Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

“So, I ask all of you, in this living example before us today, what are we—”

“Lord Bishop, please, wait a moment!”

As Patrick’s short speech drew to a close, Daniel’s voice cut him off.

“Mr. Daniel, is something the matter?” The Bishop looked at the member of the Rose Council, surprised to find that the man, who looked older than his years, had eyes brimming with tears.

“Lord Bishop, you spoke so beautifully!” Daniel cried out. “Who can live without desire? Who can live without attachments? For me, after my wife, the one I cherish most is my dear daughter!”

“How could a man like me ignore the bonds of family for my own selfish gain! Lord Bishop, I understand now! I’ll go convince Aive right away!”

“You… understand now?” Patrick raised an eyebrow. ‘He’d never expected his little speech to have such an unexpected bonus.’ “Are you truly willing to cooperate with us? Solely because of what I said?”

“Of course! It was truly excellent!” Liya chimed in. “What good is a daughter I can’t even remember? I just want my husband and me to live out our lives in peace and safety!”

“Liya, you!”

“Daniel, we’re in the same boat now!”

‘Your wife is certainly something else,’ Patrick rolled his eyes, but he was about sixty or seventy percent convinced by their words. “But in any case, we’ve reached an agreement, have we not?”

“Malak, go and untie them.”

As the Martial Monk rose to untie Daniel and his wife, the middle-aged Bishop turned a satisfied gaze upon the silent master and servant, Hendrix and his steward, Sred. “You see? If you two would just cooperate, you wouldn’t have to endure all this unpleasantness.”

“We have no interest in your daughters. We just need them to act as intermediaries.”

This time, Bishop Patrick’s persuasion was met with silence. In contrast to the emotionally-charged Daniel and his wife, Hendrix maintained an attitude of non-violent non-cooperation. ‘The Molten Iron Barrier is a legitimate organization, after all,’ he thought. ‘Surely they can’t strip a hostage of his right to remain silent?’

Patrick was unsurprised by the spice merchant’s reaction. He turned, presenting his unguarded back to Jamie the Monk, and prepared to speak further with Daniel and his wife. But at that very moment, the Monk—who had seemed too weak to even stand properly—snapped his head up, his eyes flashing with a vicious light. A dagger slid from the wide sleeve of his robe, and he lunged, stabbing fiercely at the back of the Bishop’s neck!

“Ngh—”

The dagger scraped across the skin on the back of Patrick’s neck but failed to draw a single drop of blood. Instead, the Bishop’s arm twisted at an impossible angle, his hand snapping back to seize “Jamie the Monk” by the throat.

The moment the Monk’s feet left the ground, his physical structure began to change rapidly. Deep-gray skin replaced his human flesh. His large, bulbous nose swiftly retracted into a face that now held only two enormous eyes and a lipless mouth. As his form shifted, Patrick could no longer restrain him with one hand. The attacker easily broke free from the iron-like grip and, with feline agility, scrambled onto a nearby cask.

“A Shapeshifter!” Malak, the Half-Elf Martial Monk, was stunned. Forgetting about Daniel and his wife, he rushed to stand in front of Patrick. “Since when were there creatures like this in Rose City?!”

“I’m afraid they’ve always been here,” the Bishop said, flexing his other hand at the wrist. The smile on his face slowly faded, though a ghost of it remained. “But considering the sudden appearance of the Ghost Witch and the Black Dragon, I suppose this is the handiwork of our dear Lord?”

“But aren’t you underestimating our Religious Order just a little? You don’t look like a professional assassin. Did you really think you could play the lone hero and assassinate me?”

“State your name, lest you be buried under someone else’s name like the rest of your kind.”

“Jack,” the Shapeshifter sneered, looking down at the Bishop from his high perch. “I’m no professional assassin, it’s true. But who told you I came alone?”

“Boys! Let’s give the fine gentlemen of the Religious Order a little doppelganger shock!”

In an instant, the entire winery erupted into chaos. Some of the Priests suddenly drew weapons and attacked their “colleagues” beside them. Their victims had no time to react, falling with agonized cries beneath the blades of familiar faces.

“They’ve been replaced?” Malak’s face drained of color. He used his scabbard to beat back several approaching Priests, unable to tell friend from foe, doing his best to prevent them from causing trouble for the Bishop. “Lord Bishop, what do we do now?!”

With his abilities and familiarity with his fellow members of the order, it was nearly impossible to tell the real from the fake. In this chaotic mess, his only choice was to attack indiscriminately.

“Secure the hostages first!” Patrick roared. He pointed his finger several times, and the surrounding vats of wine exploded. Under the cover of the alcoholic mist, the two of them quickly moved toward Daniel and his wife.

‘Hendrix would make a good meat shield,’ Patrick thought, ‘but he’s not nearly as easy to handle as the more slender Daniel and Liya.’

“Stay back! Or we can’t guarantee the hostages’ safety!”

An Arbitrary Gate opened in front of Daniel and his wife. Before they could react, Patrick seized them, pulling them through the portal. They reappeared over a hundred meters away, completely free of the wine-soaked mist.

“Where is your leader? I demand to meet with him!” Patrick’s voice echoed through the winery. His answer, however, was a cask that burst through the mist, hurtling through the air toward them.

“Cleave!”

Malak let out a deep roar and strode forward. With a flash of his blade, he instantly hacked the cask into dozens of pieces. As wine rained down on him, a sense of mortal danger exploded in the Martial Monk’s mind without warning!

“Bishop, watch out!”

BOOM! Nearly every drop of airborne wine turned into a bomb. The explosion was suffused with raging Arcane Energy, giving it a destructive power on par with a seventh-circle Arcane Magic spell!

“Damn it, are you trying to kill us?!”

As the smoke gradually cleared, Patrick and Malak staggered to their feet amidst violent coughs, covered in dust and grime. Patrick’s Bishop’s Robe had been nearly blasted to smithereens; if he hadn’t thrown up a magical defense at the last second, not even the few strips of fabric left hanging from his body like tattered sashes would have survived.

He didn’t have to think hard to know who could cause such an explosion. ‘The Lord of Delusional Land has arrived.’

“Think of your companions’ families! Do you intend for them to die here with me as my funeral offerings?!”

The Bishop reached back to grab the hostages. The explosion had been so sudden he hadn’t even had time to use them as human shields!

It was, however, too late. Patrick’s hand closed on empty air.

The Lord Bishop turned to look at the empty space behind him. “Where are my hostages?!”