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The tavern keeper shouted, reflexively stepping forward.

The heroes fixed him with a cold stare and he immediately stepped back.

This place looked even more luxurious than the City Lord’s manor in Pruell City, which intensified the awe in the tavern keeper’s heart.

Even a fool could tell that Fang Hao was not the ordinary rich second generation they had imagined.

Fang Hao sat on the bone throne, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

He had invited the tavern’s proprietress to assist him, but she had refused each time.

Entrusting the tavern keeper to seek help now seemed out of character for her.

“What happened? Talk me through it in detail.” Fang Hao asked.

He was quite familiar with the proprietress who had previously provided him with a lot of intelligence.

While Fang Hao would help wherever possible, what he would help with depended on the circumstances.

“This is the situation. Bernard came to the pub with his men this morning and took the boss away, accusing her of theft. We waited until dusk and the boss sent a message via a courier, mentioning the cultists and asked us to find you.” The tavern keeper took out a crumpled piece of paper from his clothes as he spoke.

The maid took the note and handed it over.

The writing on it was tiny, comprising of just two simple sentences.

‘We are under the control of the cultists, go find Fang Hao.¹

Cultists?

Upon mention of cultists, Fang Hao thought of the pale-skinned man with the massive hood.

“Who is Bernard? Are you guys stealing stuff?” Fang Hao asked again.

He found Bernard’s name familiar, but couldn’t remember at the moment.

“Bernard is the son of the former Minister of Domestic Affairs. Our pub cherishes its reputation and we would never steal. It’s clearly a pretext Bernard is using.” The tavern keeper said furiously.

Upon hearing that Bernard was the son of the Minister of Domestic Affairs, Fang Hao realized who he was.

The pimpled man, Anjia had beaten up before who was locked up by City Lord Cyril was now presumably released.

Now that Bernard has captured the proprietress; it could be because she had provided Fang Hao with a lot of information and he was venting his anger on her.

“What about the cultists? Why are they being mentioned?” Fang Hao continued.

The term ‘cultists’ was a nickname the proprietress coined for the pale-skinned people, because wearing a hood in broad day light made them look like cultists.

“In recent days, many hooded people have appeared in the city. When Bernard arrested her, there were a few of them present. The proprietress named them cultists.” The tavern keeper continued.

Fang Hao didn’t speak, but he made his conclusion.

It seemed that Cyril has chosen the wrong path.

The Blood Clan obviously had some form of collaboration with Pruell City, openly appearing before the residents, having been clearly recognized by City Lord Cyril.

The Blood Clan had been targeting Fang Hao. Even if this didn’t involve the tavern, he would have investigated upon hearing the news.

He needed to see what the Blood Clan and Cyril were up to.

“What do you hope I would do to rescue her?” Fang Hao asked.

“Ah? I, I don’t know.” The tavern keeper shook his head in bewilderment.

“So where have they kept your boss?”

“They didn’t keep her in the city. After the city gates closed at dusk, they escorted her away, headed southeast.”

“They took her away?”

“Yes, I followed them for a while before I came here.” The tavern keeper continued.

It took an hour to reach the fortress from Pruell City.

And another significant amount of time to get here from the fortress.

If the delay continued, they might go somewhere where they could not be found.

“Go call the Blood Hunter.” Fang Hao instructed a maid.

“Yes, master,” the maid ran off.

“Do you have guts?” Fang Hao looked at the tavern keeper again.

Thinking that he was going to be asked to do something dangerous, he hurriedly shook his head. “No, not much.”

“Then put on the sack.”

“Oh.” The tavern keeper, not quite understanding, put the sack over his head anyway.

Before long, the skeletal hero Blood Hunter walked in.

With his large bat wings folded, he strode forward and said, “My lord, you were looking for me.”

The innkeeper, bag still over his head, stood helplessly in the middle of the hall as the Blood Hunter walked past him.

Through the loose gap of the bag, he could see a pair of iron boots walk by, and above the boots at the bare ankle was chilling white bone.

His heart shivered, his body trembling violently.

What is going on? How many races has Fang Hao gathered here?

Lizardmen are one thing, but why are there undead too?

Fang Hao looked at the Blood Hunter and said, “Blood Hunter, I need you to investigate a group of people. They departed from Pruell City and headed southeast. I suspect they are heading towards the Blood Clan’s Crescent Heights. Check it out for me.”

“Yes, my lord.” The Blood Hunter didn’t waste words. Upon receiving the order, he turned around and left.

He left the Lord’s Mansion, mounted the Bone Dragon and flew southeast.

After giving instructions, Fang Hao again turned to Lorrey, who was shaking his legs and enjoying the show, and said, “Lorrey, I have a task for you. If you complete it well, I’ll build a house just for you.”

Upon hearing Fang Hao’s words, Loney’s eyes lit up. “Alright.”

Fang Hao opened the Book of Lords map and pointed it out to Lorrey. “This is Pruell City. Go and find out for me what the city lord is up to.”

“Alright!” Lorrey agreed immediately.

The heavy infantry soldier left with the innkeeper and Lorrey, while Fang Hao began to mobilize his forces, waiting for their reports.

Southeast of Pruell City, on a flat open space.

A group of five hundred people huddled together for a short rest.

This group, composed of villagers and lower-class residents, was the first batch of human residents to be relocated from Pruell City.

Cyril had struck a deal with the Blood Clan.

They would gradually move the residents to Crescent Heights to become subjects under the rule of the Blood Clan.

These villagers lived in remote areas or were thieves and criminals arrested under various charges; even if they suddenly disappeared, it would be hard for others to notice.

When night fell and the masked ‘guardians’ removed their hoods to reveal crimson eyes, the people realized something was wrong, but it was all too late.

But now they could do nothing but hope for a miracle.

On the side, two men were sitting.

The older, middle-aged man was thin, his eyes emitting the same red light as the Blood Clan, while the younger man looked no different from a human, his brows revealing a hint of ruthlessness, occasionally scratching a pimple on his face irritably.

These were the former minister of internal affairs of Pruell City and his son, Bernard.

“Father, I also want to become a Blood Clan member, then I can have power,” Bernard said.

He was somewhat envious that his father had become a Blood Clan member.

The minister, his gaunt face rather serious, replied, “The business in Pruell City still needs you. Wait until you’re old, around my age, then you can become a member of the Blood Clan.”

According to City Lord Cyril, once transformed into a Blood Clan member, they couldn’t appear in the city.

After considering his father’s words, Bernard decided he was right and didn’t push the topic.

“That brat Fang Hao closed shop today. Otherwise, I would capture all his bunny girls and torment them.” Bernard was fuming, slapping his thigh in anger.

“Don’t rush. Even Cyril is wary of Fang Hao’s strength. Our priority is handle the Blood Clan’s affairs well. A chance will come to deal with that brat.” The former minister spoke calmly, his eyes still focused on the front.

“You’re right, father.” Bernard agreed before cursing again, “It must have been that bitch from the bar who told Fang Hao something. That’s why he took his people and left. Damn, I’m going to teach that bitch a lesson.”

After he finished speaking, Bernard stood up and headed towards the group in the back.

The former minister didn’t try to stop him.

The lives of these people who were being taken away weren’t significant anymore.

They were to be gifts for the Blood Clan, their lives and deaths already decided.

Bernard found a resting woman in the crowd. He kicked her down and started tearing off her clothes amid her screams.

Slap!

Bernard slapped the woman across the face and growled, “Shut up, you bitch! Scream one more time, and I’ll kill you.”

The woman stopped struggling, wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, and said, “Not here, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Hahaha, alright!”

Victorious laughter ringing out, Bernard dragged the woman towards a nearby bush.