The mage's resistance was fiercer than anticipated, but Du Wei had his own methods to handle him.
"Keep an eye on him. Don't let him escape. Remember, he's a mage—just prevent his magic from returning, and he won't even be as powerful as an ordinary person," Du Wei instructed the two knights tasked with guarding the prisoner. "Every so often, give him a cold shower. Just make sure he doesn't sleep or meditate. Keep him constantly awake and on edge."
Magic is, after all, mental strength. Humans replenish mental strength through rest, usually by sleep—and for mages, through meditation. If he's unable to recover his energy, then he's as weak as a regular person.
Du Wei then returned to his own quarters, meeting his loyal servant Mad and two knights who bore expressions of sly amusement.
"What's going on?" Du Wei asked with a gentle smile.
"Young Master, everything is ready. Are you...going in now?" One knight smiled obsequiously.
Du Wei's lips twitched. Without fully grasping their meaning, he merely waved them away and stepped into his room, the servant closing the door behind him.
This modest tavern room was no luxury suite, but it was decently tidy. To his mild surprise, Du Wei soon realized the reason for the amused glances from his men earlier.
Inside, bound to a chair, was the young woman with long legs, looking deflated, her hands and feet tied with care—his men had used sturdy rawhide to ensure no disturbance to their master's "entertainment."
Seeing the young scoundrel step forward, Rowlin felt a pang of true fear. This guy seemed quite young—maybe not yet capable of anything too terrible. Yet, Rowlin knew well her allure for men.
And her real worry wasn't that he might covet her fiery beauty; rather, it was that this young noble, seemingly uninterested in women, might render her greatest weapon useless.
She understood well the effect her looks had on men and had honed this into an art. Rowlin had survived and even led her small, obscure adventurer band precisely because she knew how to use her feminine wiles. At times, she didn't mind taking a minor loss, as long as it yielded her something valuable.
Such as that curve-bladed knife gifted by an amorous mercenary captain, or even this newly recruited mage. Yes, it was her beauty that had drawn them both in.
A true fox at twenty, Rowlin knew how to enthrall those approaching her with hidden agendas while staying deftly in control.
Now, facing this well-armed noble and his retinue, she silently cursed her luck. Who would have thought that on this escape to the southern Cort Province, she'd run into a noble backed by so many guards? Or that her supposed invincible mage would be helplessly subdued?
Sigh, had she just endured the whistle, she might have avoided all this.
As the young noble drew closer, Rowlin steeled herself: If he truly intended to have his way with her, then she would simply shut her eyes and let herself endure it.
More than the prospect of sacrifice, she mourned her magic gear—the curve-bladed knife from the mercenary captain, the enchanted armor from the northern baron. But worst of all was losing her ancestral anti-magic bow.
She watched as the boy's hand reached towards her. Rowlin braced herself, mulling over how best to please him and perhaps even secure her freedom. Should she feign fear to feed his sense of conquest? Or appear helpless to win his pity? Perhaps a blend of gentle obedience?
Swiftly assessing his age, Rowlin decided to go with innocence—a bit of shyness, a tremor in her eyes, a naïve, wide-eyed look... Surely, this youthful boy would fall for such a display. Who knew? He might even let her go afterward, and she might gain something more.
She began her performance, closing her eyes, her lips trembling slightly as her long lashes fluttered with an air of rabbit-like timidity and fear. Though it felt somewhat juvenile for a woman of twenty, she trusted her innocence would dazzle this young noble.
Seeing him appraise her figure, bound in her thin wrap beneath which her curves were revealed, Rowlin felt both angry and humiliated. Was he not a man? Or was he blind?
Finally, unable to bear his indifference, she coughed softly, trying to draw his attention. To her dismay, he merely glanced over, then busied himself admiring her armor.
She coughed again—louder each time until her throat ached, her indignation turning into absurdity. Could it be? Was there something wrong with him?
At last, Du Wei looked up.
"Is your throat sore?" he asked casually, glancing at her with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Ruo Lin was filled with an almost overwhelming desire to crash her head against a wall and end it all. However, fortunately, the man finally turned his gaze toward her. She bit her lip, and with all the grace she could muster, she continued her act, speaking in a soft, faltering voice, "What... what do you intend to do with me?" As she spoke, she cast a delicate, pitiable glance his way.
Du Wei smiled, his eyes scanning Ruo Lin's form. There was a hint of derision in his gaze, which made Ruo Lin feel uneasy. She could clearly sense that when he looked at her body, his eyes held no lust, only amusement.
Suddenly, a shadow swooped toward her, enveloping her in its grasp. She struggled for a moment, pushing her head out of the shadow, only to find herself covered by a bed sheet Du Wei had casually thrown over her. The sheet draped over her half-naked body, concealing her form beneath.
"When I'm engaged in serious matters, I find it distracting to have a half-naked woman watching me," Du Wei remarked, his tone calm as if he were stating a simple fact. He glanced at Ruo Lin with mild indifference. "Whatever your plans may be, I must say your performance just now was utterly lacking. I have other matters to attend to. If you intend to seduce me, perhaps you should take this time to think of a better strategy."
Ruo Lin felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head. This young man, his gaze and tone—good heavens, he was no child. From the calm, composed look in his eyes, it was clear he had far more experience than she ever could have imagined.
Du Wei had already settled into a comfortable position in the chair, and began examining the enchanted leather armor in his hands through a magnifying glass. He even retrieved paper and a pen to trace the magical runes on the armor, closing his eyes for a moment in deep thought.
Throughout this, Ruo Lin said nothing, her mind racing as she tried to decipher the intentions of this noble, all the while feeling a strange curiosity about him. The pale, delicate face of the young noble was so refined, yet his manner and gaze suggested a level of experience with women that she found unsettling.
"I'm rather curious about the three weapons you possess," Du Wei spoke, his voice still steady and unhurried. He didn't even look up from his examination. "The patterns on this leather armor are magical, granting enhancements to both strength and agility. Judging by the condition of the leather, this piece is quite old. To me, it seems more like an antique than a weapon. Also, it bears a family crest. If my memory serves, it's from one of the noble families within the Stuttgard system of the North. Stuttgard originated from an ancient family that flourished during the Imperial resurgence three hundred years ago, but after a century, they began to decline and eventually split into several smaller families. This armor likely hails from one of those Northern noble houses."
Ruo Lin froze, listening in awe. Du Wei spoke with such confidence, dissecting the origins of her belongings as if they were common knowledge. She had never encountered someone so perceptive.
"And your curved dagger..." Du Wei continued, lifting his gaze momentarily, "In truth, a woman isn't ideally suited for such a weapon. It requires considerable wrist strength. This type of weapon is favored by the northern tribes. And yet..." He paused, his eyes scanning her. "Your hair is brown, and your eyes are blue, marking you as part of the southern, true-blooded Roland Empire lineage. You certainly lack any northern tribal blood. From your earlier display, your fighting style seems more suited for swords. Fortunately, though your strength is lacking, this armor's enhancement allows you to wield the dagger—though it's a bit of a waste."
Ruo Lin was stunned. Everything Du Wei said was absolutely accurate. The leather armor had indeed been a gift from a lecherous northern baron, and the dagger had come from the leader of a mercenary band—one of the very northern tribes he spoke of.
Du Wei rubbed his brow thoughtfully. "What really piques my interest is your anti-magic bow..." He slowly retrieved the silver bow and placed it on the table, his smile widening. "The pattern on this bow is a series of diagonal slashes, which in heraldry, represents the moon, the power of the moon. According to books I've read, this is a symbol of the ancient Moon family, who once ruled half of this continent. Sadly, their kingdom fell during the continental wars, and their family perished. But... this weapon, with its connection to the Moon family, is a rare relic indeed."
His finger traced the smooth surface of the bow, his gaze mischievous. "What intrigues me is how a small-time adventurer like yourself, with mediocre skills, came to possess three such rare, magical weapons. One from the North, one from the Northwest, and one from a long-extinct family... What is your true identity, I wonder?"
Ruo Lin was struck silent. Du Wei's vast knowledge was not only impressive but also unnerving. The fact that he had drawn all of this information from the weapons alone, without any reference material, left her speechless.
"How do you know all of this?" she finally managed to ask, her voice a whisper.
"Books," Du Wei replied, setting down the bow and smiling. "Books contain all of humanity's knowledge, and knowledge is the beacon guiding our progress. I've been reading them since I was six."
"Six?" Ruo Lin marveled. "You must be a genius... Have you read many books?"
"Quite a few," Du Wei chuckled. "But I'm no genius. In fact, I hated books when I was younger. I didn't care for knowledge at all."
"Then you..." Ruo Lin was about to ask more, but the words faltered as she realized this was hardly the right time for a casual conversation.
Du Wei, however, seemed unfazed. He smiled lightly, his voice low as though speaking to himself. "There's a story... A porcelain shop owner spent years crafting a beautiful new piece, only for it to be shattered by an unwitting outsider. The outsider, feeling guilty, vowed to create an even better piece as compensation. Yes... compensation."
"Compensation?" Ruo Lin was confused.
Du Wei chuckled again. "You seem more interested in other people's stories than your own. If I were you, I'd focus on your current predicament."
"But... you don't seem to mind speaking about these things," Ruo Lin countered.
"Oh, it's because you're a beautiful girl with a pair of lovely legs," Du Wei shrugged nonchalantly. "Most men can't help but talk more around beautiful women—it's in their nature."
Ruo Lin gritted her teeth, suddenly overwhelmed by a deep sense of helplessness. Facing this young noble, she felt like a child again. Each word, each smile, and every glance seemed so profound, as if his calm gaze could pierce right through her.
"What do you intend to do with me?" she asked, her tone resigned.
Du Wei smiled. "Weren't you trying to seduce me earlier? Well, why don't you try again?"