A little earlier, at the duke’s mansion.
The old butler served tea to the two in the reception room. Gro unceremoniously took the teacup, savoring the steaming fresh tea, showing no restraint in front of the duke.
“Aressto’s tea is really good, much better than the taste over in Aurean.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
Gro’s peripheral vision kept glancing at the duke sitting opposite him with a serious expression. Seeing that he had no intention of responding, Gro reluctantly set down the teacup, straightened his posture, and took the initiative to speak:
“Then let’s cut to the chase, Mr. Lokas—what new troubles have you brought me this time?”
Gro said helplessly. He was no longer as energetic as in his youth; just exchanging a few moves with Ileil earlier had made the unhealed wound on his abdomen start to ache faintly again. If he hadn’t left a command spell on Ileil in advance, by the time Lokas arrived, he might only see a cold corpse.
Gro couldn’t help but recall the day he tacitly allowed Ileil to follow him. Back then, Gro thought he still possessed his peak strength, both physically and mentally. He fully believed he could handle Ileil while working for another decade or so with ease—who knew that after only eight years, he was starting to feel overwhelmed.
“You’ve worked hard, Mr. Gro.” The duke seemed to read Gro’s mood, showing a trace of apology on his face. “It was my lack of consideration that put you in that previous crisis.”
“Skip the pleasantries, Mr. Lokas.” Gro shrugged, putting on a magnanimous attitude. “We’ve cooperated pleasantly; no need to dwell on the accident I encountered. If you’re really concerned about me, who’s got one foot in the grave, I wouldn’t mind if you increased the reward for the next collaboration.”
“I’m not forcing you to work for me, Mr. Gro.” Lokas gazed at Gro’s slightly weary deep blue eyes and continued:
“With your years of hard work, you could completely enjoy a peaceful retirement in Aurean.”
“So what? In the end… I’ve just accumulated some wealth and connections. To truly sleep without worries, I’m probably still far from it, right?”
At this point, Gro’s gaze involuntarily shifted to the short sword in his sheath—the very weapon that had blocked Ileil’s fatal strike earlier.
“I crawled out of the war alive, but how many like me rushed to their deaths on the battlefield one after another? Yet even in death, those guys would believe their souls would return to the Valkyrie’s embrace, even if it’s just pretty words to lure people into filling the lines.” Gro smiled bitterly, casting a helpless look at Lokas:
“So sometimes, I really envy your birth, Mr. Lokas.”
Faced with Gro’s rare display of genuine emotion, Lokas didn’t want to continue the conversation along those lines. Lokas sighed and brought the topic back to the point:
“The matter I need to trouble you with this time should be much easier compared to previous jobs.”
“Easier? You said the same last time.” Gro couldn’t help but sigh; in this young duke’s eyes, there seemed to be no difficult tasks.
“I promise you.” Lokas said seriously. “You just need to continue assisting the Aressto church people in clearing out the evil god cultists, and also provide aid to the princess participating in this operation.”
Gro wanted to take another sip of the hot tea at hand, but after hearing Lokas’s words, the tea he brought to his mouth almost sprayed out:
“Wait… which princess exactly?”
An ominous premonition surged in his heart, and he saw Lokas explain earnestly:
“The literal meaning, Mr. Gro. The princess refers to the eldest daughter of Aressto’s current king, His Majesty Kaspar, Prinshitt Viseral.”
After hearing Lokas introduce this heavyweight guest, Gro felt like the sky was falling.
“Excuse my bluntness, Mr. Lokas… the princess coming to meddle in evil god cultist affairs, isn’t this just a young lady playing house?”
“This is His Majesty Kaspar’s arrangement, Mr. Gro. In His Majesty’s view, the princess needs a necessary degree of training.”
Gro read a bit of helplessness from Lokas’s expression and immediately understood Lokas’s predicament.
“…That’s true. After all, His Majesty Kaspar is advanced in age; the candidate to inherit his throne should be properly trained.”
Gro couldn’t help but sigh; it seemed the duke had brought him another incredible trouble.
“But I don’t think I’m a good teacher, Mr. Lokas. Regarding the princess, I can only say I’ll do my utmost to complete it.” Gro’s mind involuntarily flashed to Ileil’s face full of hatred, and he sighed helplessly.
“So where is our esteemed princess?”
“The princess has already arrived in Renn Town; she came to Renn Town with me.”
“That’s way too fast…” Gro held his forehead; just thinking about dealing with such a worldly-naive princess was already exhausting.
“The person you need to face isn’t just the princess, Mr. Gro. Pull yourself together.”
“Heavens? Besides the princess, is there some other ancestor I need to serve?” Gro leaned back in the chair, slumping powerlessly.
“It’s not about serving anyone, Gro…” Lokas turned to face the floor-to-ceiling window beside him, gazing at the swaying bell tower at the highest point in Renn Town, saying gravely:
“The situation isn’t as bad as you imagine—that person is just a saint. He currently has another identity: the princess’s personal guard.”
“Saint? Which saint…” Mentioning the headache-inducing term “saint,” Gro couldn’t help but recall some bad memories.
Those saints blessed by gods, fighting under the banner of cleansing sin, were truly thorny existences on the battlefield.
“—Dorias Angus, your old friend who almost killed you.”
At the same time, on the other side.
Ileil, trapped in this black-gold vortex, hadn’t suffered any harm. She couldn’t help but turn her head to survey her surroundings. After that mysteriously appearing female voice spoke to her, the flames on the zombies seemed to go out of control as if possessing consciousness, turning the entire room into a burning inferno.
“You must be wondering… why you haven’t been hurt by this flame, my kin.”
Under the girl’s astonished gaze, the flames before her seemed to be endowed with life, outlining a humanoid silhouette that gradually transformed into the form of a human woman.
“Who are you? Why do you know about the contract just now?”
Ileil looked coldly at the black-haired, golden-eyed woman before her. She wore an elegant black long dress, her lips curved into a kind and gentle arc. But Ileil couldn’t sense any vitality of a living person from her dull golden pupils lacking any highlight.
In Ileil’s eyes, this woman was definitely not benevolent. She not only knew her witch identity but also understood the grudge between Gro and herself, even knowing about the contract Ileil was forced to sign earlier. She was not someone trustworthy.
If physical means could kill her, Ileil would unhesitatingly thrust the short sword into her heart. But Ileil knew very well that the black-haired woman formed from mysterious flames wasn’t something that could be eliminated merely with a sword.
…
“None of that matters, Mr. Ileil… or rather, is calling you Miss Ileil more accurate?”
The black-haired woman seemed unwilling to answer Ileil’s question directly; she shook her head lightly:
“My fire can sustain for a while longer; this conversation will be known only to you and me.”
“What do you want to say?”
Ileil didn’t want to hear more nonsense from the woman before her. She arched her back, already in an offensive stance. But the black-haired woman showed no fear of her taut, ready-to-strike posture, speaking unhurriedly:
“You’ve always been shrouded in the haze of hatred; why not borrow external power to escape the life dominated by that man?”
She approached Ileil, saying in an incomparably pitying tone: “Under the contract’s oppression, playing the adopted daughter of your father’s killer must be very painful, right?”
Upon hearing this, Ileil’s pupils contracted slightly. The black-haired woman looked at the shaken girl and extended her hand to Ileil:
“I’ll give you what you want. Whether it’s lifting the contract between ‘Black Edge’ and you, or adding aid to your path of revenge, these are things I can do for you.”
“—Make a deal with me, Miss Ileil.”
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