"Please wait, my Baron." At this moment, the Demon Hunter Abel had a different opinion.
"Do you have a better idea, Abel?" Laine had already taken out the warhammer.
"My Baron, you must be carrying Winford's fine wine, right? Could you lend me a bottle? It doesn't have to be the best grape wine; I need a good butter beer, or malt beer would do," the Demon Hunter said respectfully.
"Of course, I have some." Laine took out a bottle of premium malt beer, made from the first brew of malt, a high-end luxury.
Abel took the malt beer, shook it lightly, and smiled, "My Baron, mercenaries from the Southern Realm indeed have strong combat power, are well-equipped, and are fearless, but they have a fatal weakness, which is that they cannot resist the temptation of fine wine. Especially this kind of premium malt beer, even the best-trained mercenaries will throw all rules and duties out the window when they see it."
"Interesting, let's give it a try," Laine agreed to the suggestion.
