"Have you completed those tasks recently?" the Finger Maiden repeated the words of the Two Fingers.
"No. The Tarnished's demand for Finger Maidens is endless. They seem more confident lately and are in urgent need of guidance."
He paused for a moment and added: "Also, Goldmask's research into the Order is very interesting; I want to invest more energy into him. The 'Dung Eater' and 'Tarnished Eater' have appeared, and I am arranging for envoys to hunt them down."
"Intelligence work at Mt. Gelmir is very difficult to conduct. I am preparing to send capable personnel to infiltrate the Recusants to find out what Rykard is up to."
The Bishop had a great deal to do, but fortunately, he always maintained a high-spirited demeanor, doing his utmost for the Greater Will.
"Put these matters aside; they have become insignificant."
The Bishop was stunned. How could they be insignificant? These matters had far-reaching consequences. Yet, before he could ask, the Finger Maiden spoke.
"A Death Eater is suspected to have appeared in Caelid."
The Two Fingers did not mention Radahn or Lansseax, clearly having its own considerations. A Death Eater? The Bishop became serious instantly. The previous matters might only affect the overall plan in the future, but a Death Eater was a life-threatening issue right now.
"Do you want me to lead all the envoys to Caelid to surround and kill it? I can set off this afternoon."
"No, go to Limgrave and find Sir Gideon Ofnir. Remember, go secretly; do not alert anyone."
"Does he have a problem?"
The Bishop immediately recalled previous events; it was rumored that Sir Gideon Ofnir and The Dauntless had a very unpleasant falling out for unknown reasons.
"No, perhaps he has the answer I seek. Also, send someone to Elphael. Malenia has been asleep for too long; the power of the Haligtree cannot be left idle."
Had the Two Fingers been forced to lay out plans ahead of schedule? Shimlei took a deep breath. He also felt a sense of urgency and no longer had his previous composure.
"My Lord, is the situation very dire?"
The Two Fingers did not answer him immediately. After a long while, it replied through Enia:
"That mysterious enemy has already begun to make moves. By the time things become dire—"
"It will be too late!"
No one was a fool, and Throne was not an invisible man manipulating everything from the shadows. To slay people, one had to walk in The Lands Between, which would inevitably leave traces. The sudden appearance of Gurranq only accelerated this process, revealing from his perspective some things hidden beneath the chaos. Just like a slowly tightening noose, it would eventually constrict the neck.
But there was absolutely no need to be nervous; this was inevitable and sooner or later. Everything had already unfolded according to plan, and even if Gurranq understood the full truth, Caria had the strength to fight at this moment. Throne opened his eyes and heard some snoring. He hesitated for a moment, seeing that the sky had completely darkened... or so he thought.
It was a round and resilient object blocking the light, only an inch or two from the tip of his nose. Every time the girl, whose head was drooping, inhaled, it would touch him. So what should I do now? Reach out and swat this annoying thing away? Throne's brain was moving a bit slowly. He hadn't been dreaming just now, but had passed out directly.
After hesitating for a moment, he whispered:
"Hey, Melina, are you trying to tackle me with your chest?"
No response, and this sleeping posture was too terrible. How did you become an assassin? He slowly raised his hand, preparing to wake Melina, but the person whose head kept drooping lost her balance completely and fell forward.
Throne immediately felt a huge, soft object pressed against his face, making it hard to breathe. As an executioner, he subconsciously reached out and pushed. It was only for an instant, and before he could feel it carefully, Melina sprang up. This caught Throne, who was lying on her lap, off guard, and he rolled directly into the stream. Thump.
With a muffled sound, Millicent, who was keeping watch on the hilltop, immediately turned back to look, then hurriedly turned her head away. Throne sat in the stream, soaked all over, looking speechlessly at Melina standing on the bank. The two stared at each other for several seconds until Throne finally couldn't help it.
"Hey, aren't you going to apologize?"
"Sorry, that was an assassin's reflex."
Perhaps because of the light, Melina's face was flushed. Was there an assassin in this world who couldn't be woken up even after falling asleep? Before he could complain, Melina frowned, feeling a strange lingering sensation on her chest.
"Wait, what did you do earlier?"
"I didn't do anything," Throne said firmly, hiding his hand behind his back, even though his splayed fingers looked like they were measuring something. Very large. And there were no bras in The Lands Between, yet it could still maintain its curve; this was very unscientific.
Throne was serious, of course; half was the inquiring spirit of a scientist, and half was because this matter wasn't his fault to begin with. It was just an executioner's reflex as well. Melina tilted her head, still feeling something was wrong, but Throne interrupted: "How long did I sleep?"
"About half a day. Why?"
"Calculating the time, Lansseax should have settled those dragons by now and will be coming over soon. There is important business later, and I'm still a bit hungry, so..."
"Got it, got it. I'll go relieve Millicent and make you something to eat."
Melina didn't think too much about it; seeing the clear stream, she thought she could grill fish while keeping watch later.
"Then hurry up; I'll dry my clothes."
Throne climbed up slowly, his serious expression unchanged.
"Why are you rushing me? I've already apologized."
Melina turned and left. When she relieved Millicent, she felt the girl's gaze was a bit strange, and when she asked her questions, Millicent was hesitant. When she came to the stream to spear fish, she finally felt something was wrong. Hmm?
Melina frowned slightly, put down the short spear, looked down at her open hands, then slowly placed them on her chest and gave a gentle squeeze. This sensation... Her face turned red instantly, as if it could drip water. She turned around abruptly and glared at the man by the stream, her eyes filled with violent murderous intent.
"Throne——"
Crap, has the network latency ended?
Throne, who had already lit a campfire and was taking off his clothes, changed expression. He didn't even have time to put his clothes back on and said to Millicent, who had just lain down next to him:
"Apprentice, protect your master quickly!"
Millicent was stunned; she hadn't expected Throne to make her take the hit. After a moment, she turned over, leaving her back to him.
You unfilial apprentice! Throne didn't expect this guy to be unreliable. Looking up, he saw Melina striding over, gripping the Black Knife behind her waist. Should he run, explain, or make a counter-accusation? After a good sleep, his brain had recovered, and while he was hesitating, Melina had already arrived before him.
"Wait, this matter wasn't my fault to begin with; it was you..."
"Wait until I stab you twice before talking!"
"You don't care about these things, do you? Why are you angry?"
"That was before. Now, thanks to you, I care very much!"
Melina didn't know the answer either, but she just had to stab this guy twice to vent her hatred. Better run. Throne couldn't explain himself now.
Pinning Melina down for some aggressive exposure therapy wasn't an option. He'd barely taken two steps when a muffled thump shook the ground behind him. Lansseax dropped from the sky like a falling star, landing between them.
"Why's there tension between you two?"
The dragon woman's head swiveled left then right, nostrils flaring.
Her slit pupils narrowed to amused crescents when she saw Melina's white-knuckled grip on her sword hilt.
"Oh-ho. What'd he do? Spill it—I'll help you skin him alive."
Melina exhaled through her nose and forced her hand away from the blade.
"Not your concern."
How could she possibly explain?
Not to her, of all creatures. Who knew what filth would spill from that scaly mouth? Mockery, maybe. Disgust, probably. Worst case, she'd turn around and demand that bastard try his tricks on her too.
"Boring. Throne, you talk."
A true lifesaver. The man's opinion of the dragon woman skyrocketed.
Sometimes you needed a veteran around to cut through tsundere nonsense. Though only Sellen could actually rein her in. He glanced at Melina first. The girl's glare could strip bark from trees—clear warning that one wrong word would mean war.
"A minor misunderstanding. Just stumbled on a secret about The Lands Between."
"What secret?"
Throne kept his face neutral under Melina's dagger-stare.
"Gravity theory. Not worth discussing."
"You've both gone dull as ditchwater."
Lansseax threw up her hands, scales glittering in frustration.
"I'll roast fish. Sort your drama alone."
Melina practically fled, though she paused to hiss over her shoulder: "Don't you dare speak recklessly, Throne."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
His cheerful thumbs-up didn't reassure her. She kept glancing back until the trees swallowed her.
Lansseax materialized in his personal space.
"Now talk. Did you get her drunk and—" "Bullshit. When would I? Just killed Greyoll—no time for tavern crawls."
"Ah, so you wanted to but couldn't."
She nodded sagely, fangs glinting.
"Good. Saves me a test."
"What test?"
"Checking if you're capable."
Throne backpedaled so fast his heels kicked up dirt. Realizing he still lacked a shirt, he fumbled for his cloak.
"Why cover up? That rugged look suits you."
Lansseax grabbed the fabric. A mutual tug-of-war ended with a loud rrrip—the garment now scraps in their fists.
The man stood half a head shorter but every scar told a story—sword slashes, spear gouges, the autobiography of a survivor. In these lands, soft men ended up as noble playthings. Only the hard-lived roamed free.
"Mmm, battle-tested."
Lansseax licked her lips.
"Risked my neck jumping in—fair trade for this view. You're getting the better deal."
Throne froze mid-step, Bloodhound's Step half-primed.
Lansseax was truly bizarre; such a huge favor was just called even like that. So did he lose or win? Throne squared his shoulders. Screw it—he was a grown man facing a female rogue. What was there to fear?
"Thick-skinned bastard."
The dragon woman smirked.
"Takes one to know one."
Throne plopped down cross-legged in the dirt.
While warming himself by the fire, he asked: "How are things with the dragons?"
"Killed five, the rest are all lying down. I cut off one dragon horn from each as a souvenir."
Lansseax revealed a cruel smile. Don't look at her laughing and joking all day; she doesn't hold back when she takes action.
"Aren't you afraid they'll run away?"
"Beasts are beasts after all. It's nothing more than changing a protector. Why would they run? Would they really risk flying across the central sea?"
Throne nodded. It was like a pack of wolves; change the alpha, and the rest would naturally submit. Not to mention that the rank of an Ancient Dragon was inherently higher than Greyoll's. Whether they had intelligence or not, survival instinct was the most fundamental thing.
"Then I'm relieved. You know what to do next, right?"
"Keep Radahn in check, so he won't break his promise due to pressure. It also counts as giving him an explanation. Come to think of it, when are you going to fight Radahn?"
"No rush. I'm weak right now, and he's sick too. An opponent like that must be faced with full strength against full strength."
"I really don't understand what you're thinking."
Lansseax shook her head. If you said this man was upright and honorable, sometimes he was very insidious—taking advantage of illness to kill you was a basic operation. If you said he was insidious, he would believe in promises.
"Fine, I'll do this for you."
"Eh, I thought you would refuse because it was too boring."