After the battle of Dendram, John did not rush to continue his conquests but instead handed the tasks over to Brethon and Rolf. These two were quite eager now, and John was happy to play the role of the hands-off manager.
Upon returning to Dublin, John realized that early summer had quietly arrived without him noticing.
For the past several months, John seemed to have been constantly on the move, never stopping anywhere to rest properly. This all started with the Earl of Gloucester's gold explosion.
Although John had adapted to medieval life, he was, at heart, still a modern man.
Having nothing to do left him feeling a bit at a loss.
Looking around, John saw that he was surrounded by merchants and soldiers, which made him feel irritable. These people were, at best, a bunch of tools and not suitable for leisure.
If he really wanted to have some fun...
John turned his gaze towards the red-light district in Dublin.
As a large city established by Vikings, Dublin had a very developed slave trade industry. This led to the flourishing of many related industries within the city.
In Dublin, there were also many taverns and bathhouses established by Vikings, completely different in style from those in Western Europe.
If he walked in openly, it would likely turn into a reception in no time. That was the last thing John wanted right now.
So, John prepared some equipment to sneak out and have some fun.
After a day of doing nothing, as night fell, John dismissed all his servants. When it was quiet outside, he sneaked out alone.
Medieval cities had curfews, but John was not worried.
He had prepared a torch, a crest, and a travel pass. With these, the guards on the streets did not stop him at all.
When he reached the predetermined location, John put down his torch and, under the guidance of a servant hiding in the shadows, entered the grand building.
Here, he found the most luxurious bathhouse in all of Dublin and wines that could not be found elsewhere.
"Where are you from, sir?" The servant's sharp voice made John slightly uncomfortable.
He took out a penny and handed it to the servant. "I'm from Gloucester, John of Westbury."
Hearing that John was from Gloucester and seeing his generous manner, the servant realized this must be one of the Norman knights who had just returned from Dendram.
Upon realizing John's identity, the servant's attitude instantly became respectful. These military men now had money, swords, and could walk with impunity anywhere in Dublin. Serving them well could earn a lot of money, but poor service could easily result in death.
As the servant led John, he chatted, "Sir, you must be a knight. We have a special place reserved for you. Please take off your clothes and you can enter."
With that, the servant brought John to a row of lockers.
John glanced around and, with the servant's help, took off all his clothes.
After undressing and grabbing a towel, John prepared to head directly to the bathhouse. Before he entered, the servant handed him a small wooden tag to tie around his wrist.
"What is this?" John asked, turning his wrist to inspect the tag.
The servant explained carefully, "This is for keeping track of expenses, sir. The services you enjoy will be recorded on it, making it easier to settle the bill when you leave."
Impressed by the ancient ingenuity, John walked into the bathhouse.
Behind a winding corridor lay a large, bustling bathhouse.
Unlike the wooden tub baths of Western Europe, this one featured large stone pools filled with hot water, where men and women alike lounged in relaxation.
From the crowd, John could see that most people had blonde hair, likely Norman knights.
John walked to the edge of the pool, chose a quiet spot, placed his towel on the poolside, and sat down. The moment the hot water enveloped him, he let out a deep sigh, releasing all the fatigue accumulated over the past days.
He hadn't been soaking for long when the person next to him, who was with a woman, left the pool. They walked to the side and disappeared into a dim corridor.
Behind that corridor, there were probably private rooms for intimate encounters.
"Sir, would you like a drink?" A woman suddenly appeared beside John, completely naked, catching him off guard.
Quickly recovering, John replied, "Of course. What kind of drinks do you have here?"
The woman skillfully sat beside John, her hands moving over him as she continued to speak, "We have beer, mead, spirits, and wine from France."
Without hesitation, John replied, "Wine."
Wine was the most expensive drink available, and the woman was surprised at John's lavish choice, but she went to fetch the wine nonetheless. She returned and continued to drape herself over him, her hands roaming.
John paid little attention to her, instead sipping his wine and observing his surroundings.
The bathhouse had a passage leading downstairs, likely where the owner or special guests resided. There was also a small door through which the servants constantly came and went.
In the bathhouse, a few gamblers were loudly engaged in some game, while more men roamed around, seeking companionship.
"This place is quite wealthy," John remarked.
Whether it was the alcohol or the woman's provocations, John started to feel a bit dizzy.
As John pondered his next move, a woman emerged from the small door used by the servants.
John was stunned.
The woman wore a thin, black gauze, revealing her voluptuous chest and shapely hips, accentuating her perfect curves. Her black curls cascaded down, framing her alluring neck, and her seductive demeanor captivated John's attention entirely.
At that moment, John had only one thought.
He wanted this woman.
The woman's beauty was mesmerizing, but it was her sultry presence that truly ensnared John's senses. He felt as if he could smell her pheromones even from a distance.
"I want that woman," John said, pointing at her. "How much will it cost to have her?"
John's request irritated the woman beside him, but maintaining her professional demeanor, she replied, "She is reserved for vip guests."
**VIP?**
John became curious.
"What kind of VIP?" John continued, "No one here has more money than I do. I don't care who he is; today, I want this woman."
With that, John stood up from the pool, draped the towel over his shoulder, and walked toward the woman.
When John reached her, he grabbed her arm.
"Ah, sir."
Her voice was like a lazy, seductive fox waking up.
"What are you doing?"
Doing what? John stared directly into her face. "What's your name?"
She covered her mouth with a hand and laughed. "My name is Elina, sir. I'm on my way to serve some important guests. Could you please let go of my arm?"
Important guests...
The alcohol had clouded John's judgment. What important guests could there be here? He felt both curious and annoyed.
"How much do you want? Half a pound, a pound, I can pay it." John's grip tightened. "I have plenty of money; no one in all of Dublin has more money than me."
Listening to John's words, a flicker of disgust crossed Elina's face.
Drunken braggarts were common here, spouting nonsense. This man might be wealthy, but he couldn't compare to that gentleman.
Elina decided to test him. "Sir, if you tell me your name, I'll tell you who's waiting for me."
"John, John of Westbury."
The name made Elina's expression freeze. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled her arm free.
"That gentleman waiting for me is from your homeland. You should know him," Elina said. "He's also from England, a knight from Westbury..."
John, growing impatient, said, "You must come with me today. I don't care who he is!"
"She must go with you?"
From the passage leading downstairs, a man slowly emerged. Behind him were three others, their hair and faces unmistakably marking them as Norman knights from England.
The man at the front surprised John.
Red-nosed Hugo.
For some reason, Hugo didn't seem to recognize John. It could have been due to the steam or because he didn't expect John to be there.
"I've been a VIP here for so long and have never seen anyone cause such trouble," Hugo said, exuding authority. "Elina, come here."
Elina quickly ran to Hugo's side, clinging to him with a faux terrified expression. Hugo, buying into her act, puffed out his chest, radiating machismo.
John and Hugo squared off, the distance between them closing. Physically, Hugo was slightly taller than John, but both were equally solidly built.
As they got closer, Hugo began to sense something familiar about John but couldn't place it.
Until John spoke: "Hugo, don't you recognize me?"
Hearing this voice, red-nosed Hugo's legs went weak. Elina looked up in surprise, not understanding Hugo's sudden reaction.
"I am John of Westbury, from the Meron family. You'd better not get it wrong."
John invoked the Earl of Gloucester's name, clearly not wanting to reveal his identity.
Though initially shocked, Hugo quickly regained his composure and, with a nervous smile, said, "Ah, it's the young master of the Meron family. I apologize for the offense earlier."
The sudden turn of events made everyone present feel like they had just witnessed a major revelation.
The young master of the Meron family... everyone's minds were racing. Hugo was already intimidating enough to them, but what kind of person could make Hugo speak like that?
Elina was the most frightened. She had thought Hugo could protect her, but now it seemed he couldn't.
She was doomed.
That was the only thought left in her mind.