And the young lady they were protecting was wearing a pure white gauze dress, with a tiny Schwali Lady hat perched on her head. Along the brim of the hat, a lifelike little snake was engraved, vividly capturing its spirit.

Hearing the sound of the tent’s outer curtain being lifted, the young lady’s body trembled slightly. Then, under Rafael and Moli’s scrutinizing gazes, she slowly turned her head bit by bit to look at them.

She turned out to be a Lady with long red hair, her features exquisitely delicate, lightly made up but not heavy. At this moment her expression held a trace of panic, along with a hint of grievance and helplessness. The corners of her eyes were slightly red, her gaze soft and moist; when she saw that the newcomers were two demi-humans, she even shrank back in fright, hurriedly withdrawing her gaze...

That delicate, pampered Lady appearance—she was the very picture of a wronged Nobles’ young miss. Just looking at that face full of stories was enough for Rafael and Moli to imagine countless matching scenarios.

Their expressions darkened at the same time, and the terrifying aura of one plus one far greater than two scared that delicate Schwali so much that she faltered, hastily reining in her cautious, probing gaze.

"Fisher, come and see, your good wife."

"Yes, Mr. Fischer."

"?"

Rafael and Moli turned back in unison, expressionless, to look at Fisher, who was walking in last from outside. Fisher himself was utterly confused, but his curiosity still overpowered his survival instincts; gritting his teeth, he forced himself to step into the tent, wanting to see clearly who this person actually was.

As soon as he entered, the Nobles’ young lady who had just now withdrawn her gaze bit by bit couldn’t help but look over again—and that look landed squarely on Fisher, who was in the middle of taking off his cloak.

Fisher’s face changed; he couldn’t help blurting out in surprise,

"Ingrid?! What are you doing here?"

Yes, this youthful and charming Schwali Lady before his eyes—who else could she be but Ingrid, the young intern reporter from the Giant Serpent Press he had parted ways with only a few days ago? Oh, correction, intern reporter.

It was just that, compared to her previous look and personality, the Ingrid in front of him had changed so drastically that Fisher couldn’t match her to the previous image for a moment.

The beautiful Lady in front of him, dressed in white gauze, her face originally full of grievance, drifting like duckweed in the wind—upon seeing Fisher, the expression on her face became even more pitifully tragic, the pink around her eyes growing a few shades deeper.

Pursing her lips in grievance, she rose to her feet under Fisher’s stunned gaze. Then, tears streaming down her face, she suddenly threw all caution to the wind and flung herself toward Fisher.

"Hubby!! How... how could you just abandon me like that? How could you be so heartless?!"

"?????"

Suddenly being rammed in the chest by a soft, sobbing body, Fisher felt as if he had experienced an unprecedented impact—an impact so overwhelming it nearly shattered even his Mythical Rank "Body and Soul" trait.

This kind of impact really shouldn’t even be called an impact; it could practically be described as a "world-shaking upheaval unseen in ten thousand years"!

Once upon a time, a greedy, unrestrained gentleman like him might have had such fantasies: fantasizing about a beautiful girl like the Ingrid before him descending from the Sky as his wife, willingly throwing herself into his arms. And if this heaven-sent wife also happened to be "quite well-off," a rich lady, then that would be even better.

Now, right in front of Fisher, the "wife from the Sky" had arrived, and the "quite well-off" part standing by her side was also checked off. Clearly, these were two extremely joyful events—so why, when placed in front of him at this moment, did Fisher feel absolutely no joy at all?

Simply because, at this time, Rafael and Moli—who had been standing off to the side, already looking quite sour as they coldly watched everything—were also taking a direct heavy hit. They watched, eyes wide, as this dubious "official wife" threw herself into Fisher’s arms, crying and pounding on his chest as if venting all the grievance accumulated from being separated from her husband for many years.

Rafael’s eyes instantly turned red, and she almost spewed forth world-incinerating Flames like a real giant dragon as she demanded of Fisher,

"Didn’t you say you didn’t know her? Ingrid... Ingrid, heh, isn’t that a name you call quite fluently?!"

Moli’s hair turned completely black; she pressed her lips together, staring bloodthirstily at Ingrid nestled in Fisher’s arms, and muttered in a low voice,

"As expected... she really is a Fake Court spy... spies are born to be killed..."

Faced with the wrath of the two, Ingrid grew even more frightened; she only dared to cling tightly to Fisher in front of her, sobbing as she said,

"Hubby, don’t run away from home again, okay, please? I’ve already brought all the money from home with me—wherever you go from now on, I’ll go, all right? Hubby... sob, don’t abandon me again, I beg you..."

Even a battle-hardened gentleman like Fisher couldn’t help but see black at the edges of his vision in the face of such a situation.

He had to know: before he returned from the Holy Land to the current time, he had already made what he thought was incredibly thorough preparation, both mentally and in practical terms.

Perhaps back then, when he was about to enter the Mythical Rank, he already harbored such considerations; that was why he risked being corroded by Chaos to step into the Mythical Rank—to be able to handle all kinds of situations that might arise in the future.

He had indeed advanced to the Mythical Rank, but why were the circumstances now so utterly beyond his expectations, to the point of being completely unreasonable?

He couldn’t help but ask himself this...

"Whoo, whoo, whoo!"

Outside the tent, in the hottest early afternoon of the day, fierce winds roared between heaven and earth, racing gleefully across the shore and the Ocean, whipping up rows of banners and producing a nearly deafening sound...

Yes, today the Red Dragon Court was indeed a bit...

especially lively.