This Holy Knight is So Despicable!
Chapter 126 - 118 Tavern Literati Brawl (Extra 2/3)

Chapter 126: Chapter 118 Tavern Literati Brawl (Extra 2/3)

In the midst of Archbishop Delman’s hopeless wailing, Lette turned and descended to the second floor.

Other members of the Red Robed Holy Hall heard the archbishop’s screams and rushed up nervously to check, only to run into Lette.

"Your Highness! What happened to the archbishop?"

"Nothing much, the Pope has been unwell these past two days, and Lady Goddess invited him for a chat to arrange matters concerning the Holy Presence.

I noticed his enthusiasm for work was quite high, so I conveniently added him an extra shift!"

The Red Robed People looked at one another and then cautiously asked.

"But why was Archbishop Delman’s voice tinged with a bit of sobbing just now?"

"Tears of joy."

"... Your Highness, are you sure everything’s okay?"

Lette spread his hands: "What could be the problem? More time for him to listen to Lady Goddess’s teachings is a good thing.

In the past, how many archbishops have had the chance to converse directly with the Goddess?

Lette’s words left behind some profoundly moving sentiments, but soon he slipped away from the now-bustling Red Robed Holy Hall and headed toward the commercial street.

But as he neared his destination, he suddenly heard intense arguing coming from the dining area of the commercial street.

He hurried over, and his face fell upon the scene.

In front of a tavern, a representative from the Dwarf Clan, Greybeard Bart, was facing off with a representative from the Barbarian Tribe, Mangu.

The tension between them was palpable, and it seemed like a fight could break out at any moment.

The surrounding tourists and believers had not yet realized the severity of the situation, encircling the two in layers.

Though dwarves are slightly shorter than average humans, their muscular strength and combat prowess are formidable. In a battle of equals, they can easily overpower three human warriors.

As for barbarians, even before going berserk, they’re natural warriors and top predators of the ice plains.

In their hunting, taking down prey like the Ice Plain Demon Wolf of similar size is forbidden with weapons; they must kill them in hand-to-hand combat.

Weapons are only allowed for larger prey like Long-haired Elephants and Sawtooth Ice Lions.

If the barbarians enter a berserk mode, they truly become war machines.

If those two were to fight here, who knows if they’d survive, but the onlookers probably wouldn’t have any whole bodies left.

Buzz!

Lette said nothing, simply extending his aura to envelop the two.

Greybeard Bart from the Dwarf Clan shuddered the moment he sensed it. He turned to see Lette and sheepishly released his clenched fist.

Mangu from the Barbarian Tribe, upon seeing Lette, did not just feel joy but also had a strong sense of fighting spirit.

"Lette Ange!"

"Mangu!"

Lette walked up, giving Mangu a big hug. The two then pounded each other’s chests three times, the highest barbarian form of greeting, equivalent to entrusting one’s life to the other.

"Lord Lette! You arrived just in time! You must help me settle this matter!"

Greybeard Bart puffed out his beard and stared: "This kid, he wants to beat me up!"

Lette patted Mangu on the shoulder: "Mangu is the chieftain’s son of the Barbarian Tribe. With his strength, if he wanted to beat you up, you’d be beaten by now."

Mangu pointed at Greybeard: "Lette Ange! This guy wanted to steal my Beast Milk Wine! I caught him, and he still won’t admit it!"

"Is that so?"

Greybeard’s old face immediately turned red: "I didn’t want to steal it! I wanted to trade my wine for his!

This wine of mine is a treasure praised by the King of the Dwarf Country!"

"I don’t want to trade, your dwarven wine tastes awful! It has a, weird flavor!"

"What weird flavor! That’s called sulfur! We add sulfur to our wine for that fiery taste!

But you barbarians, adding milk to your wine?

Huh! Delicate wine!"

"What did you say?!"

"What if I did?!"

The two looked ready to start fighting again, only to be held down by Lette.

"Looks like you two can’t resolve this without a fight?"

Greybeard Bart stiffened his neck: "Mr. Wright, this matter is between us. Whatever the outcome, it has nothing to do with the Church Court!"

"Lette Ange! Stay out of this, I must settle this score with him! I’ll tell my dad, no matter what happens, it’s our problem!"

Lette sighed: "I have a proposal, let’s settle this with a drinking contest instead of fighting.

A few steps away is a tavern I own, which holds plenty of wine.

You both come with me and compete in a drinking contest.

Bart, you drink the Beast Milk Wine, and Mangu, you drink the Dwarven specialty Flame Dragon Wine until one of you collapses.

The loser must bow to the standing one when they meet again in future.

How does that sound?"

"Hahaha, compete with us dwarves on drinking? I’ll drink this kid under the table!"

"Let’s drink! I’m not afraid of you!"

Thus, the two reluctantly let Lette drag them into a tavern.

With Lette’s order, bartenders and the owner began moving wine from the cellar.

A dwarf and a barbarian started their drinking spree.

The onlookers’ enthusiasm went from high at first, to waning, and finally disinterest.

The two drank from morning till afternoon, with Flame Dragon Wine and Beast Milk Wine being quite rare, and after finishing most of it, Lette switched them to regular white wine and beer.

These two opened their bellies, drinking until they turned the world upside down.

As they drank, they gradually reconciled.

"Hic! Mangu... brother! Your Beast Milk Wine is good! Hmm! Soft on the palate going down, but who knew the kick was so strong afterward!"

"That’s right! Our Beast Milk Wine... has lots of... herbs mixed in! Has quite the kick!

But your Flame Dragon Wine!

Though it has a strange flavor at first, it’s quite addicting after you get used to it!"

"Isn’t it! The sulfur flavor is unique~ intoxicating! Especially when burping!

The spicy wine aroma comes up from the stomach and out! Doesn’t it feel like the breath of a Flame Dragon?"

"Yes! Indeed! Hahaha, no wonder it’s called Flame Dragon Wine! So... that’s what it is."

Mangu smacked his lips with a half bottle of wine: "Most importantly, drinking Flame Dragon Wine keeps the body warm.

Even warmer and hotter than regular Beast Milk Wine!

We! Really need it!"

"My brother has spoken! I must gift you some barrels! Later... come with me to our place and pick them up! Just mention Greybeard’s name, it’ll work!"

Lette sat next to them, shaking his head while sipping beer: "Once the trade route opens, trade between barbarians and dwarves will be immensely easy.

Mangu, you can travel to the Molten Heart Kingdom of the dwarf clan, and Bart, you can search for precious ore veins on the ice plains.

This world ought to be a better place, right?"

"Lette Ange is right! My dad said so! Told me to learn as much from Lette Ange!"

Greybeard swayed his head: "I was about to ask, what does ’Ange’ mean?"

"It’s the highest praise an outsider can receive in the Barbarian Tribe! If there’s internal strife among barbarians, the clan leader’s words aren’t as effective as Ange’s words!"

Lette smiled and patted Mangu on the shoulder: "I remember you’re nearing the age for travels, right?"

"Next year! After the spring hunt trial, I’ll be able to go out!"

"I’ll definitely be there for your trial."

"Really? Lette Ange!"

Mangu stood up in excitement, but as he got up, the alcohol rush; it kicked in immediately. The lad wobbled and eventually plopped back on the bench.

"Haha! He’s done for, I win!"

Lette looked at Greybeard, bemused: "He’s only fifteen, how much older are you to boast about this?"

The dwarf stared at the muscular Mangu who resembled a human beast: "He’s only fifteen?"

"Barbarian."

"Alright, alright... let’s call this a draw! But let’s not let this get out, or people will say I’m bullying kids."

"Stop it, you two drank the same time, but not the same amount.

You think you can bully my honest little brother? I’m not drunk, need me to tally it for you?"

Exposed, Greybeard’s old face flushed with embarrassment: "No, no... my bad. How about I send over two barrels of wine tomorrow?"

"That’s your business. But since you’re here, there’s something I need to discuss with you."

Lette casually tore the space and followed the anchor points to find his estate’s warehouse, retrieving a large burlap sack and tossing it at Greybeard’s feet.

Greybeard immediately furrowed his brow, looked into the sack, and was stunned.

"This is..."

"It’s the remnants of the Light Hunting Armor."

"How did this..."

"Don’t be angry, let me explain..."

Lette quickly explained Vanessa’s situation to Greybeard, who sobered up considerably by the end.

"So, that’s that. I’ve managed to minimize the impact, but if you continue with this...

It’s hard to say whether you’ll be marked as a dangerous force or even categorized with the Dark Race by the Church Court.

Then it won’t be about whether you’re involved in the Holy Trade Route.

Understanding the Church Court’s ways and the Judgement Court’s style, I think you’re more aware than I am.

I’m telling you this privately; you understand, right?"

Greybeard wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and nodded repeatedly: "I understand, I understand... I’ll inform His Majesty the King.

It’s just... such a pity for something so fine."

"Achievements of predecessors are for later breakthroughs... Interested?"

Greybeard hadn’t quite caught on: "Uh?"

"All these fragments, they’re rare metals, just leaving them would be wasteful."

"So you’re planning... to reforge the Light Hunting Armor?"

Lette wagged his finger: "I don’t like the concept of armor. I hope you can reforge these materials into a shield!

With ores from the Barbarian Tribe, magic patterns from the Elf Clan, the Holy Light Church’s blessings, treasures from the Mermaid Clan...

Whatever you need, I’ll provide.

But I want a Holy Shield strong enough to protect everything."

Greybeard immediately understood: "You’re looking for... the embryo of a Holy Artifact?"

"Exactly."