The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 342: Chapter 356 Tricked

The three returned to the bustling hall, where, after shelling out ninety Gold Coins, they finally tasted the fine wine from Shendiravir—a premium product. Thirty Gold Coins a glass would be an inconceivable price in the Prime Material Plane, but it wasn’t much in the Abyss. It was the labor-intensive products that were exceptionally precious here.

They sat there for quite a while, hearing many interesting rumors. For instance, the mercenaries seemed to think that the Demons had a better chance of winning in the upcoming war, but they were not excited about it. It wasn’t that these ruffians had any sympathy for the forces of good (they did not); rather, they were worried that once the Demons scored a decisive victory, there would be no use for them as mercenaries anymore.

Under Acheron’s guidance, Lancelot also paid close attention to the news about the rogue Zoel Elf being hunted by his kin. His name was Kamoen, and he used to be a regular here, completing quite a few challenging assignments; he was a top-notch assassin. However, he never worked with others, always preferring solitude, so now nobody knew where he had hidden.

The mercenaries had already placed bets on whether this lone wolf of an assassin could survive against his kin, who were familiar with him. According to the betting lines, less than ten percent believed in the Zoel Elf—the danger of an assassin comes from their unpredictability. You don’t know who will come for you, when they’ll strike, or how they will attack, allowing an assassin to always find an opportunity.

But the hunting party of Zoel Elves hailed from Kamoen’s own family; they were well aware of the assassin’s past and had made thorough preparations. The hunted assassin was also prey, unlikely to stir up much trouble against the encirclement of the hunters, especially as it was rumored that the hunting party included high-rank priests of Rose, and even those who detested Dark Elves couldn’t deny the power of the Spider Queen (or Demon Queen).

Although he didn’t ask outright, Acheron’s look silently confirmed to Lancelot that this Kamoen was indeed the spy they had failed to meet. But Lancelot had to accept the fact that he was unlikely to obtain any useful information here since everyone was searching for this Dark Elf.

As time went on, the club’s atmosphere started to worsen. Many of the mercenaries were severe paranoiacs who refused to take off their armor, thus having no truck with the likes of bathing. But alcohol induced sweating, emitting a pungent stench, and it also made the mercenaries’ nerves edgy and impulsive.

A few jealous mercenaries began hurling insults at each other over a scantily-clad Succubus, while others seemed to be anticipating a brawl like a festive event. The three of them did not wish to be entangled in another bar fight, and since staying any longer seemed futile, they decided to leave via the corridor they had entered from.

“What do we do now?” Back on the open streets, Bruto couldn’t wait to ask, “Do we head back first, or do we go straight for that Kamoen?”

“Acheron, what do you think?” Lancelot asked the opinion of another member of their party, “Do you think it’s likely that he’s been exposed?”

“At first, I was worried that something untoward had happened to him. Clearly, that’s not the case. Though I am concerned for my Dark Elf friend, I have faith in his abilities,” replied the Elf Prince with a shake of his head. “He’s not so easily discovered, and it’s improper for us to rashly seek him out. That could easily put us all in danger.”

“Understood,” Lancelot nodded, “let’s head back for now.”

Despite not being fully familiar with the city, finding their way back to the inn wasn’t difficult; they just had to head towards the central plaza.

After turning several street corners, Lancelot’s expression suddenly changed. He did not stop walking, but he spoke to Bruto and Acheron using a technique of covert communication:

“Stay alert, there’s something amiss.”

The impetuous Bruto stopped in his tracks as he heard the words, about to ask a question, but he found that his mouth was only opening and closing silently, without producing any sound.

“Don’t make a sound, keep walking.” Lancelot’s voice once again rose next to the Dwarf’s ear, “I know what you want to ask—the people leaping on the eaves… Don’t look up! They don’t know they’ve been discovered yet, but they’re probably not after us.”

Lancelot was speaking to both Bruto and Acheron, who had recovered from their initial panic. They nodded lightly to show their understanding and then, inconspicuously, tilted their chins up slightly while trying to glance upwards with their eyes.

It was a night without a moon, with dim light leaking from the narrow windows of those grim towers, providing faint illumination for the dirty streets. Fortunately, all three had excellent dark vision and quickly spotted the rapidly moving figures not far above.

Despite the distance of over fifty feet, they recognized the silver hair fluttering, identifying the figures as a group of Zoel Elves. Acheron had always been masquerading as a Zoel, but apart from appearances, his movements were but a poor imitation of these distant relatives.

These true Dark Elves moved silently across the rooftops, running and leaping like a group of spiders, swift and yet with the crispness of a hunter. As Lancelot had surmised, these Zoel Elves’ target was indeed not the trio themselves; something was urgently calling to them.

“Looks like it’s none of our business,” Bruto whispered in the lowest volume his Dwarf throat would allow, “We go our way, let them go theirs?”

But Lancelot’s brows furrowed, the sight of these Dark Elves reigniting a sense of familiarity within him—was it because of Acheron? No, not him—it was someone else…who could it be?

Suddenly, a flash of spiritual light crossed Lancelot’s mind—it was the Goblin informant! He had felt a strange familiarity with the Goblin’s figure at that time, which actually stemmed from Acheron’s clumsy imitation of Zoel gait. However, because the latter’s imitation was so fallible, it wasn’t until he saw the real Zoel Elves that Lancelot connected the dots.

“Acheron, does that Kamoen know your disguise skills?”

“Ah?” The Elven Ranger was taken aback, “Those skills were taught to me by him…”

“Damn!” Lancelot rarely cursed, “That Goblin informant was Kamoen in disguise, we’ve been fooled!”

“What?” Acheron exclaimed in shock, “But why would he… deceive us?”

“Go ask him yourself,” Lancelot abruptly quickened his pace, with the faint sound of clashing weapons beginning to drift on the wind, “Let’s hope he’s alive to answer your questions.”

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