Ines turned, watching Adele's figure vanish into the darkness, and wiped the sweat from her brow. A sudden unease prickled at her.
Did that girl... really not notice anything?
Well... probably not. If she had, she definitely would've reported me to the alliance higher-ups, or at least to her mother, Willo.
And with a matriarch as soft-hearted as Willo, if she'd caught on, she would've shown it by now, or at the very least, there would've been some movement from the alliance council.
Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
Trying to settle her nerves, Ines slipped quietly to a corner of the camp, set up a small altar, and began sending messages to each of her masters—a different report for each.
Deep in the mountains, Montport held his monstrous twin-bladed polearm, its aura now fiercer than ever, and let out a guttural, satisfied laugh.
Moments later, after receiving Ines's message, he licked his lips, crimson eyes shimmering with savage intent.
Excellent. If I can drink the blood of another near-legendary, the twin-bladed polearm will likely ascend into a true artifact...
Meanwhile, at the ruins of Rockseeker's Outpost.
The once bustling little town had become a field of ashes. After the invaders had looted every last belonging, they torched whatever was left, reducing the place to blackened rubble.
Just like what happened to Rubble District before.
A town with a century of history, utterly destroyed in a single day. The earthquake's aftershocks left nothing but toppled stone, with fractured walls and scorched destruction in every direction.
A rotting stench hung in the air, softened only by the chill of winter. In summer, with mingled odors and decay, it would be almost unbearable.
Few would willingly visit such a cursed ruin. Yet tonight, Charles, Anno, Theresa, Ekta, and Nidalee waited together, huddled behind a fallen wall for shelter.
By now, the moon had drifted westward in the sky and the frigid wind cut to the bone; everyone was uncomfortable.
Charles didn't want to linger here a moment longer than he had to. For at least the third time, he pulled out his pocket watch and scowled.
The contact was already half an hour late.
Tonight was the long-awaited meeting with Daevyl's informant. The location—Rockseeker's Outpost, a place steeped in the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers' sins.
Charles had chosen the site himself, hoping to leverage every advantage for the negotiations. What surprised him was how easily the other party agreed, not even attempting to change the location.
At first, Charles assumed this meant she was one of the alliance's pacifist types—like Willo—who didn't mind the symbolism at all.
He actually relaxed, thinking the negotiation might go smoothly. But now...
Was this person a dove, or just someone who stood up contacts?
Or, did something go wrong on her end?
Or worse, had Daevyl just played him?
Charles's expression darkened; none of the options boded well.
Let's just hope it's not the worst-case scenario...
He was still stewing when a gust of wind rolled over the ruins. Charles looked up—just in time to see a willowy, flat-chested silhouette in a dark cloak seemingly carried ahead on the breeze, sprinting straight toward them. "The weather in Port is always so gray; you never see the sun."
Charles answered at once, "But there's always a rainbow after the rain to lift your spirits."
It was their pre-arranged code words—confirmation of identity. No doubt, this was the informant they'd waited for.
The newcomer exhaled in relief, then introduced herself. "Adele Green Vines, just an ordinary druid from the Green Vines tribe. Are you the people Mr. Daevyl mentioned?"
"Yes," said Charles. "Nigel Charles. This is Anno Amcastra, the paladin you requested."
Anno nodded to her with an encouraging smile. She didn't feel any hostility toward this satyr—any girl around her age who would meet strangers alone in the ruins at midnight had already proven her guts.
Charles looked Adele up and down with a harder edge. "You're late, Miss Adele."
For a first meeting, it was a terrible start.
The young satyr woman untied her cloak, revealing delicate features framed by pale pink hair. She met Charles's censure with an even stare. "Someone had already grown suspicious. She's been following my every move, and it took a lot to shake her off before I could get here."
"I apologize for the delay, but it was necessary for everyone's safety."
As she spoke, her sharp eyes swept quickly over the group, sizing up their classes.
Charles was a tricky one to read, but Anno was obviously a paladin, and the three behind them—one was a druid, the other two were arcane spellcasters...
Her gaze flicked from one woman's face to the next before settling on Charles.
A good-looking man, surrounded by an entire team of beautiful women...
Judging by posture, body language, and the subtle tension in the air...
She'd spent plenty of time watching Ines—spying on her day-to-day moves and how she mixed with Highmountain minotaurs—looking for any evidence of treachery. By now, she could smell out a clandestine relationship just by watching people's spacing and the hush of a glance across the fire.
She trusted her gut: this guy had a close and probably very intimate relationship with every woman on his team.
So he's a womanizer—and, odds are, a noble from Liberl Port.
With this theory forming fast, Adele found her first impression of Charles wasn't great.
Can this man actually be relied on?
Charles, unaware of her thoughts, cut straight to business. "The demon spy, she's able to keep such direct tabs on your movements and block you from leaving your tribe? You're saying she's one of your high-ranking leaders?"
Adele shook her head. "Not family, not even a satyr. She's a minotaur. Her name is Ines."
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