On the same morning when Captain Marcus, Bishop Peter, and Guildmaster John gathered their forces to confront the Goblin King, another group of extraordinary individuals also began to move.
"Is just a few short days of investigation really enough, Lord Zerathis?"
The speaker was a captivating young woman with short silver hair.
She wore a tight, short dress that accentuated every graceful curve of her body. Her long legs and pale skin revealed beneath the hem only heightened her alluring presence, carrying an air of enchantment.
Zerathis, a bald man with a rough, unattractive face, replied simply:
"That will be enough, Zolie."
His voice rang with certainty, radiating a sense of trustworthiness.
Accompanying the two were another pair, a man and a woman.
The woman had blonde hair, while the man's long black hair was neatly tied back.
Aside from their pleasant appearance, there seemed to be nothing unusual about them at first glance.
The four of them crossed the bustling morning streets together, heading toward the mansion where Count Alistair resided.
"Stop. This is the Count's residence. Unauthorized persons are not permitted to approach any closer."
The guards outside quickly blocked their path, issuing a warning.
Zerathis spoke: "We are a band of adventurers bearing crucial intelligence regarding the Goblin King. It must be delivered directly to the Count himself."
His voice carried a strange, almost magical persuasion, brimming with conviction.
At once, the guards felt no need to question further. One stepped forward and said:
"Wait here. I will go inside and report first."
The four strangers remained patient, standing quietly as they awaited the response.
Not long after, a man with a seasoned, experienced look, dressed in the attire of a butler, came forward to meet the strangers who claimed to be adventurers.
He spoke: "I hear you bring highly important intelligence. Could you tell me what it is?"
Zerathis: "We assume you are the Count's butler?"
Butler: "That is correct."
He nodded firmly in confirmation.
Zerathis: "Could we move somewhere more private to speak? The information we carry is not suitable for too many ears."
As he said this, his gaze briefly shifted toward the nearby guards.
Butler: "Very well. Please, follow me."
The butler then led them to a special reception room.
Once the group had entered, the door was closed, cutting them off from the guards outside.
With the privacy secured, the butler immediately asked:
"So then, what is the information you bring? If it truly holds value, I am certain the Count will gladly reward you handsomely."
Zerathis: "In truth, the Goblin King is nothing more than a trap, meant to mislead everyone and scatter Aldor's forces."
Hearing such an unexpected and alarming revelation, the butler's expression grew stern as he quickly pressed with a series of questions:
"In detail, who is behind this? What is their purpose? And how did you come to know of this?"
Zerathis: "Let's see… the ones behind it are a group of Demons. Their purpose, naturally, is to bring as much destruction and death to this land as possible…"
He began answering each of the butler's questions slowly and deliberately.
Once he judged that enough time had been drawn out, Zerathis added:
"And as for how we know this… It's simple. Because we ourselves are that group of Demons."
At first, the butler thought he had misheard. But immediately after, he reacted sharply and unleashed his own magic.
Zerathis calmly stomped his foot against the floor.
At once, the magic that had been set up in the room to target unwelcome guests was disrupted and partially stalled. The earlier conversation meant to buy time had, in truth, been preparation for this very moment.
That stomp also served as a signal to the other three. Immediately, they moved into action.
The black-haired man swiftly bent down, pressing both hands against the floor.
From his palms, a strange golden flame spilled forth, spreading across the room. Yet, it did not burn or consume the chamber.
In reality, he was working in tandem with Zerathis to completely dismantle the defensive magic prepared by their opponents within the room.
Fighting an enemy on their own ground often meant disadvantages. Thus, removing those disadvantages was the very first step they took.
While the two men focused on neutralizing the room itself, the two women lunged straight at the butler, who was himself a Mage.
Their speed was astonishing, closing the distance in the blink of an eye.
Just as he was about to unleash his own magic, the butler saw the golden-haired woman raise both hands toward him.
Instantly, he felt his spiritual energy turn chaotic, as though being drawn out of his body and pulled toward her outstretched hands.
'An energy drain…? This is bad.'
With his spiritual energy thrown into disarray, the magics he tried to use failed to manifest as intended. In the end, only a simple barrier was hastily erected.
But that fragile shield was immediately pierced and shattered by the other woman, using nothing but her bare hand.
\Her hand thrust forward, breaking through the magical barrier, and drove straight toward the butler's throat.
Unable to dodge or counter in time, his throat was pierced by nails as sharp as dagger tips. With a swift slash of her hand, the silver-haired woman cleanly severed the butler's head.
Zolie: "The rest is yours, Erya."
She spoke as she tossed the severed head like a ball.
Erya, the golden-haired woman, caught it silently and nodded.
Then she crouched beside the corpse of the butler and began to weave her magic.
. . .
Only a few minutes after the door of the room had been shut, it was opened once more.
The soldiers outside saw the butler hurrying ahead, with the group of four guests following closely behind.
The last of them even took care to pull the door closed again before quickly chasing after the others.
Seeing this, the guards assumed something serious had occurred, prompting them to rush to meet the Count.
Since they had received no specific instructions, the soldiers continued their duties.
Some resumed their patrols, while the rest hurried to escort the five figures moving ahead.