The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 330: Chapter 344 Intelligence Work

Lancelot exchanged glances with his companions; this was not quite what they had anticipated. They had come here for a covert mission, and being recognized was not going to be a good thing.@@novelbin@@

“No need. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know my whereabouts.” Lancelot’s voice, speaking in a special way that blended True Yuan into it, filled his calm tone with suggestive meaning, “Could you do me this favor?”

“Of course, of course, a guest’s privacy is always of the utmost importance.” The goblin nodded repeatedly, hearing in Lancelot’s voice both a friendliness, as if the most trustworthy friend in the world spoke to him, and an undeniable threat, implying that a terrible punishment would follow any breach of confidence.

“We need to book a suite,” Acheron chimed in promptly, “one that takes up an entire floor.”

“No problem, please come this way.” The goblin bowed excessively to the group. “If you’d please move this way, esteemed guests…”

Moments later, Lancelot received a metal card the size of a palm, marked with the enchanted number 17, corresponding to their reserved floor. The magic on the card would expire after five days, for which they had paid with a Blue Tip Crystal worth five hundred Gold Coins. Naturally, the expense had been covered by Acheron as part of the operation’s budget.

At the other end of the hall was a narrow room, one wall of which featured three huge fireplace-like recesses. Guided by Acheron’s signals, Lancelot placed the newly acquired card on a stone pedestal in the center of the room.

The moment the card touched the pedestal, it flashed brightly. Then, the sound of rusted gears grinding filled their ears. Suddenly, the noise cleared, and a massive iron cage descended from the chimney above the leftmost ‘fireplace’, stopping in front of them.

“Oh no, not this again,” the Dwarf grumbled dissatisfiedly, “What’s wrong with these guys, what’s wrong with stairs…”

“It’s a very cunning design, don’t you think?” said the Elven Ranger with a chuckle, “If you were running a shop here, you’d also want to minimize encounters between guests. After all, handling corpses can be quite troublesome…”

Despite his vehement complaints, Bruto, along with the group, stepped onto the iron cage. They found another pull-ring, and moments later, they arrived at their own designated floor.

To say it was an entire floor was a bit grand; after all, it was just a tower. There was nothing but a fairly spacious living room and four bedrooms. The decor of this level catered to a blend of styles from Mortal Races like humans, Elves, Dwarves, and the like, clearly designed to cater to guests from the Material Plane. However, the extensive use of bone products made the mishmash of styles even more eerie.

“What do we do now?” The Dwarf immediately flung himself onto a sofa, but his expression gradually twisted, and, as if flames were licking at his seat, he leaped off the sofa, ranting, “For Moradin’s sake, what kind of hide is this?”

“Goblin,” Kalalin pointed towards a corner next to the sofa, “There’s a face there as well.”

Bruto exploded with a string of curses characteristic of Dwarves. Lancelot thought to himself that perhaps this was the innkeeper’s strange way of showing kindness. For many creatures from the lower planes, using the remains of their enemies was incredibly satisfying. And since Goblins were among the most despised races, using their hide shouldn’t pose any issue.

This was the case even though they had at least one Goblin staff member. The world was just too cruel to these weak and evil creatures.

“Sit on this for now,” Kalalin fetched him a chair. To judge by its appearance, the chair might have been made from the complete skeleton of an Orc, another unpopular race.

“I’d rather sit on the floor,” the Dwarf said, sitting cross-legged, “Let’s cut to the chase, I don’t want to stay here a minute longer…”

As they were to discuss the next step of their mission, Lancelot also pulled little Elothysia out of the Dimensional Bag. ‘Pulled’ might be inaccurate—in a non-emergency situation, Lancelot would first knock on the lid of the girl’s coffin to wake the slumbering Vampire, then ‘lead’ her out.

Another companion, still unconscious, showed no signs of improvement. Clone Well had been in a coma for three whole days with no sign of waking. Although it was clear that he wasn’t dead, Lancelot was starting to worry. After all, nobody understood the principle behind his life, and there was not much they could do. Lancelot could only hope that the skull’s self-healing ability was as miraculous as it claimed to be.

“It looks like we might be staying at this inn for several days,” the Elven Ranger began with the news the Dwarf least wanted to hear, “But looking on the bright side, it’s a lot better than the underground caves, at least. The air smells quite bearable, doesn’t it?”

“What the… What are we waiting for here?” Bruto’s tone was unusually calm for a Dwarf, perhaps he had spent all his energy ranting about the sofa, “Isn’t our goal to infiltrate the fortress outside the city? I saw it while we were in the birdcage, on the mountain to the east…”

“We’re groping in the dark right now. If we just go like this, the mission is likely to turn from infiltration into a full-blown assault. After all, it is a fortress, and I forgot to pack a trebuchet in my bag before we left,” Acheron shrugged, “We need to make contact with a Spy lurking here to get a clear picture of the situation…”

“You have a trebuchet that fits in a bag?” Bruto’s face lit up with excitement, “Do you use magic to shrink it, and then enlarge it when needed?”

“No, I don’t have one, so I didn’t bring it.” The Elf Prince rolled his eyes, “That was just a joke…”

“How are we going to contact these Spies?” Lancelot tried to steer the conversation back on track, “Where do we find them?”

“You’re overestimating our intelligence network—we don’t have them, there’s only him,” Acheron said with a wry smile, “And it’s not us who’ll find him, but he who will come to us. We’ll go to the city soon to look for his Emblem, leave a sign next to it using the agreed-upon codewords, then come back and wait for him to approach us.”

“I see,” Lancelot nodded, then asked with a touch of curiosity, “What kind of person is this Spy? Can he be trusted?”

“I trust him as much as you all trust Miss Elothysia,” the Elf replied, addressing only the second question, “It would be too conspicuous for all of us to move together. How about just the two of us go?”

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