"Hey, is that old guy the butler?"
The three were currently hunkered down in a narrow alleyway not far from Lord Camo's mansion, keeping a close watch on the perimeter. Cole suddenly noticed a white-haired old man, dressed immaculately and wearing a look of distinct arrogance, stepping out from a side door. He immediately nudged his two companions.
Krith and Derrick followed the direction of Cole's finger.
"White hair, handlebar mustache, arrogant temperament, looks middle-aged but with those drooping, 'hang-man' eyes... yeah, that's him!"
Derrick lowered his head to cross-reference the sight with the intelligence they had painstakingly gathered from certain local women. After all, the butler was usually the one who made the arrangements for Camo's "guests."
"Follow him. I don't know where he's going, but my gut tells me this will be a major lead."
"Understood."
Derrick and Cole nodded in unison; they felt the same way.
After a period of tailing him, the three soon realized that the Lord's butler was gradually making his way toward the outskirts of town.
"What now? Do we follow him out?" Derrick frowned, looking at his two colleagues.
The other two also knit their brows. They didn't have a clear answer. They had worked quite hard to sneak into the town in the first place; now that martial law was in effect, if they followed the butler out, getting back in wouldn't be a simple task.
"One person follows him out. The other two stay in the city to monitor the situation."
"Fine. But who goes?"
"I'll do it," Krith interjected, taking the task upon himself. He didn't trust these two "dimwits" to handle it. If he let them go, something was bound to go wrong.
As for whether leaving those two alone in the city would cause problems...
Maybe. Probably. Hopefully not...
He told himself he needed to have more faith in his comrades. After all, they were warriors personally chosen by the Sovereign, so they had to be useful for something.
Comforting himself with these thoughts, Krith began to follow the butler, though he couldn't help but look back over his shoulder every few steps.
"Be careful while you're in the city. Everything is for the Sovereign!"
"Everything for the Sovereign!"
"Hmm?"
"Lord Mohg, what is it?"
Liana noticed Mohg suddenly stop what he was doing and gaze toward a specific direction. She spoke up, her voice filled with curiosity.
"One of the three I sent into Toriland Town has started moving. Judging by the distance, he'll be leaving the town shortly."
"Is that a good thing?" Liana asked.
"Perhaps. At the very least, we can get some information from him," Mohg replied in an enigmatic tone. While constructing the Blood Pool, he had performed a small experiment using Liana, testing the mental transmission he had used on the "Three Stooges."
He had discovered that the information transmitted midway was prone to corruption or gaps—both in what he sent and what was received. Consequently, he hadn't tried to message the trio directly to ask about the situation inside Toriland, fearing another "beautiful misunderstanding."
Now that one of them was coming out, it was perfect; he could question the man face-to-face.
"Do you need me to send men over?"
"Just send Horuff."
Mohg turned his gaze toward Horuff, who was currently standing guard.
The construction of a stable Blood Pool was primarily handled by Mohg himself, with assistance from Liana and others who understood incantation lore. As for pure warriors like Horuff... once they had finished contributing their blood to the pit, there wasn't much left for them to do.
Thus, Mohg had him serve as a sentry to ensure their ritual wasn't interrupted.
"Lord Mohg, what are your orders?" Horuff dropped to one knee, speaking with deep reverence.
"I need you to follow the guidance of this token to find a comrade to the north. Assist him in whatever he is doing, but most importantly, bring him and the intelligence he holds back to me."
"By your command. I shall not fail!"
Horuff lowered his head sharply as he accepted the mission and the token Mohg handed him. The token contained a fragment of Mohg's spiritual power; it would grow warm when it was near the intended person.
"Go. Be swift."
"Yes!"
Horuff acknowledged the order and vanished into the darkness like a black shadow, heading at full speed toward Krith's location.
"This direction... I remember this leads toward Scariland. Is he going there for reinforcements? But it's a bit far for that..."
Krith frowned as he watched the butler mount a horse and prepare to head north.
He shook his head. It didn't matter where the man was going; the moment he was far enough from Toriland and deep within the forest, Krith would strike. If he waited until the man cleared the woods, he might not be able to catch him on horseback.
"Traveling without a single guard, though... he's either incredibly overconfident or he's hiding a trump card."
Krith quickened his pace to keep up, but he couldn't help the nagging doubt in his mind. In his experience, the butler of a Lord with such a vast territory wouldn't be weak. He had to be cautious.
Only the prudent lived long lives.
As time passed, Krith followed the butler to the edge of the forest. The butler gradually slowed his horse; although there was a path ahead, the trees were dense. It was safer to move slowly to avoid being unhorsed by a low-hanging branch.
Furthermore, this area had already been cleared by the guards, so he wasn't particularly worried about bandits or demi-humans.
"Sigh... I have to go see that damned Remoke again. What rotten luck..."
Mounted atop his horse, Richter couldn't help but curse as he thought of the acerbic and eccentric mage. Every time he visited, he was subjected to the man's biting sarcasm and mockery. Sometimes, the mage would even cast minor spells on him just to watch him make a fool of himself.
His mood soured just thinking about it, but he had no choice. Remoke was a sorcerer with deep ties to the Toriland family; the two parties were mutually dependent.
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (306 Chapters – Ongoing)
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