Chapter 701: The Captive
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 701: The Captive
"Are you Dilaka?"
A High-Class Demon, his entire form shrouded in a black robe, suddenly appeared and sized Dilaka up.
"Are you the one who wants to exchange a human female adventurer for a reward from Her Grace, the Grand Duke of Bewitchment?"
"Yes, yes, that’s me. I am Dilaka. So, you are an esteemed lord serving under the Grand Duke? I..."
The newcomer's haughty demeanor quickly put Dilaka at ease. In the strictly hierarchical Demon Race, almost no demon would dare impersonate one of a higher rank; the consequences of being caught were far too severe. Furthermore, this meeting spot was so secluded that no third party could possibly know about it except for the person he had arranged to meet.
Yet, for some reason, a strange sensation stirred deep within Dilaka.
It was as if... he had seen this scene somewhere before?
"May I ask... how should I address you, my Lord?" Dilaka asked cautiously.
"Govelt. I believe I told you that during our communications," the High-Class Demon said coldly. "Do you think someone would dare to impersonate me?"
"No, no, no! I was merely confirming. I meant nothing else... Was it just my imagination?" Dilaka shook his head and muttered to himself.
Govelt, already growing impatient with Dilaka’s lack of etiquette, demanded, "Where is the adventurer?"
"She’s right here. Have a look."
Dilaka didn't dare delay any longer. Squeezing out a fawning smile, he stepped aside to reveal the female adventurer behind him.
The girl struggled violently, glaring at the two of them with the ferocity of a cornered little beast. Dilaka merely sneered inwardly; no one cared about the feelings of a mere piece of merchandise.
However, he felt something was slightly off... Had that female adventurer’s chest always been that... exaggerated?
"Hmm, not bad."
Govelt didn't approach. The Grand Duke of Bewitchment didn't like others touching her things. He stood a few paces away, inspecting the captive adventurer, and nodded.
"The quality is good. With this level of beauty, Her Grace will be pleased."
"Then... the things I asked for?" Dilaka temporarily pushed his doubts aside and rubbed his hands together nervously.
"Here, take them."
Without further questioning, Govelt casually produced a large chest.
A heat flared in Dilaka’s eyes. He hadn't expected the other party to hand over the goods so easily; he’d thought he would have to waste a lot more breath.
But when the chest was opened, Dilaka suddenly realized that it didn't contain the items he had been longing for. Instead, it was...
A suit of old armor?
"This..."
Dilaka froze. "How can it be this? I asked for Blood Essence to make me stronger! Blood Essence refined from several Overlord-class Magical Beasts... How did it suddenly become armor?"
"Is there a difference?" Govelt said indifferently. "This thing can also make you stronger."
"That—that’s not how it works!"
Dilaka’s cheek twitched. He wanted to explode in rage, but he forced his expression into a bizarre, strained smile.
"My Lord, this joke isn't funny. How much stronger can a piece of worn-out armor make me? Compared to Blood Essence, this is basically..."
"Shut up! Take it or leave it!"
Govelt frowned, his voice rising in an impatient roar.
"Do you really think this armor is simple? This is Magic Armor captured from the humans! It can increase your defense by a full ten percent! Do you think an ordinary demon would even be qualified to receive such a treasure?"
"Ten percent..."
Dilaka gritted his teeth so hard they nearly shattered, his eyes bulging.
What did he mean, "treasure"?
What did he mean, "a full ten percent"?
He had been stuck at the Fourth-Tier for so long. If he had the Blood Essence to break through his realm, his strength would have multiplied several times over.
This measly ten percent...
How was this any different from tossing a scrap to a beggar?
Even in a society with a strict hierarchy, being insulted like this made it impossible for Dilaka to suppress his internal fury.
"Lord Govelt, don't you think you're going too far!" A crimson light flared brilliantly in Dilaka’s eyes.
"This reward was personally set by the Grand Duke of Bewitchment. Do you really dare to embezzle it so casually?"
Fighting Spirit surged, and an Astral Wind swept outward. The surrounding rubble was sent flying, and spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the red stone walls.
Yet Govelt didn't even bother to dodge the incoming wind. He allowed the dangerous pressure, capable of shattering stone, to do nothing more than... tear the hem of his robe.
"I certainly wouldn't dare to break Her Grace's rules on a whim."
Govelt lowered his head, staring at the tear in his robe with a look of mock heartbreak... though the smirk at the corner of his mouth was impossible to hide.
"But... since you dared to initiate an attack against me, it is only natural and reasonable for me to engage in 'counter-attack in self-defense,' isn't it?"
"What?"
Dilaka was stunned, then it suddenly clicked—he had walked right into a trap.
But by the time he realized it, it was too late.
A terrifying Fighting Spirit, several times stronger than his own, erupted from Govelt’s body in an instant.
"Attacking a Skinner serving under the Grand Duke of Bewitchment is a capital offense!"
Govelt slowly drew a hideous, crescent-shaped razor from his waist. "Even in these special times when the front lines are desperate for cannon fodder, Her Grace won't blame me for killing a criminal who committed such a grave sin."
"No... you can't... you can't do this..."
The realization finally hit Dilaka.
He had made a massive mistake from the very beginning. He had actually thought he could trade privately with these selfish, cold, and insatiable wolves to maximize his own profit.
But when a sheep meets a wolf for a private chat... where is the "fair trade"?
He hadn't even been qualified to decide whether or not to step into the trap.
"No! Govelt! Even you can't just kill me whenever you want! This place is—"
"I told you, this isn't 'whenever I want.'"
Govelt approached with slow steps, a mocking smile appearing on his cold face. "To use a human phrase... my killing you is legally justified and beyond reproach."
*
A few minutes later, Ariel watched the blood flowing toward her feet and her eyelid twitched instinctively.
What the hell? I ran into a double-cross?
A double-cross was one thing—she’d seen plenty of those—but she hadn't even made her move yet. The only flaw in her "bait-and-switch" plan had just been resolved for her?
She had been debating whether to secretly poison this Dilaka fellow, fearing her teacher's mental suggestion might wear off and ruin her grand infiltration plan.
But now, it seemed that wouldn't be necessary.
She had to admit, there were quite a few "good people" among the demons. They provided her with intel and even helped her clean up the loose ends. She had never received such "hospitality" while causing trouble elsewhere. This level of service almost made her want to leave a five-star review.
"I’ll be sure to enjoy the Blood Essence that was supposed to be yours."
Govelt watched as Dilaka slowly died with a look of pure malice. He even pulled out the Blood Essence and waved it in front of the dying demon's eyes.
"Next time, remember to be a bit smarter. Otherwise, you're no different from those Low Demons."
After finishing his mockery, Govelt sheathed his razor. He used some sort of tool to incinerate Dilaka’s corpse, letting the ashes scatter into the wind-blown dust. Finally, his attention returned to Ariel.
"Scared, human?"
"..."
Ariel remained silent, maintaining her expression of angry defiance mixed with helplessness.
"Heh, not scared? You’ve got some backbone. Perhaps you really will catch Her Grace's eye."
Govelt picked up the chains and chuckled.
"Follow me. The future awaiting you might not be as terrible as you think."
*
Following Govelt, they drew closer and closer to Gutons Fortress.
Finally, in an open clearing outside the city, Ariel saw two carriages pulled by Abyssal magical beasts.
There didn't seem to be many guards around the vehicles, but they were all clad in mysterious black robes, dressed exactly like Govelt. They were likely the "Skinners" he had mentioned, and clearly weren't opponents to be trifled with.
"Found another one?"
The leading Skinner took the initiative to speak to Govelt.
"Delivered by an idiot."
"Good quality."
"A pity we can't enjoy her ourselves."
"Heh, whatever Her Grace doesn't want will naturally be left for us. Don't be impatient. Get her settled for now; it’s about time we entered the city."
"Understood."
Govelt nodded and led Ariel to one of the carriages.
The interior was large, enough to hold about a dozen people. When Ariel was shoved inside, she found several other female adventurers scattered throughout the dim carriage.
"Stay put. There are restrictions on the carriage and your chains. You won't be escaping."
Govelt gave a cold warning, shoved Ariel the rest of the way in, and slammed the heavy door shut.
It was clear the carriage door was specially reinforced; it wouldn't be easy to open.
But regardless, the first step of her "Save the Poor, Helpless Beautiful Girls" plan began here.
Ariel’s heart was racing, but she remained calm. She scanned her surroundings and began to observe the other captured women.
Most of them were like her—looking quite disheveled. Their belongings had been confiscated, and they bore various injuries, their clothes stained with red.
Fortunately, their wounds had received emergency treatment. It seemed the demons wouldn't let them die easily before they met the legendary Grand Duke of Bewitchment—or at least, not until they had lost all their value.
"Has someone else been caught?"
Ariel turned her head slightly toward the speaker.
It was a girl who looked quite delicate and fragile, with long hair reaching her waist. She lacked the heroic or sharp aura typical of an adventurer; instead, she stretched her lithe body with a sense of extreme lethargy as she spoke.
It was as if this wasn't a cage for captives, but a soft bed from which she was just waking up.
Even more surprising was that the girl didn't turn her gaze toward Ariel as she spoke. Her eyes were unfocused, staring blankly into the void.
"Sorry. I used a forbidden technique I hadn't fully mastered before, so I'm currently suffering from temporary blindness. I'm not used to it yet."
The languid girl, Feifei, seemed to sense Ariel’s surprised gaze. She nodded slightly in greeting and slapped the back of the person next to her.
"As for this one... a newcomer arrives and she doesn't even say hello. Are you really that scared?"
"Who are you calling scared!"
The petite figure next to the languid girl snapped her head up, baring her teeth in anger.
She looked like a bristling little wild cat.
And when Ariel—who had a powerful teacher and had raided ancient ruins multiple times, making her quite well-traveled—saw the appearance of this "little wild cat," she couldn't help but suck in a breath of cold air.
One word: Flat.
Too flat.
She never expected that after surviving countless crises and dangers, she would encounter someone in a place like this who was her equal in terms of being... "broad-chested."
For a moment, Ariel felt a surge of kindred spirit...
Wait, no... Ariel suddenly snapped out of it.
I can't say that. I'm not on that "team" right now!
"If you hadn't come up with such a stupid... would I have been forced into this hellhole? I'm supposed to be angry right now!"
The "Little Wild Cat" glared fiercely at the languid girl, as if she wanted to use her gaze to slice right through the other girl's much more substantial chest.
Of course, even the fiercest glare was wasted on a blind person. The "Little Wild Cat" huffed, then turned to glance at Ariel’s chest with a hint of displeasure.
"Nian," she said coldly.
"Feifei," the languid girl added.
"...Oh, uh, hello."
Ariel, feeling like something was slightly off, dithered for a moment before greeting them back.
"My name is... Yali."