Rosie's Games

Chapter 337: The Fire's Temper

"The arrival of the Blessed Families did not stop the beasts or scare them away. They only helped decrease the number of wounded people, but it did not change the tide," Mr. Pratt immediately gave Rosalind a report about the current tide the moment she arrived in the latter's study.

After her conversation with Lucas, he told her that she could leave ahead of him. Since Lucas was planning to arrive the very next day, Rosalind and the rest chose to leave that very night.

They wanted proper rest before using their abilities.

"So there are fewer wounded?" Relief washed over her. This was her plan, so she wanted to help the wounded as much as she could.

"And dead. That is something we are very thankful for."

She nodded.

"Mathies has been handling everything. You should just rest. I have prepared a small villa for you and everyone else."

"Thank you," Rosalind said.

"Oh. Federico had been asking about you. So you should lay low. He must have already connected the dots. He had been asking about the person who could heal the plague. What you did the other time was not exactly the best move. Now, he has been doing his best to locate you and has been paying people to spy on us."

"Does that frighten you?" Rosalind asked. She was now wearing another skin mask to hide her appearance so she was a bit confident that they would not notice her.

"Of course not. However, I cannot imagine the hassle of changing your appearance just to avoid them."

"I can handle that," Rosalind smiled.

After their short exchange of greetings, Rosalind and the rest went to a villa in the black market. This one was located near the mercenary guild the place where most mercenaries stay.

This was intentional as Rosalind wanted everyone to think that they were just simple mercenaries who wanted to join the fight.

First, she needed to register their group. They only consist of four people so it is easier for them to register.

"What's the name of the group?" the woman behind the desk asked as she eyed Rosalind. Currently, Rosalind looked like an ordinary citizen without any unremarkable features. Just like her, Atior and the rest wore some masks to hide their appearance too.

However, there is just a little bit of a problem.

Atior's bloodlust.

Any warrior could easily sense danger around him.

Although they would not be able to sense that she was a sorceress, they would think that she was a very dangerous person. The ones who already had experience on the battlefield would immediately think that Atior was someone who had killed hundreds of people and would avoid her.

While this can be advantageous, there was also a bit of a disadvantage.

Now, everyone was wary of them and watched them the moment they walked inside the hall full of mercenaries who wanted to register, suspecting that they had already killed someone a few short minutes ago.

"Pickled Pikemen," Rosalind said with a serious expression on her face. Pickled Pikemen was not exactly the best name out there. In fact, it can be considered funny, but she wanted it that way.

Moreover, she was too tired and lazy to even think about another name that would make them sound intimidating.

"Pickled Pikemen?" the woman lifted an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? You cannot change your name after this."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Good. Ten gold for registration. Ten gold for insurance. If you die while doing one of the missions, we will give back the ten gold to your family members. Fill up this form. Give it to me once you are done."

Atior accepted it. Almost immediately, the woman paled at the sight of the innocent-looking Atior.

Just like Rosalind, Atior had also changed her appearance. She now had an ordinary-looking skin mask that looked like she had been under the sun for too long. Just like Rosalind, Atior's mask also had scars- battle scars.

Despite this, she could not hide her aura.

"You should not come with us next time," Elias said. "You smell too bad. Maybe consider bathing yourself a thousand times before going out."

"You"

"Enough Elias," Valentin said. "We already talked about this earlier."

"Right. I apologize for my mistake. I will not do it again," Elias said without hiding the sarcasm in his voice. In response, Atior just shook her head and started writing their names. Obviously, they also had to use another name to hide their identities.

They found a table that would be enough for the four of them so it would be easier for them to write their new information.

"Oi"

Rosalind frowned when she thought she heard someone. She could feel a lot of people looking at them and she assumed that it was because of Atior.

She already knew that taking Atior here would be risky, but she did not want to make anyone suspect them.

"Oi did you hear me!"

This time, Rosalind was certain that the man who was calling from behind her was talking to them. She could feel the man approach her.

"Oi!"

*BAM!*

A man's hand landed in the middle of the table, surprising everyone.

"Are you deaf?"

The four of them looked up and saw a man who was double the size of Elias. He He had a round belly that swayed every time he moved his fat and meaty arms. His face was huge too huge. It was also red and sweaty.

"I have been calling you! How dare you ignore me!"

"Do you need something?" Elias immediately got up. Despite this, he still sounded calm, which Rosalind was very thankful for. She knew that Elias could barely hold his temper and he would immediately ask for a fight. She could only hope that he would listen to her warnings about fighting right now.

They cannot afford to attract other people's attention.

"Elias" Valentin immediately held Elias's shoulder and patted it. "Calm down."

"I was asking him if he needs something," Elias continued. "Can't you see that we were busy writing our names? How dare you try to disturb us? Do you want to cause chaos inside this hall? Do you want to fight!?"

Hearing this, Rosalind wanted to slap her own forehead.

How could she change someone like Elias? Fire runs in his blood literally. Someone like him would find it very hard to control his temper.

....

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