networm's clothing, which made his breath short.

Miss Mercenary was not wearing the leather armor she had always loved, nor was it the long dress that Lothar's servants had prepared for her. It's a suit, uh, too revealing in Lothar's opinion. The name of Montenegro was on the top, and even in the most explicit of it, the Count never imagined that one day a girl would appear in front of him dressed like this. Lothar's breath was rapid, and the heat on his cheeks reminded him that his face must be red at this point.

"You ......" Lothar wanted to ask why he was dressed like this, but after he said a word, he realized that his throat was too nervous to make a sound. In response, the networm reciprocated with an ambiguous smile. The smile made the last trace of struggle in the count's eyes disappear, and he had to admit that after nearly twenty years of celibacy, he could not resist the temptation of this woman.

Miss Mercenary walked towards the Count of Montenegro with graceful steps, her lines looked so charming in the faint light, and her eyes seemed to contain the mystery of the entire starry sky, which attracted Lothar's attention firmly and could not be distracted.

As the networm approached Lothar, the door to the room closed silently, and the deadbolt that had never been used was locked under invisible force. But for this scene, the earl, who could no longer take his eyes off, chose to turn a blind eye. In Lothar's mind, there were only those eyes, so beautiful, so deep, so ......

"Roar!" the lion's roar suddenly appeared in the earl's mind, and a powerful force burrowed into his brain like lightning with the witch-hunting knife that Lothar's fingertips touched.