Witch Monastery

Chapter 396 396: Malena’s Situation

As an information broker, Daevyl's greatest taboo was an intel leak—especially if someone else mastered a situation before he did. And if that "someone" had learned the precise whereabouts of his current hideout—without his say so—that was enough to make him seriously uneasy.

His anxiety spiked, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. He muttered to himself, "If it were anyone else, knowing this much would be outrageous and really worrying. But if it's him, well… that's normal, I guess."

Think about it: Charles was the kind of guy who could get hold of secrets Daevyl had never told another soul. So him knowing where Daevyl lived was oddly normal.

No reason to panic—worst case, he'd just make friends with Charles.

Consoling himself, he gradually relaxed, then looked up at Yagra. "Bring him in. Whatever it is, we'll talk in detail here."

Yagra exited, and before long, Charles strode into the living room in his black priest's robes.

Daevyl rushed over in his slippers, his smile enthusiastic and fake as can be. "Now that's a rare guest! Lord Charles, to think you'd remember a nobody like me—I'm deeply honored!"

He poured on the enthusiasm, but Charles didn't have the patience for pleasantries today. "Let's get down to business, Daevyl. You've got intel on Shapiro Cassalanter, right?"

"Oh?" Daevyl paused, eyes flickering.

How did he know I'd been dealing with Shapiro all this time, even trying to form an alliance with him?

Just how much did he really know?

Daevyl's mind whirled, especially after Charles had tracked him to his secret home address. A hundred possibilities flashed through his thoughts. "Yes… I've maintained ties with him, so I do have a lot of his info."

Charles's eyes lit up. "Great. So you must also know where he's been lately and what he's been up to, right?"

Daevyl nodded approvingly. "You really are well-informed. Mithral District even put a gag order on that news, but you still caught wind of it almost as fast as I did."

Charles blinked, thinking: What the heck did Shapiro do now to make the Mithral District seal the news?

Crap, he didn't just cause trouble right when I needed him, did he? I hope he hasn't vanished on me now…

His heart thudded, but he managed to sound calm: "I just heard vague rumors, and my noble friends are being cagey."

"I know your intel's way better than mine. I'm hoping to see the whole picture from another angle."

Daevyl already assumed Charles was fully in the loop and here for that very reason, so he didn't suspect for a moment that Charles was actually fishing for info: "Let me explain. In short: on the day of Ammalia Cassalanter's execution, this guy broke in, knocked out the execution squad, and then…"

Charles's pupils narrowed—a gnawing sense of dread nearly bursting from his chest—but Daevyl went on: "He personally finished the job, beheaded her. When reinforcements arrived, the woman's blood had already drained dry."

Charles let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. For a second there, he'd feared Shapiro might actually have joined forces with House Cassalanter, and that angel was Mephistopheles's subordinate after all.

Thank goodness, it seemed Shapiro just vented a personal grudge—he hadn't fallen in with those guys.

Thinking this, he heard Daevyl say, "That's all the intel I've got. What did you hear on your end?"

Charles snapped back and weighed the nobles' usual way with rumors before shrugging, "Nothing much. They claim Ammalia Cassalanter was executed as planned, but some say Shapiro Cassalanter raided the execution and used a body double to rescue her."

"Sounds pretty outrageous, so I figured I'd check in with you."

Daevyl nodded. "That story is outrageous—pastors checked the corpse. It was definitely that fat woman."

Charles exhaled, and thinking of Shapiro's revenge-driven mindset, felt a tinge of panic—worried the guy would go too far and force Vajra herself to take him out. "I need to know where Shapiro is. How can I find him, as quickly and accurately as possible?"

Daevyl paused, meeting Charles's gaze. He didn't press for a reason. Instead, another kind of calculation raced through his thoughts.

He needs me.

Hiss… No matter the outcome, snitching on Shapiro now meant giving up a hard-won informant.

If I'm going to sell out a valuable asset—what could I get in return?

His mind worked at lightning speed, and considering Charles's current level of power, a bold idea formed.

"How much? Name your price," Charles said.

Daevyl's eyes narrowed. He let his lips curl into a sly smile: "I don't need money, Count Charles. But I want a favor from you."

Charles's pupils contracted. For him, any problem money could solve wasn't a problem at all—he could always borrow from the blue dragons. Favors, though—those were a pain.

He clenched his fist and locked eyes with the Sun Elf. "Say it. I'll see if I can do it."

Daevyl nodded. "I want you to sabotage Golden Dragon Bank. Here, in South Harbor District."

"Oh, don't get me wrong—I'm not asking you to go head-to-head with their entire conglomerate. But I can give you some insider info to help you make them eat a little dirt."

He grinned, cold. "Isn't it all 'free trade'? Fine, let them have a taste of 'freedom' themselves!"

...

Leaving Daevyl Starsong's house, Charles felt like the whole thing had been surreal. Even his stride was light, almost floating.

What just happened?

I asked Daevyl to help me find someone, and as payment, I'm supposed to use Daevyl's inside info to make a fat profit off the gold dragonborn?

Playing both sides?

How… how did this happen…?

For just a moment, Charles had a strange flashback to early World War II and the enviable position of the Americans.

Not that he had time to enjoy it—Ruth's injuries still weighed heavy on his heart. He shook off the distraction and made his way back to the monastery to resume his spell research.

He was speeding up his own plans: if he could master the 6th-level spell "Tasha's Otherworldly Guise" and then get Sophia to cast Haste on him, maybe he'd have a chance even against a lightning-fast angel!

While Charles plotted revenge and continued investigating the angel, somewhere distant and dark, Malena slowly awoke from magical sleep.

The spell "Charm Person" really didn't last long; to keep her under, Sulpharlo had forced her into a deep sleep after.

So it was just now, at last, that Malena finally woke—and immediately realized she was somewhere unfamiliar, not at home. Instead, she found herself in a room that was both exotic and eerie.

Where am I?

She looked around. It was a dim, small room, lit only by a minor ever-bright pearl in the ceiling. She was still wearing her familiar wheat-gold pajamas, but was lying on a massive bed with some mystery fiber softer than anything she'd known as a child.

A luxurious lavender blanket embroidered with spiderweb patterns in white silk covered her. The mural on the nearby wall was a masterpiece: a creature with the upper body of a white-haired, red-eyed, black-skinned dark elf and the lower body of a giant purple spider. It grinned menacingly, crushing a helpless human beneath one foot, longsword in hand ready to strike.

The sight filled Malena with terror—she curled up tight instinctively. At the same time, she sniffed and caught the unmistakable musty dampness of a place long shut away from sunlight.

Looking closer, she realized: there were no windows here. The place was perfectly cleaned, but she could tell—this was a basement. She'd just never imagined a basement so lavishly decorated.

Why… Why am I here?

That question surfaced instantly. As the memories of last night came flooding back, she slowly pieced together what had happened.

Oh! That's right—a mysterious angel broke down my door, spoke an incantation, and I…I totally lost my senses, even picked up Lisa and was about to go with her…

The recollection filled her with dread.

Thank goodness—thank goodness that Sister Theresa managed to snatch Lisa away at the last second—or the consequences would've been unthinkable.

Fear and relief mingled. Malena patted her chest, took a few deep breaths to steady herself, and tried to figure out her next step.

That angel said she's my ancestor. So…she must be the one who gave Shapiro his power?

Why did she take me? Does she want me in her revenge plot?

But I don't have any combat talents at all…

Her mind swirled with panicked speculation, when suddenly the door opened. A familiar yet strange female voice called out: "Hey, you're awake? Looks like your physical condition is even sturdier than I expected."

Malena snapped her head up, and there she was—the very same angel who'd brought her here the night before, standing in the doorway, smiling at her.

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