Within the royal palace of Vizima, Triss was stunned as she let go of her hand enveloped in magic power.
Keira curled up in a chair behind her, lacking the lazy indifference she had when she first met Lann.
Instead, she was biting her nails, looking anxious.
The name Prinslav Steza truly frightened her.
Logically speaking, the power that he demonstrated in their initial investigation was rare across all of Temeria.
Yet the reason the two female warlocks never considered him was... if it truly was him, it would be a monumental affair.
The worst outcome always makes people subconsciously avoid it.
Therefore, when the worst outcome arrives, it always catches people off guard.
"How did he respond?" Keira asked anxiously. "When is he leaving?"
Triss stood in the magic circle, dumbfounded and stunned.
"He said he... won’t leave."
"Not leaving?!" Keira shot up from her chair.
"Why? Money? Fame? What does a Demon Hunter want with those things!? Doesn’t he want to live!"
"It’s not for money, nor for fame, he said it’s... for his own happiness."
"Happiness? He’s crazy! This person is completely insane!"
Biting her nails, Keira paced back and forth beside the chair.
"No! This must be an excuse. He absolutely wants more! He’s a Demon Hunter, he’s spent his life chasing money, how could he not want it?!"
"Damn it! This time we’ve handed him a way to blackmail us; we need to feed him enough to make him shut up and leave. Otherwise, if Steza finds out we’ve actually tracked it back to him, there’s no hope for us to retire as Royal Advisors! We’ll end up poisoned someday!"
Saying this, Keira hurried towards her laboratory, intending to gather more money to make Lann leave Vizima quietly.
Triss stared blankly at her retreating figure.
Rationally, she agreed with Keira’s assumption; she had lived for decades and had never encountered such a person.
No desire for money, no desire for power, not even the most elusive fame.
Just for the sake of personal pleasure, he would seek justice from the most powerful Count in the land?
How could there be such reasoning?
How could there be such a person?
Yet emotionally, she couldn’t help but feel... that man was serious.
He truly wants to kill a Count for the sake of a few unnoticed civilian children!
Triss wrapped her hand in magic power.
Should she, too, follow the rational thought and distance herself from Lann like Keira?
In the Royal Advisor’s laboratory, Triss was caught in a dilemma.
Meanwhile, in one of the most expansive estates in Vizima’s trade district, the handsome middle-aged man — Count Prinslav Steza.
Had finally confirmed that his trusted "good dog" from Skellige, had likely fallen last night.
"Interesting, Morgan, come over here."
Count Steza sat in his study, handling today’s affairs.
The first item on his desk was that Ubank left last night with armor and an authorization order to mobilize the guards, and has since not returned.
Steza had always been comfortable using Ubank.
This descendent of a dog trainer from Skellige truly treated himself as the Count’s hunting dog.
He clearly knew what kind of hunting dog would please his master, so he naturally gravitated towards that point.
Gentle when required, fierce when necessary.
Hard-working, but never should leave the nest without cause.
Each rule in training a hunting dog, he performed better than the dogs themselves.
Thus, when the Count found out his dog hadn’t returned, he was certain Ubank was dead.
The estate’s butler walked into the study with great propriety.
He wore a tight-fitting outfit, with fabric wrapping his calves and forearms tight, and puffed sleeves on his thighs and upper arms, which were fashionable at the time.
"What are your orders, my lord?"
A nobleman’s butler often has a certain restraint.
This restraint doesn’t stem from their own will, but to make their master feel better.
Commanding a restrained person to serve is far more gratifying than having a sycophant perform a task.
While handling the papers on the desk, Steza casually ordered.
"Any news about Ubank?"
"I believe he is dead, my lord."
Steza’s butler, Morgan, was of the same judgment as his master.
"I know he’s likely dead, but who killed him? That was twenty-seven people with armor, plus two fierce hunting dogs. I’m very interested in who or whom could kill these people."
"That would be a Demon Hunter, my lord."
Without a moment’s hesitation, the butler easily deduced from Ubank’s recent behavior.
"They delivered a beaten Demon Hunter last night, now thrown in the basement. Ubank had also warned you before that a relentless Demon Hunter was coming to Vizima. I think they were slain after sending over this Demon Hunter."
"Oh? Just one person?"
Hearing this, Steza paused slightly in his actions, interested as he raised his head.
"Are these mutants really that formidable? I recall the Demon Hunter who rescued Yada, though indeed capable, was still slashed open at the throat by a young girl’s fingernails. What was the behavior of the one captured?"
"After being shot by a crossbow, he behaves no differently than a regular person."
At this point, Steza’s interest vanished.
The crossbow wounds act no different than on a regular person, which to him held no value nor posed a threat.
As long as he desired, the crossbows he summoned could rain down arrows like a tempest.
Both filthy and despicable.
No need to waste effort on their differences with ordinary people, tainting his sight.
But to reach this level of being, disdainful as he was, he would make appropriate preparations.
"Ubank was indeed skilled, but it would be wise to heed whoever brought him down. Morgan, identify the truly threatening Demon Hunter, and provide me with their details."
The butler bowed in assent and added a question.
"Should we enhance the estate’s defense levels?"
Steza didn’t even lift his head.
"Morgan, Morgan, you’re blowing this out of proportion."
"This estate alone boasts forty warriors in full-plate armor, and another hundred fifty proficient fighters in standard armor. There are always thirty watching over the basement, constantly rotating. Even if Veltrest lost his mind and led the city defense forces to attack, guess how long this estate would hold?"
Butler Morgan bowed in reply.
"My lord, every expansion of the estate I attended, it was designed precisely for the scenario you described. Without siege machinery, we could withstand at least a week."
Lord Earl waved his hand dismissively as if shooing away pesky but harmless flies.
"It’s merely a Demon Hunter. What, would he overturn the heavens? Perhaps now, he’s already running away from Vizima like a stray dog..."