Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

”That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Constance sneered. ”Where did the real Mr. Sred go?”

The Half-Elf was only a height’s difference away from the other Half-Elf. The moment he realized his disguise had been compromised, Sred’s gaze hardened instantly. Constance had just placed her hand on her Swift Sword when the other Half-Elf’s Flame-shaped Dagger precisely flicked up at the ornate Hand Guard.

If the Half-Elf had been using a similarly long weapon, this move would have been tantamount to disarming himself. But a dagger is far more agile, and the Half-Elf himself was incredibly swift. Although Constance reacted as quickly as she could, she was still disarmed in a flash.

CLANG! The Swift Sword was sent flying, landing at Ron’s feet. However, Sred only glanced at Ron before refocusing his attention on Constance.

”Lord of Delusional Land, I know from Judge Aron that you are a powerful Mage. But I advise you to give up any thought of resistance—in here, I absolutely will not allow you to use any Magic.”

Ron frowned slightly. He flicked the sword up from the ground with the toe of his boot, attempting to use a cantrip to imbue the blade and give the man a warning. However, to his surprise, Magic seemed to have no effect here.

”A Spell-Invalidation Barrier.” Ron detected the anomaly in the surrounding Magic Power. The Arcane Radiance in this study seemed faintly distorted, a fact that was nearly impossible to perceive before attempting to cast, but was now strikingly apparent.

”Good that you know,” Sred sneered, his dagger rising toward Constance’s chest as he slowly forced her back against the wall. ”Miss Constance, playing clever little games is not a good habit. I didn’t want to make things this unpleasant for you, but now... my apologies.”

”As for you, Lord, once I’ve taken care of Miss Constance with this dagger coated in a Sleep Potion, I’ll have to ask you to come with me, won’t I?”

”Don’t worry. As long as you’re willing to cooperate, we’ll guarantee your safety.”

”What do you mean by ’cooperation’?” Ron’s hand moved toward the small of his back, where a Scroll he had made himself was tucked into his belt.

Of course, the Spell-Invalidation Barrier wouldn’t allow him to exploit such a loophole.

”Cooperation means you follow our orders.” Sred’s dagger pricked Constance’s skin. The Magic Potion took effect quickly; the Half-Elf soon found herself unable to stand, and she slowly slid down the wall to the floor. ”Only the Molten Iron Barrier can solve the problem of the demon invasion! Every organization and individual in the world must understand and support our actions!”

Sred turned around, the Magic Potion on his dagger still shimmering with a strange luster. ”Take her, for example. Miss Constance was wise enough not to resist, so she gets to enjoy a peaceful sleep.”

”And you? Are you going to continue maintaining your hard-won dignity as a Lord and speak to me, a Bishop, as an equal? Or will you wait for me to ’invite’ you to sit at the same table as the Daniel Couple?”

”If you choose the latter, you’ll find that many things are no longer up to you.”

”You’ve really gone to great lengths to create this environment,” Ron said, warily eyeing the approaching Half-Elf. ”But I am a little curious: what exactly do you covet in Delusional Land? As far as I know, Delusional Land is just a dangerous, remote backwater. A Religious Order like the Molten Iron Barrier shouldn’t have any interest in it, right?”

”A remote backwater? Perhaps it once was,” Sred stared into Ron’s eyes. ”But don’t play dumb with me. We’ve received news that the Abyss has been struggling against Hell recently, supposedly because they lost an Abyssal Silver Vein—you’re not going to pretend you don’t know about this, are you?”

”Delusional Land was supposedly attacked by demons in the past, and you’ve recently occupied it. The connection between these events... I don’t need to spell it out for you, do I!”

”’Just lost’?” Ron blinked. ’It seems their intelligence is incomplete, or was deliberately obscured.’ ”But isn’t this a good thing for you? Hell can take on more of the pressure for you—”

”It’s nowhere near enough!” Sred interrupted him irritably. ”What can you do with your pitiful strength? It’s a drop in the bucket! We need more help—only the Molten Iron Barrier can achieve this, allowing Hell to better tie down the demons!”

”As for you, do you really think we would trust an upstart like you? If you were to side with Chaos one day, you would ruin everything!”

The Half-Elf angrily waved the dagger in his hand. ”Just look at this city! Ghost Witches, demons, Black Dragons! You think I don’t know anything? People like you can’t be trusted! We can only rely on ourselves to win this Holy War!”

”For once, you’ve said something I agree with,” Ron’s hand rested on his waist. ”But why, then, did you join forces with Dispart?”

”Bowing and scraping to Hell for help, being used as a pawn without even knowing it—is that what you call ’relying on yourselves’?”

”You! How do you...?!” Sred froze for a moment. ’Pergrande might have guessed we were cooperating with the Nine Prisons, but there’s no way he could know such specific details!’

”In a sense, you’ve attacked one of your own,” Ron said with a strange smile. ”But the problem is...” Before Sred could lunge, Ron was a step faster, drawing the Siren’s Song from his waist. Hidden by his clothes, a Gemstone on his arm flared with a faint light, instantly granting Ron the physical prowess of a Warrior!

”You picked a fight with the wrong temple this time!”

The dagger grazed the hem of Ron’s clothes, while the Hand Crossbow in his hand was aimed at Sred’s head. A slender green ray formed upon the string like a crossbow bolt, and as Ron’s finger pulled the trigger, a terrifyingly solid blast of Arcane Magic instantly tore the Half-Elf and the entire barrier in the room to shreds!

More devastating still, a piercing Magic Scream erupted at the same time, breaking Bishop Shred’s concentration and interrupting any further Casting!

And yet, even an attack like that failed to kill the Bishop from the Molten Iron Barrier. Before Ron’s eyes, the Half-Elf’s head and the better part of his body dissolved into a great puff of sulfurous smoke. Carried by a tremor of Dissonant Chaos, his scattered form drifted to the doorway, where he reformed and solidified back into that malicious figure.

”Dissociation Magic!” Sred looked at Ron, shocked and furious. ”When did you learn a trick like this?!”

’A Spell-Invalidation Barrier only works on Magic of a lower tier than itself, and Dissociation Magic is the same tier!’

’But at that moment, Sred’s greater concern was: where had this man learned Dissociation Magic?!’