Adelan closed his eyes, sinking into the agony of recollection. "We were assigned to kill Montport. At first, everything went extremely smoothly. We quickly confirmed the exact location of this Abyssal Lord. Once we were equipped with every resource available, we launched a surprise attack on him."
"The beginning of the battle was like a landslide victory—we forced him into a desperate retreat. He tried to have his demon followers block our way while he escaped, but those demons were mere pests, utterly incapable of stopping us."
"We kept up our pursuit, chasing him into a snow-filled mountain valley. We thought Montport was at the end of his rope, stranded there to die alone. But then…"
His voice began to tremble. "It was a trap! None of us realized that this creature had already mastered a 9th-level spell, 'Meteor Swarm'—and had hidden that power until now!"
"So right there, in that valley, he unleashed the spell upon us and triggered a massive snowmelt—beneath that ice lay his well-prepared lair, riddled with traps."
"We fell in, became separated, and then the mountainside collapsed and the ground buried us. I didn't even have the ability to fly free."
"We were forced to play a game of cat and mouse with him in that dark, bloody, horrifying labyrinth. When his roars echoed, sinister energies invaded my mind, driving me into terror; whenever I regained my senses, I'd hear the agonized screams of my companions…"
"I saw my comrades in arms torn apart... I only survived because I was the last one standing…"
He fell silent, his face a mask of torment. Even his teeth were chattering as he recounted what he'd endured inside Montport's lair—a trauma that would haunt even a veteran ranger.
Charles's expression was grave. This was anything but good news. After all, demons are inherently chaotic and capricious; they are not known for the discipline needed to truly exercise their innate spellcasting ability.
For Montport to have mastered a ninth-level spell was enough to mark him as extraordinary.
A pessimistic estimate suggested his strength might rival legendary Demon Lords such as the Minotaur Lord Baphomet, or the Gnoll Lord Yeenoghu.
Worse, this might have been Montport's breakout fight—and Liberl Port, the stepping stone to his infamy…
...
Daevyl went on to ask many detailed questions, showing no sympathy for Adelan's agony, as if his nephew's suffering meant nothing to him.
Only after receiving all the intel he wanted did Daevyl end the interrogation. He exited the tent with Charles, looking satisfied.
Standing outside in the morning sunlight and cold wind, Daevyl felt wonderful, as though everything he'd done had paid off.
Yagra, on the other hand, was clearly displeased with his behavior and couldn't help but say, "You shouldn't have pushed him like that. Didn't you see he was nearly about to break down?"
"In the end, he's still your nephew, isn't he?"
As someone raised among the tribes, kinship meant a great deal to her—a concept she could never reconcile with elven family relations. Daevyl merely ignored this, considering his bodyguard naïve.
Charles then broke in: "Alright, now it's time for our end of the deal. Mr. Daevyl, what is this 'little secret' of the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers you spoke of?"
Daevyl took a long breath, looking quite at ease, even faintly pleased. It seemed as if he had no worries for the material world's future—whether this was a lack of faith in his nephew or an overconfidence in Liberl Port's strength was anyone's guess.
Hearing Charles's question, Daevyl nodded faintly, a knowing smile at the corners of his lips. "Of course. Now I can tell you."
He looked Charles in the eye. "Among the higher-ups of the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers, there's a spy sent by Montport. High probability it's a succubus—but it could also be something else."
Charles's pupils contracted slightly. Daevyl continued, "She's hiding in the Highmountain tribes, secretly scheming and manipulating many things behind the scenes. If you can make use of her, it could be a deadly blow to the minotaurs."
"What do you think?"
Charles's gaze turned cold. "So who is she?"
Daevyl spread his hands. "I don't know."
Charles's brows shot up. "What did you say?"
"I truly don't know," Daevyl replied. Seeing Charles's impatient look, his mood improved further. "If you know me so well, you should also know the operating style of our shadowy intelligence networks."
"I do have an informant inside the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers. She's young, but remarkably smart and cautious. Until I offer to help her root out the mole, she refuses to tell me the critical details."
He spread his hands again, still smiling, but it looked more like he was teasing Charles. "I'm just a simple information broker. I lack the power to help her. Unlike you, who can drive back a berserk giant bear totem barbarian with a single sword, or defeat that terrifying earth dragon…"
Bullshit!
This guy may be a real 10th-level spellcaster; on paper, possibly even stronger than Charles! That bear barbarian could have easily been subdued with your spellcasting alone—who are you trying to fool with this routine?
Charles's eyes narrowed, and the faces of Nidalee, Torun, and Bruno flickered through his mind. He clenched his fist.
"Tell me how to contact your informant," he demanded. "I'll help her deal with the traitor."
Daevyl nodded lightly. "She's a young but clever satyr girl. To be honest, she actually found out about my attempt to infiltrate the Alliance before I ever reached out to her—and she was the first to contact me…"
Charles's expression shifted. At the word "satyr," he couldn't help but think of the satyr matriarch, Willo Green Vines.
The mention brought a twinge of resentment: he had trusted her, but war had still broken out, the Rockseeker's Outpost had been destroyed, and demons now rampaged in the mountains—everything careening toward the very disaster everyone had hoped to avoid.
He could guess this wasn't her original intention. But as one of the alliance leaders, her failure to prevent the war had become, for him, its ultimate grievance.
"Oh, right."
Daevyl suddenly remembered something and added, "My contact said, to ensure reliability, she'd best be assisted by a paladin to deal with this problem."
Charles blinked, then put on a serious face. "I have paladins. Go on."
With a smile, Daevyl proceeded to provide the contact details and other essential information, one by one.
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