Chapter 233 — Amber's Old Friends
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 3
The instant Amber snapped her fingers, Scarface Anton had already reflexively flung out a hand and seized a nearby wooden post. Others in the tavern did the same—grabbing whatever fixed object was closest, or else abandoning all dignity and plopping straight down onto the floor. Their movements were so smooth and practiced that the reaction might as well have been instinct. The rest, however, were not so fortunate. They merely stared about in bewilderment at the inexplicable change around them, unsure what to do—and very soon, they would not need to do anything at all.
A murky, hazy shadow abruptly bloomed around Amber, and everywhere it spread, everyone instantly felt the world spin. Within mere moments, every soul in the tavern was dragged bodily through a "shadow jump." Though it lasted less than a second, it robbed everyone of their balance in an instant. Those who had found something to hold onto fared somewhat better; those who had stood or sat there dumbly were already sprawled in a heap, and it was a long while before they could scramble up.
Surveying the spectacular scene before her, Amber nodded in satisfaction, having at last recovered a bit of her pride as a "master."
Her combat prowess was indeed pathetic—but that depended on whom one compared her to, and in what field. As a shadow stalker, it was understandable that Amber could not beat Gao Yang or the people around him in a straight fight. But how many true extraordinary-class professionals could there be in this tavern?
If there were any, they wouldn't be scraping by in a place like this!
Here there was nothing but idle scoundrels and swindlers, whose greatest skills amounted to a few parlor tricks or a con or two. Even the renowned "Scarface Anton" was merely a half-baked stalker—not even quite up to the standard of a low-class professional. They were gutter rats, the dregs at the very bottom of society, huddling together here for warmth, and the strongest among them was not fit to appear in the sight of true professionals.
Amber, at least, was an extraordinary-class professional—and a master of shadow power at that, one who even styled herself the Chosen of the Night.
The title "Queen of the Tavern" was not one she had bestowed upon herself.
Only after a long while did the severe dizziness and neural disorientation caused by shadow power's assault on the mind gradually abate. One by one, those sprawled on the floor clambered up in sorry fashion—yet not a single hothead dared to step forward and make trouble. Anyone who could survive in this social environment was a cautious and clever sort, skilled at sizing up a situation in an instant and finding the safest way to protect themselves. In that single moment just past, they had all understood exactly how to protect themselves.
Seeing this, Amber curled her lip slightly. "This crop's still no fun at all."
"Boss, what brings you back?" Scarface Anton, forcing down the lingering dizziness in his head, squeezed out a smile and sidled up. "A couple years back you said you'd found a lead on your birth parents and just up and vanished... Did you find them?"
"Nope. My real parents are probably dead in some ditch somewhere—doubt I'll ever find them in this life," Amber said with a wave of her hand. "But I did find something a lot more interesting."
"More interesting?" Anton blinked. He knew this one—who had once ruled the sewers and commanded the back alleys—was always off chasing "interesting things," but that usually meant treasure worth stealing and unlucky fools worth swindling. Whenever she mentioned such things, her face always wore a mocking, derisive look. Yet now her expression was plainly full of relish, with no trace of jest. "What did you find?"
Amber only smiled. "Heard about the founding duke coming back to life?"