An accidentally flung large wine cup became the fuse for the brawl.

Of course, the large wine cup couldn’t hit "Silver Eye" Salik. Salik punched in an instant, his fist enveloped in fighting spirit shattered the wine cup, not even a drop of wine splashed on him.

However, the splattered fragments of the wine cup, like sharp hidden weapons, struck the faces and bodies of the surrounding Wild Wolf Fox mercenaries.

The two mercenaries closest to it couldn't dodge in time and were cut across the face by the fragments of the wine cup, immediately letting out screams of pain.

Salik intended to find out who threw the wine cup amidst the crowd, but the mercenaries of Wild Wolf Fox cursed and pounced on him.

Solich charged at the forefront, a cold light slashing towards Salik's face.

"Seeking death!" A cold light flashed in Salik's one eye, he sidestepped the blade, and with a swift hand, grabbed Solich's wrist holding the sword, twisting it outward, while his other fist, wrapped in fighting spirit, solidly pounded Solich's abdomen.

Despite holding an enchanted long sword, Solich, a mere level three warrior, had a significant gap in strength with Salik. The intense pain in his abdomen distorted his face, and as he was sent flying backward, the long sword slipped from his hand.

The disarmed long sword flew past a mercenary's head, embedding itself half a foot deep into a pillar of the bar.

Just as Salik sent Solich flying, two Wild Wolf Fox mercenaries pounced on him from both sides. Salik knocked down one with a kick but was kicked in the waist by another mercenary, stumbling back several steps, nearly falling.

Having just stabilized himself, Solich, enduring the severe pain, got up. This time, he didn't reach for his sword but screamed and lunged at Salik.

Using weapons in a bar fight was already against the rules, and Solich had already broken this rule, so Salik had started with a heavy hand by sending his sword flying.

Seeing this, mercenaries from both sides surged forward, tables and chairs flew, and fists met flesh, plunging the scene into a chaotic brawl.

Although Salik had the upper hand in combat power, there were seven Wild Wolf Fox mercenaries against only four from Bloodspike. Unable to use lethal force, Salik ended up taking several hits.

Brawls among mercenaries in bars were common, but a large-scale melee between two mercenary groups was rare. The surrounding mercenaries excitedly shouted, gulping down their drinks.

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Nightingale, having seen such scenes before, remained leaning on the bar in contemplation. The chaotic scene before her took her back to her younger days when she had also witnessed two small mercenary group leaders brawl over her.

The noise of cursing, the thuds of fists on bodies, and cheers almost lifted the roof off the bar.

Unnoticed among the excited onlookers were two slim figures, appearing as excited and loud as the other mercenaries, but their wide cloaks hid their forms, and their eyes held a calm gaze.

"You're the smart one, coming up with such a trick," Tony whispered to Arthur with a light kick.

"I don't think it's enough; this won't make things big enough," Arthur whispered back.

"Heh, watch me," Tony chuckled and moved back.

A bearded mercenary at the back, trying to get a better view, cursed as the mercenaries in front blocked his sight. Suddenly, he felt a lightness at his waist, his view lifted, but before he could enjoy it, he was thrown into the middle of the fight.

"Who the hell is playing dirty!" The bearded mercenary looked back to find the culprit in mid-air.

Before he could spot anyone, he crashed into Salik, who was facing attacks from two sides. Salik stumbled forward, and Solich along with two other mercenaries took the chance to launch a fierce assault.

Salik, now truly enraged, burst out with his fighting spirit, sending Solich and the others flying. Turning around, he saw the bearded mercenary getting up and with a spin kick, sent him flying into the crowd of mercenaries, knocking down two more onlookers.

"You dare hit me too, Bloodspike really doesn’t have a single good soul!" The bearded mercenary got up, spat a bloody spit on the ground, not bothering to find who had thrown him, and charged at Salik.

"We're joining too!" The two mercenaries knocked down by the bearded one also attacked the Bloodspike mercenaries.

Only then did Salik realize he had hit the wrong person, but there was no backing down in a fight. Without holding back any longer, his fighting spirit erupted fully, relying on his superior level to knock down one after another charging at him.

The tavern was in utter chaos, with three mercenaries having charged in earlier, and others inexplicably pushed or thrown into the fray, deciding to join the melee after being attacked.

The majority of the mercenaries targeted the Stab Blood mercenaries. Aside from Salik, who was desperately counterattacking, the other three Stab Blood mercenaries had been knocked down and were being pummeled by other mercenaries.

"How's that for intensity?" Tony weaved through the crowd to rejoin Arthur.

"Then let's join in."

"Alright, Salik has had enough spotlight for today; I'll go give him a good one!" Tony said, eyeing Salik, who was surrounded by a white aura of fighting spirit, with a cold gleam in his eye.

"No, we're helping Stab Blood!" Arthur grabbed Tony, who was about to rush at Salik.

Tony paused, surprised.

"Trust me, it's the right move. Just be careful not to get recognized, and then we split up and retreat!" Arthur nodded firmly at Tony and slowly moved towards the pillar where the enchanted longsword was lodged.

Nightingle's brows furrowed; she sensed something was off. Tonight's brawl over a sword seemed to be spiraling out of control.

Just then, a series of snaps sounded, and three lights on the tavern walls shattered, plunging the room into darkness.

"Stop, everyone!" Nightingle, realizing the situation was amiss, attempted to halt the brawl.

A piercing scream almost simultaneously echoed with Nightingle's command.

The fight stopped instantly, and the tavern fell silent.

Solich was slowly falling to the ground, hands clutching his stomach, with a bone-handled, straight-bladed dagger stuck in it.

"It wasn't me, I didn't stab him!" A Stab Blood mercenary quickly shook his head as he got up, his sheath empty.

Nightingle was momentarily stunned; this was no longer just a simple brawl.