When Kragan entered the inn in the centre of the city with his huge body, he attracted the attention of everyone inside. His footsteps made noise, as if an elephant was walking. His massive silhouette drew the gaze of everyone, from the innkeeper to the drunks in the far corners. He was a rare height even among the Rhazgord, over two metres tall and broad-shouldered, like a walking mountain, not a man. Zarqa, who walked silently beside him, had become invisible in the face of Kragan's majesty. Zarqa's slender build and silent steps were a stark contrast to Kragan's loudness. This contrast, however, made them a perfect pair for the task.

Kragan's muscles were the result of endless training in the camp during his childhood. Other young men would stop training at noon and go home exhausted. But Kragan wanted more. In the corner of the camp, he would continue to do additional training to further develop his huge muscles. At the same time, Corvus, like Kragan, was an unsatisfied warrior. The two met during these extra training sessions and soon became friends. Then Baldrek joined them and a deep friendship was established between the three.

Zarqa sat quietly at the table while Kragan watched everyone in the inn. As soon as Kragan sat down, he began to shout with his loud voice:

"Bring food! But a lot!"

His voice was so strong that everyone in the inn fell silent for a moment. The innkeeper rushed to them and tried to understand Kragan's order only by speaking with a broken accent. But Kragan's booming voice was loud enough to be heard even by people on the street, and it was impossible for the innkeeper not to hear or understand it. Kragan fidgeted impatiently in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight.

"I said I want food! Bring whatever you have! I haven't eaten anything today!"

Kragan's voice echoed as if he were giving orders on a battlefield. But the innkeeper did not seem to understand what he was saying. Zarqa, realising the situation, intervened in a soft but clear voice in Adler:

"Bring something to eat. A large portion for my friend and normal for me."

With a nod indicating that he understood the language, the innkeeper quickly turned back towards his stall, while Zarqa took a deep breath and began to survey her surroundings. Kragan frowned, grumbling at the innkeeper's incompetence. He muttered to himself in a surprisingly low voice:

"This idiot doesn't speak Rhazgord language."

Zarqa nodded. Kragan's massive frame was an excellent distraction, but a quiet, observant man like Zarqa was adept at noticing the oddities around him. That the innkeeper did not speak Rhazgord was not a problem in itself, but this innkeeper was working alone in a large and crowded inn. Most of the tables were full, some even full of Rhazgordians, but only one person was serving. And that one person couldn't even speak the language of most of his customers.

Zarqa tried to unravel the mystery behind these small details. The accent of the innkeeper, the lack of staff, the unusual situation for an inn in such a busy part of the city. These were signs that did not fit the functioning of a normal inn, and Zarqa's suspicion was growing.

A few minutes in the inn was a lifetime for Kragan. He was starving, impatient, and his eyes darted around for food. There was always hot food in the inns and the orders were prepared quickly, but this time things were different. When Kragan's impatience reached its peak, he fixed his eyes on the innkeeper and shouted in a loud voice, banging his hand on the table:

"Where the fuck is the food?!"

Kragan's voice echoed through the inn. Behind the counter, the innkeeper, who was moving in a hurry, accelerated even more. Kragan's frightening size and anger were enough to make the poor man sweat. Soon the innkeeper came to the table with two plates of food. But the food was not what Kragan had expected. It was obvious that the food was of poor quality, hastily and carelessly prepared. Although there were so many customers in the inn, there was no pre-prepared food. This raised Zarqa's suspicions even more.

Kragan looked angrily at his plate. It took him only the first bite to realise that the food was tasteless, but he was so hungry that he continued to eat even though he was disgusted. Each mouthful he chewed tried his patience a little more. Zarqa was silently observing the surroundings. Her eyes fell on the men sitting at the tables. They were dressed like merchants, but when she looked carefully, they all had only drinks in front of them. Traders were usually supposed to eat at this hour, but these men were content with alcohol. It was rare for a merchant to drink alcohol at such an early hour. Moreover, the men's bodies looked more like warriors than merchants. Even though their clothes hid them, their muscular build was unmistakable. Zarqa felt it was time to act.

He tilted his head slightly towards Kragan, a silent signal that told Kragan to ‘go’. Kragan reluctantly pushed his food aside and suddenly threw his plate to the ground. As it hit the floor and shattered, he announced his anger in a booming voice:

"Anyone who eats this shit can't be human! This inn should be catering to dogs!"

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Kragan's voice echoed through the inn like thunder. The men at the tables, disguised as foreign merchants, watched Kragan's outburst without responding, but the Rhazgordians and drunks in the inn would have none of it. One of them pushed his chair aside in a huff and stood up. His back was broad and his voice strong enough to rival Kragan's.

"Get the fuck out if you don't like it," he said, glaring at Kragan. "You think you're fucking something because of your big head?"

Kragan's eyes suddenly flashed dangerously. The muscles in his neck tensed, his fists clenched, and as he prepared to lunge at the man, it was as if he had just sparked a bar fight. But just then Zarqa's cold, determined voice echoed in Kragan's ear:

"Take your time and don't kill anyone."

As Zarqa's warning fed Kragan's dark side, a devilish smile appeared on his face. Hunger, anger, and the desire for violence blended together, making him ready to explode. Zarqa's words sounded almost like an invitation to Kragan. His whole body was ready to savour the violence as he started the fight.

‘Don't kill anyone,’ he muttered, as if starting a ritual.

Kragan's huge body began to move like a giant hammer in the narrow space of the inn. The moment he raised his hand, he deflected the fist of the Rhazgord warrior in front of him and picked up the table in his other hand and threw it into the air. As the table spun in the air and hit the ground, it seemed like a fireball to the innkeeper's eyes, and as the sounds of clashing wood and iron filled the inn, Kragan moved forward in chaos. With every movement, tables, chairs, and even people were thrown around; the inn was turning into an apocalypse. He deliberately bumped into the men dressed as merchants who got in his way, involving them in the fight. Seeing the confusion and fear on the faces of each of them made Kragan's pleasure even greater.

Meanwhile, Zarqa moved silently in the midst of the chaos. While the storm of destruction created by Kragan attracted all eyes, Zarqa, like an invisible shadow, headed to a corner of the inn. There, a thick wooden door caught his attention. A sturdy lock hung on the door, an implausible detail, for the innkeeper must have been constantly coming and going through it. The size and strength of the lock caught Zarqa's attention. He was almost certain that what he was looking for was behind this door. But breaking the lock would leave a mark, and Zarqa was not one to make such mistakes. He chose the hard way.

He took out a small lock pick from his pocket and carefully began to pick the lock. His fingers probed the lock with quick and precise movements, and clicks and small cracks could be heard. Zarqa had learnt this skill on one of her old mercenary campaigns. After a few seconds of meticulous work, the lock slowly opened. Zarqa quietly opened the door and stepped inside. The air inside was cool and dark, filled with the smell of old wood.

When he entered the warehouse, he found dozens of crates lined up in neat rows. There was no food or drink inside. He started to open the crates and what he found inside confirmed the secrets he was looking for: Weapons, long-lasting provisions, medicines... This warehouse was not a place where a merchant stored supplies; it was an armoury. Zarqa continued to examine the crates at a rapid pace, each of them giving clues to the preparations for a war. This many weapons and supplies could not be a coincidence, they had to be related to the man Corvus had chased, and to the men who had been watching the camp.

Zarqa had learnt all he needed to know. Now it was time to turn back. Silently, he closed the door, reinstated the lock, and disappeared like a shadow into the crowd of the inn. In the middle of the fight, Kragan was throwing punches, knocking over tables, knocking down his enemies. Zarqa found Kragan's eyes and gave a silent signal. Kragan, who acted instantly, was playing the last act of the fight. With one last punch, he knocked down the man who opposed him, then knocked down the last few men around him one by one. Their eyes locked on each other after the duo had turned the inn into a scene of pandemonium. The plan had succeeded.

Zarqa quickly headed for the back door of the inn. He had to disappear like a shadow, because there were men slowly gathering in front of the front door. These were Tanar's men and they had heard the sound of the bar fight. They had come to restore order and punish the guilty. When they saw Kragan, they gasped in surprise. While they were thinking about how to control a giant like Kragan, Kragan walked towards them in his usual relaxed manner.

"I'll never eat here again," he shouted, as if all this chaos was caused only by the terrible food. Then he threw his sword and weapons at the men's feet.

As the men looked at each other in confusion, Kragan continued with a mocking expression: "What are you looking at? Won't you arrest me and take me to Tanar!"

The mockery and threat in his words froze the gaze of Tanar's men. But before they realised what was happening, Kragan was already acting as if he had surrendered. By then, Zarqa had already disappeared into the alleyways. Thanks to Kragan's diversionary manoeuvre, Zarqa was able to sneak his way back to the camp.