Adele, naturally, missed the subtext behind Theresa's words, although her instincts told her there was something strange going on.
But since she had never witnessed the kind of deep and intimate interaction Ines shared with the other female minotaurs, her own narrow experience left her unable to imagine what might have happened between Theresa and her mother.
She chose to brush it off, chalking it up to cultural differences between Liberl Port folk and her own. With that, she spoke openly: "Since everyone here was my mother's companion in battle, there's no reason for us to be so guarded."
"I'll prepare a safehouse for everyone. When the time comes, please help me confirm Ines's true identity—and take her out."
Charles stared at her. "Does your mother know any of this?"
Adele shook her head. "She doesn't."
"You didn't tell her?"
"I told you, I don't have any evidence." She lowered her gaze. "And since you're friends with my mother, you should know her well. She's soft-hearted, always looking inward, willing to compromise herself for the greater good rather than cast suspicion or blame on an ally."
Behind Adele, Theresa gave a subtle nod, filing away that trait—"Willo would rather compromise herself for a larger goal"—as a mental note, a half-dozen different plans beginning to spin in her mind.
Up front, Adele remained oblivious, tracing a fingertip across the broken ground. "Take this place, for example. This time, as one of the five major leaders of the alliance—one of its true founders—she should have had the most authority."
"But when she was trapped underground and couldn't return, the alliance went ahead and made the decision to go to war behind her back."
"That was a huge sign of disrespect. But after the fact, rather than take offense, she stayed in the alliance and followed the collective will—because destroying the demons mattered more."
As she spoke, Adele quietly excused her mother's actions, aiming for the group's sympathy.
It worked. Something twinged in Charles's heart, and images flashed through his mind of Willo—her frail shoulders taking on every burden alone.
He suddenly felt an unexpected urge to protect her, to ensure she'd never have to face things alone again.
At the same time, he threw a side-eye at Nidalee, thinking, Your dad really isn't a good man—pushing around a decent widow and stealing her authority.
Nidalee only looked up at the sky, pretending not to see anything.
Theresa and Ekta didn't seem to care. Theresa had long since mentally penciled Willo in as Charles's future mate, and Ekta had no clue who she was to begin with.
As for Anno, after listening to this, she, too, felt moved—just like Charles.
She sighed lightly. "We're not blaming her. I doubt she ever agreed to launch the attack."
"If you think this arrangement is best, then so be it. How do we sneak into your tribe?"
Charles glanced at Anno out the corner of his eye, and she pinched him, signaling him to just agree.
So, he nodded. "It works."
Adele finally breathed easier. Having reliable people agree to come to her home territory simplified everything.
"Tonight's impossible," she said. "I'll give everyone a map. Tomorrow, during the day, head to the safehouse. Tomorrow night, I'll come and guide you—secretly—into the tribe. How does that sound?"
Charles nodded. "Fair enough."
Adele handed him a rough map she'd already prepared, carefully marking the landmarks before turning to leave.
Once she was gone, Charles looked at Anno in puzzlement. "How'd you agree to all this so easily? I actually had a backup plan."
Like, have Adele describe the mole's traits so Ruth—their stealthiest ally—could sneak in herself and deal with it.
Ruth's strength wasn't quite at the very top, but after several levels of Purification at the monastery, she'd gotten powerful upgrades.
What's more, her combat style was all about ambushes and killing blows—maybe not great for the front lines, but perfect for this kind of job.
Anno took a deep breath, looking a bit anxious too. "Honestly, I only decided after learning her mother was Willo. I'm not sure it's entirely solid, but it's an opportunity—so I went with it."
Charles looked even more confused. "What do you mean?"
"I want to meet Willo," Anno said. "If Adele's telling the truth, her mother is both one of the five major leaders and the group's actual founder. She might be soft—but she's probably still influential."
"And... I want to talk to her. She clearly sees the demon threat as paramount. So maybe we can form a second alliance."
She bit her lip, thinking aloud. "The gold dragonborn's team already failed. Demons are still running loose. I imagine the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers is even more desperate than us to make something work, to face the demons together."
Charles's expression grew a little complicated.
"You..." His lips fumbled. "You don't hate them anymore?"
Anno turned away. "Let's kill Montport first."
Charles drew her suddenly into a fierce hug.
Anno gasped, glancing at Theresa and the others—who were all, with some amusement, watching them—and went red to her ears. "What are you doing? Let go!"
Charles buried his face in her hair, whispering, "It's okay. They'll cooperate."
"I promise you, Anno, the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers will work with Blackstaff Tower."
Warmth blossomed in her chest, and she felt like she might melt into him. But then she remembered everyone watching, and embarrassment seized her heart. "Enough—let me go already!"
Theresa had been about to chime in—"I think we should meet Willo too"—but seeing the couple cuddling, she swallowed her words.
As long as her master had decided, she didn't need to vote.
...
Liberl Port, Mithral District—among the mansions of the nobility, inside a castle that seemed nothing out of the ordinary.
This was the Cassalanter family estate. They were the ones who'd bargained with devils up top, used Xanathar's Guild muscle down below, and tasked Kendrz with smuggling in the Illusionist's Bracers—devil's advocates, each one.
Thanks to Daevyl's interference, the smuggling ended in spectacular failure. Worse, due to Charles's meddling, every crime in the South Harbor District—murder, monsters, cults, and every other unsavory business—got pinned on Kendrz's head.
The Cassalanter family was hardly spared. The local courts didn't matter, but they had enemies—and opponents used those legal setbacks to make every small mistake seem explosive.
In the end, it cost them dearly just to keep the family afloat.
Now, the Cassalanter name, their position, and their wealth were all at rock bottom in Liberl Port.
If they wanted to survive here, they'd need a dazzling comeback.
Or else, flee the city...
Deep in the keep, in a hidden chamber, the current head of the Cassalanter family, Ammalia Cassalanter, was meeting a secret guest.
To the world, the master of the family was Victoro Cassalanter, her husband. But truthfully, that timid man was nothing more than a puppet—he controlled nothing.
It was Ammalia—her secret deal with a devil, her tiefling children born with innate magic, her command over the power of fiends—who was the real master.
Currently, this portly woman—decked out in rich robes, caked in makeup, dripping with jewels and accustomed to commanding a room—stood anxiously before a hooded figure, her tone wary and deferential. "My lord, do you think I still have a chance?"
Proud and arrogant, yes—but never a fool, Ammalia knew exactly who in this world she could afford to offend, and who she absolutely could not.
And this shadowy figure was none other than that infamous cambion, Mephistopheles's sly apostle—Regolas!
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