The nine men returned empty-handed and did not believe that the Miss of the Marquis' Mansion would kill them all, but at her casual command, her maid brought over nine bowls of steaming medicine, dark greenish-black in color.
The nine men exchanged looks, having already thought of a strategy on the way back.
If the Miss of the Marquis' Mansion really decided to be ruthless, then they wouldn't be blamed for what came next. With the sky so high and the Marquis' Mansion so far away, if they killed the Miss of the Marquis' Mansion here, at worst, they could become outlaws or wander the Itinerant World.
Immediately, someone slapped open the bowl of medicine, spilling the scalding concoction all over the floor.
The look in the Miss of the Marquis' Mansion's eye, cold as ice chips, swept over them, her murderous intent almost tangible. She waved her sleeve, and her maids retreated, trembling.
