When the foxkin mentioned that divine artifact the Brotherhood had lost for who knew how many years, the eyes of everyone around him lit up.
A divine artifact lost for so many years, searched for by the Assassination Hall for countless springs and autumns...
...could actually be in the hands of a few seemingly unremarkable 'kids'?
It sounded almost impossible.
But, compared to the alternative of 'them crossing the Wailing Corridor with only Low-tier Transcendent strength'...
...this guess actually seemed exceptionally 'plausible.'
The hall fell into a brief moment of contemplation. The light and shadow of the torches flickered across everyone's faces.
Someone muttered in a low voice:
“How did that story go again...?”
“The first Hero's divine artifact, the Sword of the Goddess of Light...”
“...wasn't it also said that he picked it up from a trash heap in his hometown?”
“And then the goddess inside the sword guided him through all his battles, eventually defeating the Demon God...”
Although this was nothing more than a fairy tale to coax children,
...the probability of 'picking up a divine artifact' didn't seem to be absolutely zero.
And this tiny probability,
...in the hearts of everyone present at this moment,
...was silently skyrocketing out of control.
After all, no one wanted to truly admit,
...that those strangers, whom they viewed as 'rookies,'
...had actually relied on their own strength to easily conquer the eternal terror known as the Wailing Corridor, a place they themselves viewed as an impassable chasm.
Unlike the others who were only concerned with preserving their pride,
the foxkin's narrow eyes gleamed with undisguised excitement and shrewdness.
Opposite him, Morpheus's mind was also racing,
his finger tapping unconsciously on the tabletop.
“Lord Morpheus,”
the foxkin spoke, lowering his voice even further.
“I heard from my subordinates' reports...”
“...that among those three humans, one claims to be Roger's nephew.”
“He came to Avalon to find... a place of refuge for his companion?”
Morpheus's blood-red eyes flickered slightly, and he nodded.
“You want to...”
The foxkin nodded immediately, the cunning in his eyes deepening.
“Make good use of this connection.”
“Let them feel Avalon's 'warmth' and 'acceptance.'”
“Especially that demon elf descendant of the Demon King.”
“And then...”
He dragged out his words.
“...find a way to identify the true owner of that divine artifact.”
In the corner of the hall, a human warrior who had remained silent all this time couldn't help but speak up:
“Are we going to kill them and steal the treasure?”
“But that goes against the very philosophy on which we founded Avalon...”
“What do you mean, kill and steal!”
The foxkin interrupted him snappishly.
“I mean we use a soft approach!”
He flicked his tail.
“Doesn't he want his companion to join Avalon?”
“Then let her join.”
“Let her take root here and grow to love this place.”
He looked around at everyone, offering a sly smile.
“And then...”
“...trick him into believing that Avalon is currently facing a catastrophe,”
“...and will be destroyed before long.”
The foxkin's voice was soft and clear:
“Out of concern for his companion's future,”
“...the one who possesses the divine artifact will willingly...”
“...'lend' that potentially existing divine artifact to us.”
“Good idea.”
A flash of decisiveness crossed Morpheus's blood-red eyes.
“We'll do exactly as you say.”
He stood up, seemingly prepared to issue orders immediately.
“Wait.”
The foxkin hastily stopped him.
“Too many people shouldn't know about this.”
“The more who know, the easier it is to blow our cover.”
The foxkin's eyes flickered as he lowered his voice:
“Besides, dealing with that half-demon elf is actually very simple.”
“We only need to... lift the restrictions on her.”
“And let the residents of Avalon 'automatically' accept her.”
Hearing this, Morpheus hesitated slightly.
“But her identity as a descendant of the Demon King has already been exposed by me in public.”
He shook his head.
“The residents of Avalon are not entirely without prejudice toward the Demon Race.”
“The only ones they accept are those of Lord Gusion's lineage.”
“As for other demons...”
His tone sank.
“...the prejudice remains very deep.”
“Especially over the years, they have heard too much—”
“...too many rumors about other demons wanting to kill Lord Gusion, seize the Demon King Pillar, and inherit the throne.”
“So...”
Morpheus did not finish,
...but his meaning was already clear.
To get Avalon's residents on board, they first had to resolve the issue of her identity as a descendant of the Demon King.
This was indeed a difficult problem.
But it was nothing to the foxkin, who was renowned for his cunning.
The foxkin let out a sly chuckle, his tail swaying gently.
“I heard that the descendant of the Demon King... has white hair.”
He spoke unhurriedly, a glint in his eyes.
“Among the subject clans of the Seventy-Two Pillar Demon Kings, white hair is exceptionally rare.”
He paused, looking at Morpheus.
“And as it happens, our Lord Gusion...”
“...is also a white-haired Demon King.”
The foxkin did not finish his sentence,
...but everyone present immediately understood his meaning.
“Remember,” the foxkin said, putting away his smile and looking serious.
“Sincerity is the ultimate weapon.”
“Once falsehood is mixed in, not only is it easy to blow our cover, but it also makes things complicated.”
He looked around at the people present.
“Only the few of us can know about this plan.”
“Our actions must also be guided in secret.”
“We must absolutely not let our subordinates notice anything amiss.”
“What we need to do is create an atmosphere.”
“Let the residents 'discover' it on their own, and then believe it 'on their own'.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
They had no idea...
...that at this very moment, right above the roof of this hall,
...a certain little mage clad in the Shroud of the Gloomy Night was listening intently,
...hearing their entire plan crystal clear.
The meeting had gathered quickly and dispersed just as fast.
Morpheus gave a few final instructions, and everyone stood up to leave.
The horned beastkin half-demon, carrying his battleaxe, was the first to push open the door and walk out.
Several human warriors in leather armor followed closely behind, whispering to each other.
The foxkin stretched, lazily wagging his tail as he slowly strolled out the door.
Aenor the gnome, clutching his bronze mirror, kept his head down and vanished in a flash.
The hall quickly emptied out.
Lin Gui did not linger either.
He silently followed the last few people out.
Blending into the night, he left the City Lord's Manor.
Sitting sideways on his oak staff, he floated through Avalon's night sky.
A cool night breeze brushed against his face.
He had originally only come to scout the way and gather some intelligence.
Who would have thought he would obtain such a 'harvest'?
Sitting on his staff, Lin Gui's eyes held a complex mix of emotions.
He couldn't tell if it was annoyance or something else.
He just hadn't expected...
...that before he had even made a move, things seemed to be going in a positive direction.
And the reason was actually so... bizarre.
This wasn't the first time he had heard of 'the Brotherhood's concealment artifact.'
When he was heading to the Wall of Sighs, Fortress Lord Balin thought he possessed that artifact.
Later, when he met Roger, the latter suspected the same.
And even now.
The people of Avalon, due to the very same misunderstanding...
...were actually planning how to 'accept' them.
Only, Lin Gui hadn't expected...
...that this recurring misunderstanding...
...would actually, in such an unimaginable way, resolve his greatest current dilemma here in Avalon.
Was this... a two-way street?
He just hoped that tomorrow, Theia wouldn't be so shocked that she went into a panic response.
Rate on N.U.
