He swiftly reached out with one hand and precisely gripped Logan Bennett's neck.

Logan Bennett realized that although the blond man's movements were as fast as lightning, he could actually see them clearly. Unfortunately, just seeing clearly was useless—his body had no time to react at all, and he could only watch helplessly as everything happened.

At such close range, he noticed that this blond man had extremely broad shoulders, bulging muscles all over, and sharp, icy eyes that seemed to pierce straight into one's soul.

An overwhelming pressure rushed toward him, and Logan Bennett felt as if he was facing not a human, but a wild beast on the verge of going berserk!

The blond man's hand tightened slightly, his voice cold as frost: "I don't care who you are! Don't make any unnecessary moves, or watch out for your neck!"

Logan Bennett felt breathless, his face turning bright red, unable to utter a word.

He had long known that showing up rashly would be risky, but he hadn't expected the risk to be this great. The guy in front of him was clearly the kind of ruthless killer who licked blood from the blade and regarded human life as worthless. On Earth, he would be the kind of murderer that ordinary people would fear at the mere mention of!

One wrong move, and he might die on the spot. But if he wanted freedom, if he wanted to leave this damned White Stone Fort, then this risk was worth taking!

Seeing his reaction, the blond man slightly loosened his grip.

Only then did Logan Bennett catch his breath, coughing repeatedly.

The short, stocky man also ran over, his face covered in mud, with a bleeding gash on his forehead from a stone on the ground. He roared at Logan Bennett, "Kid, you must be tired of living! See this stick in my hand? I'm going to shove it right up your ass!"

Logan Bennett took a deep breath, suppressing his anxiety. "I want to ask, are you the warriors who attacked White Stone Fort half a month ago?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a murderous glint flashed in the blond man's eyes: "How do you know that? Who are you?!"

Chapter 006: Negotiating with a Tiger (Part 2)

The silent Echo Valley.

"Big bro, stop wasting time with him! Just kill him already... ptooey~ He must be from White Stone Fort... ptooey~ ptooey~"

A short, stocky man kept wiping the mud off his face with his hands. Without a mirror, the more he wiped, the messier it got. Mud got into his mouth and eyes, making it almost impossible for him to open them.

He looked absolutely miserable.

If the atmosphere weren't so tense right now, Logan Bennett would definitely be laughing his head off.

The blond man thought this guy was a disgrace and couldn't help but growl, "Stop wiping! Go wash up in the creek!"

"Okay~"

The short, stocky man replied and obediently went to wash his face. But after just a few steps, he bumped into a big tree, his head hitting the trunk with a dull "thud."

This time, the hit was pretty hard. The short, stocky man clutched his head tightly and slowly squatted down. "Big bro, I'm dizzy."

"Idiot~"

The blond man cursed under his breath and ignored him, turning to glare at Logan Bennett, tightening his grip slightly, his voice even colder: "Answer me!"

Logan Bennett tensed up, putting away all thoughts of joking. He straightened his back and stared unblinkingly at the blond warrior. "My name is Logan Bennett, an enchanter, an enchanter from Boulder Fort..."

Before he could finish, the short, stocky warrior suddenly jumped up and swung his stick at Logan Bennett's head.

"So you really are from White Stone Fort! I'll smash your head in!"

The blond warrior waved his hand. "Gregory Howard, wait."

The short, stocky warrior immediately stopped, glaring fiercely at Logan Bennett.

Logan Bennett breathed a sigh of relief and continued, "I do live in White Stone Fort, but not by choice. For five years, I've suffered torture, endless labor, disgusting food, beds full of fleas and rats. Every day, I live in fear—it's no different from hell. I hate Fermiya more than anyone, and I want him dead more than anyone! The sooner the better!"

He spoke earnestly, every word coming from the heart, without a trace of falsehood.

The short, stocky warrior slowly lowered his stick and wiped his face again, accidentally smearing mud into his mouth. He spat several times before finally recovering. "Why didn't you say so earlier! You scared the hell out of me just now!"

The blond warrior also released his grip on Logan Bennett's neck, crossing his arms, his expression neither pleased nor angry. "My name is Kenneth Carter, and this is Gregory Howard. We're both mercenaries—we make our living by killing. You're right, half a month ago, my brothers and I did attack White Stone Fort."

Logan Bennett immediately pressed, "And? What happened?"

The short, stocky warrior Gregory Howard glared and snapped, "Kid, weren't you in White Stone Fort? Are you blind? Of course we failed."

Logan Bennett realized there was a misunderstanding and quickly clarified, "I mean, was Fermiya injured?"

The warrior Gregory Howard immediately deflated. "Injured my ass. We didn't even touch a hair on him—we were completely wiped out."

The blond warrior Kenneth Carter nodded. "Gregory Howard is right. Throughout the entire battle, almost none of our attacks touched Fermiya. There were just too many undead in White Stone Fort. However, the mage Derek Smith seemed to cast a curse on Fermiya before he died... As for the result of the curse, we had to retreat so quickly that I didn't see what happened."

"A curse? What kind of curse?" Logan Bennett asked urgently.