My Magic Has No Upper Limit

Blood Fang Town.

The night descended, heavy and greasy.

The entire town was shrouded in ambiguous shadows.

There was no so-called curfew; when the sun set, Blood Fang Town truly came to life.

Compared to the orderly Black Stone Town, this place was clearly much more chaotic.

The streets were narrow and muddy, and the gutters on both sides flowed with foul, sour-smelling water.

The air was a mix of cheap tobacco, rust, and the faint smell of blood.

"Get lost! I saw this first!"

CLANG!

The sharp clash of blades and a piercing scream came from a dark alley on the corner, but passersby didn’t even bat an eye.

A few drunken Beastman mercenaries, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, roughly shoved a street vendor out of their way.

Women in heavy makeup with vacant eyes leaned against wooden railings, waving cheap handkerchiefs at every man who passed.

In the largest tavern in the center of town—Tusk Tavern—it was currently the liveliest time of the night.

The place was a cacophony of voices, rolling with waves of heat.

On the massive oak round tables, not only were there mugs overflowing with frothy ale, but also several daggers stuck into the wood as markers to reserve seats.

A group of burly mercenaries were gathered in a corner, fueled by alcohol, talking loudly and without restraint.

"Hey! You guys hear? That place on West Street called the Pink Cat..."

A mercenary with a full beard and a hideous scar across his right eye propped his feet up on the table.

He made exaggerated gestures with a lewd grin on his face.

"They got some new dancers from foreign lands. Their figures... tsk tsk tsk, they sway their hips like boneless water snakes!"

"Especially the one with the veil. Her skin’s whiter than milk. I just got to touch her once last time, and I feel like I can die happy!"

"Hahahaha!"

"Look at you, you’re pathetic!"

His companions roared with laughter, one of them slamming his mug down with a deafening thud.

"Old Scarface, I think you’re planning to spend all your hard-earned blood money on women, huh? Be careful your legs don’t get so weak you can’t even lift your blade!"

"Screw you! Why else do we risk our lives to make a bit of coin if not to enjoy ourselves?"

Scarface chugged a large mouthful of ale and let out a belch thick with the smell of alcohol, his eyes hazy and nostalgic.

"It’s a shame... now we can only go to the Pink Cat. We can’t visit that other place, Wangyou Court, ever again."

"Wangyou Court? Isn’t that known as the best money pit in Blood Fang Town?"

A young mercenary nearby, who was polishing his Short Sword, looked up and asked in confusion, "Why can’t we go there anymore?"

"You haven’t heard? The owner of that brothel..."

Scarface lowered his voice and made a throat-slitting gesture. "Just a few days ago, someone slit his throat!"

"Huh?"

The whole table erupted. "He was offed? Who did it?"

"Who else could it be? Those guys from the Assassin’s Guild, of course," Scarface snorted.

Hearing that name, everyone went quiet for a moment.

The Assassin’s Guild was truly synonymous with death.

"I remember the owner of Wangyou Court was a famous, wealthy merchant, right?"

A balding mercenary said.

"The guy was rich enough to hire three or four Middle Level Professionals as bodyguards. He still got killed?"

"There’s always a chink in the armor."

Scarface dipped his finger in spilled ale and drew a line on the table.

"You know how those Assassins are. Just give them a crack, and they’ll slip right in."

"Tch... Is the Assassin’s Guild really that good?"

The young mercenary next to them said, unconvinced.

"If they’re really that amazing, why are they killing rich merchants? They should just go kill the Nobility. Wouldn’t the money come faster that way?"

"Are you stupid?!"

Scarface smacked the guy on the head.

"You think merchants and Nobility are comparable? Are they even in the same category?"

"You kill a merchant, you’re breaking the law. At most, the Security Team will investigate a bit. If they find nothing, they drop it."

"But if you dare to kill a Noble, you’re going against the entire Kingdom! The very next day, the local Assassin’s Guild branch would be torn up by the roots."

"Besides, any idiot who dares to target the Nobility would be hunted down by the Assassin’s Guild itself."

"It’s called... rules! You understand? Rules!"

After being lectured, the young mercenary shrank back and didn’t dare say another word.

"Never say never."

A man as skinny as a monkey nudged the mercenary with his elbow, his small eyes gleaming. "Someone actually did dare to go after the Nobility."

"Huh? For real?" Scarface said in surprise.

"For real. But it wasn’t an Assassin, it was a Mage," the skinny man said.

He was a second-hand information broker who drifted between several towns, so his news was reasonably reliable.

"A Mage?"

Now the group was even more surprised. "Aren’t Mages and the Nobility on the same side?"

In their minds, Mages and the Nobility were basically two peas in a pod. They usually spent their days visiting each other for tea and strengthening their ties.

How could they fight amongst themselves?

"There are always exceptions. Sometimes the Nobility piss off a Mage."

Seeing he had everyone’s attention, the skinny man got fired up.

"I heard that Mage went straight to their doorstep and detained the whole noble family."

"Who’s this Mage? He’s got some serious balls." The others were all intrigued.

"I think his name was something like Zeli..."

The skinny man slapped his forehead as he remembered. "Oh, right, Zelir!"

"Tsk tsk... that’s badass." The men next to him shook their heads in admiration.

"Hello."

A lazy female voice suddenly came from the side.

Everyone turned to look in unison.

It was a very beautiful woman, tall and slender with fair skin and the faint hint of a smile on her red lips.

Although a wide robe concealed her form, its hem would occasionally sway, outlining an alluring curve.

It wasn’t hard to imagine what kind of amazing figure was hidden underneath.

"What can we do for you, beautiful?" The skinny man shot his companions a look, and they immediately made room.

"I’m rather interested in what you were just saying."

Hill sat down directly in the empty spot. "You just said... that Mage is named Zelir?"

"That’s right, Zelir." The skinny man nodded confidently.

"Can you tell me more about it?"

Hill showed an interested expression. "I’m very curious."

Seeing that his information had attracted a beautiful woman, the skinny man became restless with excitement.

He opened up and began to talk nonstop.

"It happened a few days ago. There’s a major noble in Falling Leaves Town, I think they’re called... the Wenmier Clan?"

"The Patriarch of that clan is a complete idiot. For no good reason, he went and got mixed up with a Cult, even started doing human sacrifices. He specifically posted commissions to trick Adventurers into becoming sacrifices."

"And what a coincidence, he tried to pull his scam on that Zelir guy directly!"