For the thirtieth birthday banquet of the Duke of Southville's son, every notable noble in the surrounding area arrived carrying carefully selected and valuable gifts.
In the study on the third floor, the Duke's bloated body leaned slightly against a brown sofa that was clearly close to collapsing under his weight.
He opened his eyes, almost covered by his drooping eyelids, swept his gaze over the two people standing opposite him, and said in a deep voice, "This time, I don't want any more accidents!"
"Your Grace, please rest assured. This time, we specially invited a powerful Beyonder. He will definitely be able to complete your task."
The two people opposite him hurriedly explained, cold sweat already forming on their foreheads.
"Hmph. If you disappoint me again, the two of you can jump into the sea and feed the sharks yourselves. Of course, you can also wait for someone to chop you into pieces and scatter you evenly across the surface of the sea."
The Duke snorted coldly. Thinking about how every little move he made in secret was effortlessly neutralized by that Earl Hastur Campbell, he was so furious he could almost eat someone alive.
Those eight ports were eight mountains of gold. They had originally belonged to him, yet now they had become someone else's private property.
The people he secretly sent out either mysteriously fell ill and ended up hospitalized, or suddenly went insane and jumped into the sea to commit suicide.
Even the hidden agents who successfully established themselves there always sent back insignificant information, with nothing that could be put to use.
Then there was the pair of sisters he had sent over at the very beginning. They had remained in the castle the entire time, and even sending a single message back was extremely difficult. Meanwhile, that young earl had spent all this time staying in Puning Harbor.
From the moment those two were sent there until now, the role they had played was basically zero.
Recently, the kingdom had declared full-scale war against the Feysac Empire. This meant that the Southern Continent would temporarily not be a threat. Otherwise, the king would never have launched such a large-scale war.
He could use today's opportunity to deal with this earl from Backlund.
After the two people left the room, the Duke glanced toward the bookshelf in the corner.
"You follow the person they brought. Take the Sealed Artifact my father sent from Backlund and make sure tonight's operation is foolproof."
When he said the word "father," the corner of his mouth unconsciously curled into a faint sneer.
After giving these instructions, the Duke leaned against the sofa and closed his eyes for a while. It was not until the butler outside reported that the banquet had begun that he opened his eyes, pushed himself upright with the sofa, and left the room.
The moment he stepped outside, a cordial smile appeared on his face, and he exchanged greetings with every guest he encountered.
Today was his son's birthday banquet, so he did not actually need to spend too much effort socializing.
When he went downstairs and spotted the young earl who was clearly different from the older nobles around him, he had someone bring over two glasses of wine and walked in that direction.
"Earl Campbell, your arrival has added even more brilliance to tonight's banquet." The Duke of Southville face was covered in smiles as he casually took a glass of wine from the tray of a nearby servant. "I heard you've been suffering from acclimatization issues ever since returning from Backlund. How is your recovery?"
"Thank you for your concern, Your Grace. I'm much better now. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to attend tonight's banquet."
Hastur smiled and lightly clinked the glass in his hand against the Duke.
The two stood there exchanging pleasantries for a while, drawing the attention of many nobles.
At this moment, the Duke looked around at the nobles watching them and enthusiastically introduced, "Everyone, some of you may not yet know this outstanding young gentleman beside me. He is Earl Hastur Campbell. It was he who helped our Southville County resolve the threat of pirates along the coast. Aren't you all going to offer him a toast?"
Because of the Duke's introduction, Hastur ended up drinking more than a dozen glasses of wine. By the time the banquet ended, he was already completely drunk.
The Duke quickly had someone support Hastur back to the room that had long since been prepared for him to rest.
Lying on the bed, Hastur lifted a corner of the blanket and looked at the pitch-black room before sighing.
Seriously, couldn't this Duke of Southville come up with something new? Always using such clumsy methods made it difficult for Hastur to cooperate properly.
He even had to deliberately pretend to be drunk to give them an opportunity to act. He wondered what kind of person the duke would send to plot against him this time.
Probably some Beyonder who considered themselves powerful.
Hastur was not particularly worried. He had transferred four members of the Yellow-robed Monks here, two of whom were Sequence 4 demigods.
Caius's previous lack of confidence had indeed been justified. Ever since Hastur descended upon the Yellow-robed Monks organization, some Beyonders who had been stuck at Sequence 5 for many years seemed to have received some kind of blessing of good luck and unexpectedly succeeded in advancing one after another.
Besides Madam Lisa advancing to Sequence 2, there was also one member who advanced from Sequence 4 to Sequence 3.
In the eyes of Madam Lisa and the other members of the Yellow-robed Monks, this was a blessing bestowed by their deity.
After thinking for a while, Hastur pulled the blanket back over himself, crossed his hands behind his head, and waited for tonight's hunters.
It was around two in the morning. Hastur had almost genuinely fallen asleep when something unusual finally began happening in the room.
A shadow flowed in through the gap in the window like a pool of black liquid, gathered in the corner, and then once again returned to a human form.
A shadow-related Beyonder ability. Had the Duke really invited an assassin?
Lying on the bed, Hastur watched the scene before him. Just as the assassin was about to move, he shouted first, "Disorder!"
The figure simply stood there blankly, seemingly completely unable to move. Hastur lifted the blanket and got out of bed, then shouted again in a deep voice, "Corruption!"
Black corruptive aura began rising from the ground, spreading upward from beneath the figure's feet.
At that moment, the black figure who should have been unable to move due to Disorder suddenly lunged forward like an agile cat. The dagger in her right hand gleamed in the darkness with a sharpness capable of slicing through a throat.
She was extremely fast.
Clearly, she had never been affected by Disorder in the first place. She had deliberately pretended otherwise so Hastur would lower his guard, allowing her to kill him in a single strike.
Without any panic, Hastur calmly uttered two words.
"Confinement."
Two chains of stars shot out from his body. Before the person could react, they tightly bound her. She fell heavily from midair onto the ground, knocking over a chair beside the tea table and producing a crisp sound of splintering wood.
Only after resolving the trouble did Hastur have time to think about what had just happened.
A normal person could not possibly remain unaffected by Disorder.
So she was not a person. She was a puppet, or more accurately, a marionette.
Tonight, there was a Marionettist hiding somewhere in the dark!
The Duke of Southville really had gone all out. He had actually invited a Marionettist.
And this Marionettist was quite cautious, first using his marionette to scout the way while he himself remained hidden in the shadows.
This was a very standard Marionettist combat method. Come to think of it, just knowing how to do this already made him far better than Master Rosago.
Hastur was not deliberately insulting Rosago. He was only speaking the truth.
After another short while, the person bound by the chains of stars suddenly stopped struggling. Her eyes became hollow, as if she had lost her soul.
Hastur guessed that the Marionettist hiding in the shadows had probably been captured.
A Marionettist could control marionettes through their Spirit Body Threads, but there was a distance limit.
That point alone was enough for the members of the Yellow-robed Monks to easily locate his hiding place.
Hastur turned his attention back to the marionette before him. She was actually a Sequence 6 Witch of Pleasure.
Turning a Witch of Pleasure into a marionette, this Marionettist really was impressive.
But if such a Witch of Pleasure marionette was being used for assassination, was there really any need for her to sneak in so furtively through the gap in the window?
Shouldn't she have openly entered his room disguised as a maid?
Then, while he was being seduced by the Witch of Pleasure's charm, she could seize the opportunity to assassinate him. Wouldn't the success rate be much higher that way?
Could this possibly be another Master Rosago? Maybe the two of them really were a pair of equally brilliant fools.
While Hastur was thinking, someone knocked on the door.
Hastur said, "Come in."
One of the Yellow-robed Monks stationed outside entered, bringing with him a person and a severed head that was still giving off heat.
There were two assassins tonight? Hastur had someone light the lamps in the room, then looked toward the captured middle-aged man.
He appeared to be in his early forties, with scruffy facial hair. He was actually somewhat handsome and had probably charmed quite a few young women in his youth.
While Hastur was observing him, the man's gaze remained fixed on the Witch of Pleasure marionette tied up on the floor.
After confirming that she had not been damaged, he visibly breathed a sigh of relief. Then disgust and disdain appeared in his eyes.
What a complicated expression. Hastur's intuition told him that something interesting must have happened between this Marionettist and the Witch of Pleasure.
Hastur sat on the edge of the bed and looked toward the severed head held by one of the Yellow-robed Monks.
"Was this also one of tonight's assassins?"
"Yes. Our people personally saw him leave the Duke's study. He also came nearby tonight, but before he had the chance to act, we struck first and took him down."
"He was a Sequence 4 Earl of the Fallen. During the fight, we were unable to capture him alive, so we could only cut off his head and bring back his Beyonder characteristic together with the Sealed Artifact he carried. That was why we were delayed slightly."
"It was a mistake in our work that allowed a marionette to approach your room. Please punish us."
The member of the Yellow-robed Monks explained earnestly and anxiously.
"…" Hastur had thought they had deliberately let a marionette enter so he could get some practice.
So it had actually been a work mistake. A Sequence 4 Demigod had died here just like that.
Wasn't his luck getting a little too absurd? But thinking carefully, there were four Winners of the Fate pathway standing in this room. Including himself, that made five favored by destiny.
With luck this high, it really was possible for something as convenient as having a pillow delivered when one was sleepy to happen.
All he could say was: thank you to the Duke of Southville for the birthday gift.