Otto, with bleary eyes from drunkenness, stared at Losa, his brown eyes brimming with an unmistakable envy.

"Losa, how on earth did you do it?"

If you had a hook as well, then you could do it.

Losa remained silent for a while, supporting his swaying figure: "You've had too much to drink, go rest. We'll talk in detail when you sober up."

Otto opened his mouth, saying nothing, and instead slapped his head in frustration.

The alcohol of this era generally has a lower degree, but drinking too much still gets one drunk.

Those bar brawlers, who end up with head injuries, are the best evidence.

Moreover, the wine at Sibilla's banquet was clearly not your typical "fermented grape juice."

Losa called over a knight from the Habsburg Family to help Otto and escort him to a guest room.

Watching him leave, Losa's expression turned somewhat complicated.

The original Otto and Losa each had their strengths. Losa was skilled in personal martial arts, while Otto excelled in academics.

When they were young, learning Gaulish under the priest, Losa could never match Otto's speed; Otto had already begun learning Latin, while Losa still couldn't fluently read Gaulish.

Recalling what Otto had said before, he couldn't help but silently remark, "Indeed, he seems like a different person now."

The ice-cold young woman in the red dress gently wrapped her arm around Losa's, asking:

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, just feeling a bit sentimental."

Losa exchanged a smile with Prajna.

Meanwhile, two knights requested Princess Sibilla for a duel performance.

The banquet gradually reached its climax.

These two knights displayed commendable martial arts, and their fight was incredibly exciting.

The crowd of knights watched, unable to tear their eyes away.

Finally, the victor delivered a beautiful thrust, placing the dull-edged wooden sword made for this contest at his opponent's throat.

"Beautiful!"

"Well done!"

The applause thundered.

The victor withdrew his wooden sword and, amidst the crowd's cheers, walked straight toward Losa.

He knelt on one knee and said, "Lord Losa, I wish to dedicate this victory to you."

"I know you, knight."

Losa gazed at the somewhat familiar face, recalling, "Your name is Ned Stark, right?"

The knight looked shocked: "You… you remember me?"

Losa smiled and said, "Of course, you wore a tattered set of armor and achieved a commendable result in the knight's tournament in Vienna."

"I owe it all to your generosity and kindness back then. If you hadn't waived my ransom, I wouldn't be here today."

Losa said earnestly, "The Heavenly Father will always protect pious warriors. Knight Ned, would you swear loyalty to me?"

Ned replied with excitement: "Of course… if you are willing to accept me."

"I am more than willing to accept your allegiance, Knight Ned. Unfortunately, there is no priest to witness this at the banquet."

"Tomorrow, I will accept your allegiance at the Jaffa's Tel Aviv church."

Losa said with a smile.

...

In the garden.

A burly man wearing a somewhat tattered bear skin cloak stood in the corridor, silently awaiting an audience, holding an iron-clad wooden flask.

Anahad felt that the world was becoming increasingly magical.

Previously, when people heard him claim to be a demon hunter, they often harbored resentment or even fear, unwilling to communicate with him.

But in Jerusalem, part of the Holy Land where the theological atmosphere is most intense, he found himself invited as a guest of Her Highness the Princess and frequently summoned.

The attendant walked toward him, calling out:

"Anahad, follow me. The distinguished guest wishes to see you."

"Mm."

The taciturn demon hunter followed the attendant into a room.

A young, vigorous-looking nobleman sat atop the stone steps, looking down.

"You are the demon hunter?"

"Yes, sir."

Anahad's eyes betrayed a flicker of surprise.

Losa keenly noted the shock in the other's eyes and frowned, saying, "You seem quite startled to see me?"

"Yes, sir, because I rarely see warlocks, let alone those who serve as secular lords."

Anahad's weathered face managed a stiff smile.

"The vast spiritual power within you already reveals your identity, but I cannot sense what attribute your magic power holds."

Truly capable!

Losa grew serious: "Mr. Anahad, tell me about the werewolf you've been pursuing."

Anahad sat beside him, shifting uncomfortably. In Losa, he sensed a powerful pressure akin to a human-shaped giant dragon perched on a throne.

The lord he had met before paled in comparison.

Even his inherently cold demeanor involuntarily revealed a subtle sense of humility.

"It is a typical black-maned werewolf. I pursued it from Bohemian Prague all the way here."

"Pursued?"

Losa frowned, "So, it is no longer a match for you?"

Anahad nodded decisively, "Indeed. We demon hunters are equipped with secret silver weapons tailor-made for dealing with demons, far more damaging than Demon-Blocking Gold, and we are familiar with demonic habits."

"In Prague, I had already severely injured it, though it managed to escape, the cunning beast."

Losa nodded slightly, "What motivates you? I mean, why chase this werewolf across great distances until the Holy Land?"

Anahad remained silent for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "Our demon hunters wield demonic power. Each of us has a demon sealed within through ritual magic, and I need this werewolf's corpse for our school's reserves."

"Makes sense."

Losa nodded slightly.

But beside him, Prajna shook her head gently, her tone calm, "He's lying."

Anahad's expression changed slightly.

Losa propped his chin with his hand and sighed softly, "Demon hunter, I believe we can be more straightforward."

"For instance, the black-maned werewolf you're tracking was once a demon hunter?"

"You… you…" He felt a genuine sense of dread upon being found out.

Anahad's forehead broke out in large beads of sweat, "How do you know?"

Losa chuckled lightly, "Demonic power isn't so easily wielded."

The Dragon Bloodline alone requires continuous spiritual strengthening to resist the erosion of reason. Not to mention, the Dark Attribute power drastically threatens one's sanity.

Considering Anahad's earlier words, in this world, demon hunters must harbor a demon within.

The truth is quite apparent.

"Yes, you guessed correctly. That black-maned werewolf was a traitor from our Warsaw Demon Hunter School. He took one of the school's demon seal items and tried to incorporate the demon into himself."

"So, the black-maned werewolf you're pursuing is actually still a demon hunter?"

"That's one way to put it."

"Have you read the popular demon hunter novels from the Holy Land?"

"No, I can't read, but I've heard some in the taverns."

"I wrote them."

"Thank you for representing us demon hunters fairly."

"Heh."

Losa nodded noncommittally, "That's settled, then. I will have someone monitor this demon hunter you mentioned."

"Noble lord, you must take this seriously; if this traitor releases the demon, it will surely cause a disaster."

"I will."

Losa's face grew serious, "I forgot to introduce myself; I am the Grand Master of the Jerusalem Royal Knight Order, responsible for maintaining Jerusalem's public order."

"You are Count Losa?"

Anahad exclaimed in surprise.

"Indeed, Anahad, until we catch your comrade, you will stay by my side."

"Alright."

After instructing the attendant to take Anahad to rest, Losa asked, "What do you think of his strength?"

"Not much weaker than Hans."

Prajna said in a low voice.

Furinjira added from the side, "His body probably holds a vampire. The decaying scent of vampires in this world alone makes me feel nauseous."

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