Harusa is a huge city inhabited by tens of thousands of people, and the towering walls surround the houses neatly arranged like fish scales, keeping the citizens at bay from robbers and wild beasts, and allowing the southwesterly wind to bend in front of the stone walls.

Perhaps because there are so many merchants in the city, the air here is perpetually filled with the smell of sweaty metal, the smell of coins when they sweat in the palms of their hands. As many merchants as Tickle brought goods and money to the city, but they also brought with them sickness and herds of cart-pulling livestock. These sturdy cows and horses added to the long-standing smell of stinking dung in the city, even though the city consuls added manpower and steel coins to dispose of the dung several times.

The tavern is located near a horse trading market, so the wind here often smells of musty horse manure. And it is precisely because of this that Longinus chose this spacious and inexpensive residence.

When the night was over, Estelle's long tentacles came in through the narrow window, Riga, who had been pierced in both eyes, moved. With a muttering curse coming out of his mouth, the hunter threw his right hand to his face and rubbed his beard. The ale had already stuck to the beard together, so the Quaid, who felt extremely uncomfortable, quickly shook and struggled.

The wide tavern was littered with sleeping and drunken Quaids, empty barrels and oak cups tossed everywhere. Even the tavernkeeper lay crooked on the floor and slept soundly, his mouth open and closed with a low snoring sound wrapped in fat lips. The obese merchant who knew that the Dragoninus would pay for the ale also joined in Quaid's revelry, though he soon became drunk from the incessant stream of glasses, and finally fell asleep on the oak floor that smelled of rotten wood with an empty barrel. Even though his brown burlap coat was already soaked with sweat and ale, sticking to his skin like dead aquatic weeds, the tavernkeeper slept soundly with salivation, unable to wake up from the sound of the thudding of the iron soles of his hoplite boots and the floor.

Rega sat up from the bench with a muffled grunt, and it wasn't until he tapped his sore neck that Quaid recognized his direction. Raising his feet, which were as heavy as lead, the hunter staggered through the crowd, and only after kicking the bodies of a dozen or so warriors did he feel the wall and walk out the back door of the tavern.

Cool air with the stench of horse manure immediately hit the Quaid man's face, making him even more dry-mouthed. His eyes flickered to see a large water tank not far away, and the hunter immediately staggered over, his movements looking even more inconvenient than that of the lame.

After a dozen breaths, Riga walked to the water tank, and he eagerly inserted his hands into the cold water, stirred it, and then gulped it down his throat. It wasn't until there was no more burning pain in his throat that Quaid did his best to splash water on his face to drive away the dizziness caused by drunkenness. However, stimulated by cold water, the hunter did not immediately regain consciousness. His stomach squirmed violently in the cold water, and finally all the remaining liquor in his stomach poured up. Before the Quaid could remove their heads, a stream of semi-fermented liquor with a strong sour smell erupted from their mouths and spilled onto the stone floor where grass grew in the crevices.

The vomiting finally made Rega feel better, so he washed the dirt off the corners of his mouth and the floor with clean water, and did not stop until the tavern maid came over to fetch water. The maid was tall and wore a long, ankle-length, tight-fitting skirt characteristic of the Terrans. The skirt had long and narrow sleeves, a wide collar with white trim, and a little old, but the maid still wore a loose burqa over it. The sleeves of the burqa were shorter than those of the long skirt, but the undyed pale jute made the maid look more feminine.

Riga stared at the maid in a daze, but this frightened the young woman from moving forward, and her heart throbbed like a running deer. She had seen the barbarians who had arrived early, they were as tall and strong as the warrior in front of them, and their eyes were so undisguised that even the maids could feel the heat in their eyes.

As a maid in a tavern, the young woman had long known about the rudeness and debauchery of these mercenaries, but she didn't use her body to earn money like the others, she just worked hard here to make a living. The tavernkeeper and the other maids knew about her, so they did their best to take care of the poor and innocent maiden, and to find the last little warmth left in the world in this sinful and just age.

Perhaps sensing the maid's fear, Riga let go of her hands and took two steps back. "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you. Speaking in a non-standard lingua franca, the hunter tried to show his harmlessness.

The maid silently took two steps forward, and after making sure that Riga had not moved, she quickly walked to the water tank, drew half a jar of water, and turned around. The young woman looked down and walked back, as if terrified of seeing the Quaid again, but the hunter took the opportunity to notice her hips writhing rapidly as she hurried.

"Stunner. The Quid muttered under his breath, then withdrew his eyes from the maid's ass. He was slippery and damp all over his body, so much so that Riga wanted to take a shower.

The Molton hoplite boots were kicked off his feet, and the hunter threw the stinky boots away before taking off his deerskin coat and trousers, and only when there was only a crotch cloth around him did Quaid stop and pour water on his body with a wooden barrel.

When Riga reappeared in the stable in front of the tavern, the Dragoninus had armed him to the teeth. After all, they had even a legion of Mars infantry rationed with sturdy chain mail and sharp swords, and ordering some more for the Quaids would be just an extra bill.

The more than 200 Quaid mercenaries who arrived were given armor, weapons, and all sorts of necessary things. The Cheers' sleek full-body chain mail smelled of freshly greased, and the bespoke leather jacket was stitched with burlap at key points. The calfskin boots promised by the centurion were transformed into heavy infantry boots made of hard leather with iron soles, but the Dragoninus prepared sleeveless coats embroidered with silver dragon-shaped silk threads on their chests. The centurion swore that they already had the name of the Dragoninus Ice Dragon Mercenary Regiment, and that the Ice Dragons represented the Quaid from the Northern Highlands.

The Dragoninus also made them wide, sturdy, flat-topped helmets, but Riga didn't like the heavy, stuffy tin jars with a cramped interior. In the eyes of the Quaids, an iron hood that covers the head on the chain mail was sufficient.

Santan, who was drunk and not in the Frostbear tribe, had arrived two days earlier than Riga because he had drunk and not been in the Frost Bear tribe, so the bigger, more reckless man woke up and insisted on taking the hunter to Harusa.

"Swear by Shirag's name. Santan, also dressed in brand new armor, shouted. "You've never seen a bazaar here, it's like you've entered a maggot heap. Anyone who is not careful will be squashed and torn apart like a worn-out bag. The big man tightened the strap of his sword, and after touching the brand-new sword and dagger, he whispered mysteriously, "I know the Terran Courtyard in the bazaar, and the girls there are young and energetic. Although skinny is a little thinner. ”