Chapter 306
The demoness kept talking, her sweet tone laced with a faint arrogance, unaware of the subtle calculations turning behind Oliver's still expression.
She explained the city's customs, the curfews, the trade routes, even the grand festivals held in honor of their newly promoted lord. Most of it was surface-level information—the kind shared by those who liked to hear themselves talk—but it was enough.
Enough for Oliver to begin mapping the city's veins, tracing the invisible hierarchy present in the city.
When she finally stopped to sip her drink, her eyes flicked toward him. "Well, that's enough about me. What kind of mercenaries are you?"
Oliver's gaze shifted briefly toward Agnes, who sat quietly beside him, her hands folded neatly, her eyes half-lidded and unreadable. Then he turned back, his voice steady. "We take on requests from clients."
"Requests? Of what kind?" she asked curiously.
