When the moon reached its highest point, the notorious investor Antonio was drenched in cold sweat, walking stiffly toward a hidden underground facility.
The underground facility connected to the sewers of Deya City, guarded by soldiers no lower than Second Tier, heavily secured.
Led by an attendant, Antonio met with eight other trembling nobles inside a safehouse.
Originally, this place was meant for meeting sensitive figures who couldn’t be seen in public, but now it was their turn to hide from the light.
They should have been attending lavish parties full of confidence, making crucial decisions affecting the realm, but now they could only huddle in this pitch-dark underground shelter.
“Lady Mirac is dead too, just like Lyman and the others — all of them had their hearts crushed directly.”
Antonio dragged out a chair and sat down, resting for a while before bringing more grim news to the group.
According to their information network, this was already the twelfth noble to be assassinated tonight.
“This is downright insane…”
Someone shook their head, muttering. The upper class had never encountered such a wave of assassinations before. Who could they have possibly angered?
The Saintess? That shouldn’t be. They only provoked a little, nothing major. Besides, priests were a non-aggressive profession.
At worst, they could just go to the Church of the Goddess of Life afterward to confess.
“What do we do now? That assassin’s gone mad. Although this place is hidden, hiding here forever isn’t a solution.”
Antonio asked the crowd. Lars, the tax officer responsible for West Street, immediately spoke up:
“Why don’t we try seeking the protection of the Goddess herself, or perhaps the Demon Hunter Squad? That assassin must be at least Fifth Rank, no one in Deya City could stop him otherwise.”
“Protection from the Goddess or the Demon Hunters? Ha!” someone laughed loudly before replying,
“Do you even remember the last time you knelt before the Goddess? Why would she protect us little pawns who don’t even respect her?”
“As for the Demon Hunters, forget it! Have you already forgotten how we rudely refused to let them station in Deya City, forcing them to go to Southwatch Fort instead?”
Compared to Southwatch Fort, Deya City’s environment and location were superior, so the Demon Hunters had initially planned to be stationed here, only to be kicked out by the nobles with various excuses.
After all, such a powerful army would greatly diminish the nobles’ influence, which would impact their business — and that was unacceptable.
“Then what do you suggest we do now?!” Lars retorted, trying to suppress his anger.
“Well… there might be one feasible option. How about asking the Saintess for help? Even if we have conflicts, as the Saintess, she wouldn’t just stand by and watch.”
Antonio considered appealing to the Saintess. Although they had openly challenged her authority in meetings, the merciful Saintess surely wouldn’t fuss over such trivial matters, right?
“Haha, maybe this assassin was sent by the Saintess herself because she’s displeased with us,” someone joked, prompting laughter from the others and slightly easing the tense atmosphere of the underground facility.
“If it’s the Saintess, she’d probably send that Fire Dragon to deal with us,” Antonio chuckled.
They would rather believe it was a poor person they had bullied seeking revenge after years of silence than accept the idea of the Church or the Saintess sending an assassin.
And as for the Fire Dragon, that was even more unthinkable.
Would the Saintess’s Fire Dragon dare attack the Goddess’s own followers openly? That would cause massive faith to collapse!
So from the moment they offended the Ninth Saintess, they never even considered the threat of the Fire Dragon.
And in fact, that was true — no one had come to take revenge or sent assassins on behalf of the Saintess.
The Saintess herself was the one taking action…
“Stop! Who are you… Hm? Saint—”
“Pft!”
Suddenly, outside the small house where Antonio and the others were hiding, the voice of a guard was heard.
Everyone immediately focused on the noises outside:
“Who’s there? Who’s out there?!”
“Pft!”
“Ah! Enemy attack! Enem—ugh!”
“Crack!”…
One by one, the guards fell. Their panicked screams grew closer and closer to the safehouse, sending Antonio and the others’ hearts straight to their throats.
The assassin was here?!
Chaos erupted instantly. They needed to run — but where to? The safehouse only had one exit, and stepping out meant running right into the assassin!
Right, hiding! They had to hide quickly!
They exchanged looks and decided to stay put and hide. They extinguished all the candles, plunging the room into darkness, then scrambled for suitable hiding spots.
Some hid in storage cabinets in the corners, others crawled into empty wine barrels nearby, and a few even fought over the narrow ventilation shafts!
Until a piercing sound echoed throughout the safehouse, forcing the nobles to hold their breath and stop trembling.
Most of them hid under the table — an obvious place, but the only option in the safehouse.
“Ssssss!”
Like nails scraping on a blackboard, in the darkness, a slender claw suddenly pierced through the locked iron door.
The claw then bent slightly and skillfully unlatch the door’s lock.
The thick iron door, custom-made at great cost and said to withstand attacks from Fourth Tier opponents, was broken open just like that!
A cold light slowly extended into the room as the door opened, nearly illuminating the toe of a noble hiding beneath the table, who hurriedly shrank back, making the cramped space even more crowded.
Then, a long, stretched shadow appeared at the doorway, accompanied by a strong smell of rust and the sound of some liquid dripping onto the floor.
The assassin’s low, hoarse, yet unmistakably girlish voice rang out mockingly:
That voice?!
Antonio trembled as he hid with Lars in the storage cabinet. Was it a hallucination? It sounded like the Ninth Saintess’s voice.
At that moment, Lars, also recognizing the voice, gently tugged on Antonio’s sleeve and signaled him to peer through a small hole in front of them to see what was happening outside — was the Saintess here to save them?
But Antonio didn’t dare.
“You have a hole right in front of you, why don’t you look yourself?!”
Antonio ignored Lars’s suggestion. Lars had no choice but to try himself.
But just as he pressed his left eye to the hole, suddenly, a blood-stained claw shot straight inside, piercing Lars’s eye!
More claws followed, wrapping around Lars’s entire face before quickly closing.
He didn’t even have a chance to scream in pain before his head was torn apart.
Red and white chunks of flesh splattered all over the storage cabinet!
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