"Is this your handiwork?" A burly man barged in, leading the charge, brandishing a pristine, high-quality parchment adorned with an intricately drawn nude woman, her curves meticulously crafted from the cherries to the forests, seamlessly incorporating the subtle yellow flaws and creases into the strokes, enhancing its allure.

Penny glimpsed and understood the art referred to by the rabbit. Normally, he would have praised and admired the fine craftsmanship displayed in the painting. However, recalling the brute's behavior towards Vika moments ago ignited a spark of anger within him.

So, when several burly men cast questioning glances at him and Vika, both took a step back, shaking their heads in unison. "We have no association with him."

"Vika... Help!" Anael, hoisted by one of the men like a chick, flailed about in mid-air, pleading loudly for mercy.

"You shameless scoundrel, reap the wrath of the ice troll!" Vika, well-aware of the rabbit's modus operandi, closed her eyes, sighed, and shook her head in resignation.

"You shameless wretch, face the fury of the ice troll!"

Ice troll? Penny recalled the name. Born and bred in the northern territories of Letherman, if not chosen by the Witch's Circle, young men and women would be sent by their families to nearby places known as "cottages" for training, becoming resilient warriors of the north.

These cottages, serving as both training grounds and military camps, bore prefixes often linked to the creatures surrounding their locations. The sole cottage in Musgantir was named "Ice Troll," renowned for its warriors leading the charge in battles against the Sael, earning widespread fame, even reaching the ears of Penny.

The burly man grew increasingly furious as he cursed, then with a swift motion, hurled the rabbit-like man to the ground. The four men beside him pounced, pinning Anael's limbs to the ground, forming a large letter "X". A berserker stepped forward, wielding a wheel-shaped battle-axe, poised like a golfer about to tee off, but aiming squarely between Anael's legs. If he struck a hole-in-one, it would surely be a disastrous outcome.

Watching the berserker's stance, the half-elf pinned to the ground clearly foresaw the painful future. Trembling and crying for help, he magically developed a frosty yellow hue on the outside of his trousers.

The berserkers burst into hearty laughter. "This puny lad without any balls dares to have designs on Yulia?"

Vika felt somewhat awkward and turned her head away. Penny, wearing a peculiar expression, asked her, "Is this person truly useful?"

"Though he may seem like this normally, among the information brokers of the Northern Lands, few are as valuable as him," Vika rolled her eyes, replying thus.

Well, eccentricities can be tolerated in those with some skill... Penny thought, then turned to see the ax-wielder measuring Anael's pants. The half-elf had started foaming at the mouth. Penny cleared his throat and addressed them, "Please, hold on a moment."

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"What's the matter?" Several massive, bell-like eyes stared at Penny. "Are you going to plead for this fellow?"

"No," Penny calmly shook his head, pointing to the relieved Anael on the ground. "It's just that he owes me two thousand gold coins. If you kill him now, I'll have no way to collect my debt."

"This lad still owes so much?" The berserkers looked astonished at the elf lying on the ground.

"Therefore, would you allow me to collect my debt first, and then you can punish him for his actions?" Penny politely requested. "The Three Gods have taught us to follow the order of precedence in all matters."

"This is indeed true." Leiserman worships the Three Goddesses, and its people are of simple and rustic demeanor. A group of berserkers, seeing Penny's courteous demeanor, nodded in agreement. "We'll wait outside while you settle the debt. Let's see if this lad can make a run for it."

"Hurry." Seeing several berserkers leaving, Anael quickly pulled the two inside the cabin. The room was in disarray, with hundreds of sketches of nude figures on the walls, leaving both Penny and Vika dumbfounded, feeling somewhat awkward. Looking at Anael's gaze was akin to staring at an alien.

"Hey, women from the North have large and coarse pores, devoid of any scent. If it weren't for my artistic impulse needing an outlet, how could I have sought out that woman?!" Anael muttered as he tidied up the room. "The best subjects are the women from the Central regions, listen, especially those from Hartland. Their skin is as smooth as satin, with a scent reminiscent of milk tea..."

The region of Hartland... It seemed to be north of the Dragon Coast. Penny glanced sideways at Vika's neck, indeed noticing some similarities with what Anael had mentioned.

"Cough." Sensing the lascivious gaze of the little pervert, Vika blushed and coughed. "Anael, could you please hold off on your rogue artistry for a moment? We need your help with something."

"Help? Pay up," Anael said without hesitation. "Or satisfy my artistry."

"We just saved your life," Vika attempted to persuade him.

"Damn it, if it weren't for you breaking my illusion, they wouldn't have come knocking," Anael retorted.

"The current issue is, if you refuse to help, I'll go outside and call them in," Penny lamented, spreading his hands regretfully as he watched Anael pull out a tunnel from beneath the fireplace. "If you crawl in there, I believe they'll be quite delighted to pour some oil in and turn you into a roasted rabbit."

"You're quite the loathsome fellow," Anael turned his head, glaring fiercely at Penny. Seeing the youth's calm demeanor, he finally sighed in frustration, as if resigned. "Speak up, damn it, get on with it. I need to make my escape."

"I seek an opportunity to join either the Witch's Coven or the ranks of the Berserker rebels, whichever side may accept me," Penny succinctly stated his purpose.

"Very well. A group of Tyr's holy warriors are being summoned by the Witch's Coven to come to our aid, and I'm the intermediary responsible for facilitating this. If we accompany them, and you gain their approval, you might have a chance to join as a mercenary," Anael explained.

"You, an intermediary for a group of holy warriors?" Penny couldn't believe it. Followers of Tyr, with their principles of fairness and justice, would actually trust such a lascivious aficionado of human anatomy?

"In the eyes of Tyr's holy warriors and the Witch's Coven, a somewhat eccentric troubadour like me is far more reliable than a wizard's apprentice like Serl," Anael glanced at Penny, whose face had suddenly changed color. His gaze was sharp, devoid of the earlier lewdness. "Don't think your newly learned Comier accent will impress anyone. It might deceive those single-minded berserkers, but for your own sake, it's best to keep quiet in front of those witches."

Penny's heart skipped a beat, immediately closing his mouth. In that moment, any disdain he held for this rabbit disappeared without a trace.

"Now, come with me," Anael beckoned to Penny and Vika, leading the way into the secret passage.