Chapter 139: Make a Choice (Vote for the Moon Ticket!)
Sure enough, after Raven Watson sent Farrow flying with a Hurricane Impact, he didn’t even spare a glance at William Merlin standing by the carriage. He simply strode straight into the Gilded Rose.
By this point, Farrow had already found a chair and sat down. Although he’d taken a recovery potion, the effects of that Hurricane Impact hadn’t faded. Even now, his chest felt tight, and he sat there struggling to catch his breath.
Raven Watson stood before Farrow, looking down at the young alchemist with a lofty, condescending gaze. "I hear you’ve got a batch of Nether Iron Ore in your hands?"
"W-What Nether Iron Ore?" Farrow naturally refused to admit anything.
But it wasn’t just because of that Hurricane Impact…
With Farrow’s mercenary nature, if it were a big deal coming to his door, never mind a Hurricane Impact—even if he’d been slapped a few times, he’d still smile and offer the other cheek, reminding his assailant not to forget the tip afterward.
The problem was, Farrow had no idea what the other party wanted…
At the very least, it didn’t look like he was here for business—who starts a deal by beating up the seller, anyway?
Now that Boss Merlin wasn’t at the Gilded Rose, and Boss Parvi had gone to Blade Canyon, the only ones left to make decisions at the Gilded Rose were himself and William Merlin.
William Merlin was unreliable anyway, so Farrow figured he’d better be careful.
No sooner had Farrow finished speaking than Raven Watson’s gaze turned icy. With a lift of his staff, a tremendous force crashed down on Farrow—the same Hurricane Strike, striking the same spot on his chest. There was a dull thud, and Farrow, chair and all, slammed into the wall.
The wooden chair shattered instantly, splinters scattering across the floor. Farrow himself felt as if a giant beast had stomped on his chest, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
“You’ve only got one chance left.” Raven Watson stepped through the wrecked hall, slowly approaching Farrow. The gem at the tip of his staff flashed, and an invisible force seized Farrow, suspending him in midair. No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t break free from that terrifying grip.
“I’ll ask you one more time. Do you have a batch of Nether Iron Ore?”
I... I don’t understand what you’re talking about.
Looks like you don’t appreciate this chance...” Raven Watson’s eyes flashed with menace. As the gem atop his staff gleamed, a ball of fire shot straight at Farrow’s face.
It was a Tier-3 spell, Flame Mark. In his current state, Farrow could only watch helplessly as the fireball grew larger in his vision, until—boom—it exploded.
Farrow had already closed his eyes in despair, but after a moment, he realized he wasn’t hurt at all. He opened his eyes in confusion and saw William Merlin, pale-faced, gripping his staff tightly as he summoned an Arcane Shield.
And the target of that Arcane Shield’s protection was none other than himself.