Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

”That’s different... Never mind. You’ll get your news.” Yelena sighed, her body turning into a cloud of sulfur-scented smoke that drifted out the window and disappeared.

’Shapeshifters, devils... Is that enough to take on a Religious Order?’

Ron gazed out the window. He held out his arm and whispered a few words to the gemstone embedded in it. Jilannis arrived in his office moments later. As an Array formed, their two figures grew faint before disappearing completely.

’No... not nearly enough. Since they covet the Delusional Land, I have no choice but to show them what this land is truly capable of.’

Night soon fell upon the land. In a snow-covered field outside New Green Swamp Town, several mounds of snow trembled slightly.

Beneath the mounds of snow, several men in silver-white robes lay perfectly blended into their surroundings, patiently waiting for the situation to develop. They were Messengers from the Molten Iron Barrier, who specialized in handling matters the Religious Order could not resolve through conventional means. This, of course, included the surveillance of everyone from Baka to Ron, as well as the kidnapping in Rose City.

However, the moon was now sinking in the west, and after so many grueling days, even they were finding it hard to hold out.

”Why aren’t they out yet?” a younger Messenger complained in a low voice. ”Is the intelligence from the Judicial Court wrong? Is this Lord really just a cold, heartless stone?”

”They failed to intercept Pergrande. It’s more like they escorted her here,” another Messenger said, his voice hoarse. ”Even an animal wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice.”

”Daniel is just a Bard, and Liya is a retired veteran. She has no other family besides her daughter. Their disappearance wouldn’t cause a single ripple.”

”Are we really going to kill them?” a third voice asked. ”If the people here don’t take the bait, they’re useless to us...”

”Do you intend to let them walk out of here alive and tarnish the Religious Order’s name?” The second speaker, who was likely the captain of the three-man squad, hissed. ”We can’t take that risk!”

”Our purpose is to obey the Archbishop’s will, to ensure the Religious Order functions smoothly, and to carry out its commands...” the young Messenger recited stiffly. But before he could finish, the town gate directly facing them creaked open, and they all instantly fell silent.

’They’re coming out!’

It was just as the report from Chief Judge Aron had described. These people, who had carved out a foothold in the Delusional Land, were extremely cautious. Their party consisted of fewer than ten people, each cloaked in black. A woman holding a dim lantern led the way, the third person in line was a slender man, and a short figure carrying a bow brought up the rear.

”That must be them. Hmph. Leaving at a time like this,” the Messengers’ captain muttered. After the group had vanished into the darkness, the lantern’s light fading along with them, he took out a Magic Device used for communication. ”All units, on alert. ’The ship has left port.’ I repeat, ’The ship has left port.’”

”Captain, should we go into town and confirm?” the younger member suggested. It was what the manual instructed, and as a rookie, he was trying to follow its instructions to the letter.

But his captain thought otherwise.

”Are you an idiot? There’s still a Black Dragon in there. We can’t take that kind of risk! Our plan has already been all but ruined by that traitor, Pergrande. There can’t be any more mistakes—don’t go looking for trouble!”

Under the cover of night, the three snow mounds quickly vanished from outside the town. But what they didn’t know was that a few hours later, as the first light of dawn broke, a merchant caravan departed. This caravan had arrived in New Green Swamp Town from the City-State Alliance two days ago and was now joined by another group from Cloud Port. Together, they left the town, retracing their path south.

The caravan was slightly larger than when it had arrived; a few merchants from other places had joined their ranks. Inside one carriage, three beings who belonged to no merchant caravan sat opposite one another in a long, drawn-out silence.

The largest of the three was a Black Dragon Descendant. His face was a web of crisscrossing scars, a perfect replica of Ivendel’s. Though he did his utmost to project an aura of calm authority, an air of childishness was incredibly difficult to shake. Those unfamiliar with Dragon Descendants might be intimidated by his appearance, but anyone familiar with the race could easily tell he was merely a child.

He was already doing his best to disguise himself, but for a Black Dragon, that truly wasn’t an easy thing to do.

Compared to him, the two women sitting opposite were far more composed. The old lady, with her messy, salt-and-pepper hair, looked just like an unworldly peasant woman from the countryside. However, the gilded bangle on her wrist and the gold tooth she flashed in a wide grin betrayed her as nouveau riche. She would occasionally lift the carriage curtain to peer outside; her extremely aged appearance, vulgar mannerisms, and unpleasant odor—combined with the gold nuggets she’d hand out—were enough to make any guard abandon the thought of searching her carriage.

Beside the old woman sat a young woman, dressed head to toe in black and wearing a black veil. She remained motionless for the entire journey, her eyes closed, like a statue. She made no effort to hide, getting out of the carriage for meals and rests. Rumors spread through the caravan that she was the widow of some great house, returning to Rose City to attend a funeral.

Merchants loved to gossip, but none of them would go so far as to dig for the actual truth. For them, filling in the blanks with their own imagination was far more entertaining than knowing the facts, and it made for much better dinnertime conversation. By the time the caravan was approaching Rose City, the widow was rumored to possess a nation-toppling beauty and a family fortune that could rival a kingdom’s. They said even the chairman of Rose City’s council wasn’t as wealthy as her family. Don’t believe it? Just look at the old lady! She must be her mother or grandmother from the country!

Could an ordinary family afford to forge such a heavy gold bangle for an old woman? And that gold tooth!

Such is the power of rumor. Bombarded by so many ’witnesses,’ ’physical evidence,’ and all manner of unreliable gossip, and despite the fact that the three of them had not uttered a single word the entire trip, the guards of Rose City let them in on account of the Gold Coins. Inside the courtyard of a large merchant guild, a slender Spotted Cat Person from the Cloud Port caravan approached the trio and spoke in the voice of a middle-aged man:

”As per the Lord’s request, our job escorting you is finished. We won’t be participating in any further operations. We hope you understand.”

”As minor nobles from a port city, we can’t afford to get on the wrong side of the Molten Iron Barrier.”

”That is sufficient. Thank you for your care along the journey, Mark,” the black-veiled woman said, clasping her hands before her stomach. Her long tongue flicked out instinctively before she quickly drew it back into her mouth. ”This is not for mortals such as you to meddle in. Go on, leave.”

”Thank you for understanding.” Mark, in his disguised form, wasted no more words. He immediately turned and called for his own caravan members to begin unloading their cargo. They were true merchants; their every action had a plausible reason. All they had to do now was continue playing their part.

The merchants of the Holt Clan, however, noticed that their fellow ’travelers’ lacked such discipline. They scattered in small groups, swarming into the city as if they couldn’t wait to get back to the homes they had been away from for so long.

They sneered at such behavior, and so no one paid any further attention to where the others went. No one cared if they would ever cross paths with these ’homesick man-children’ again, or whether they would even recognize them if they came face to face one day.

Meanwhile, in the now-empty Night Wind Tavern, the leader of the Shapeshifters resumed his favorite Tiffling form. He appeared before Ron and the others, who had been waiting for two days, and bowed respectfully:

”Lord Ron, the actors are all in place. We are merely waiting for the opportune moment for the curtain to rise.”