Bounty and Betrayal.

A group of men riding horses speed on a dirt road through a flat field. Wearing leather armor, these men are guards of the closest city, White Light.

It took Clide a week to get there, and a week to get back. Luckily there was a young noble who overheard him when he was reporting to the guards or it would have taken even longer. Upon hearing his report of a robot being detained in a small room by his boss, Belthor, the young noble rallied up the nearest available guards immediately, and set out to uphold justice.

Riding at the front of the group is a man fitted with gleaming golden armor, his blonde hair that reaches down to his shoulders, is blown back by the wind as he spurs his horse urging it to reach his destination quickly.

This is Myron Ryder, he had recently been losing his father's favor, so as soon as he heard the report of a demonic robot, he immediately took action. Whether or not this report is accurate or not he wanted to take the chance and deal with it personally.

The merit he would get for hunting down a rogue demon would be enough to gain his status back with his father, and then some! He might even be rewarded personally by the Governor!

Just thinking of the proud look on his father's face when he returns from this trip makes him shake with excitement. After all not everyone gets the chance to see a robot, let alone hunt one down! This is practically an opportunity sent by heaven just for him!

Before he can fall any deeper into his fantasies, they finally arrive at the entrance of the village. A large man, who has been waiting for their arrival, walks over to greet them.

"G... greetings, M'lord!"

Belthor was only expecting some normal city guards, seeing this youth with noble bearing and golden armor, he is caught totally off guard. He has never been to the city except when he was undergoing his blacksmith apprenticeship, even then he was never able to meet anyone of noble birth. He only knows the most basic etiquette, and can't afford to slight such a big character.

Myron sticks his nose up while looking around, not even sparing a glance at the poor blacksmith. One of the guards riding behind Myron speaks up instead.

"You must be the blacksmith who sent the report?"

Belthor nods his head shakily.

"Well? Can't you see the young noble who has graciously come here personally to help you solve your problem?! Why are you still standing?! Do you think you're of equal standing with the Church?!"

Even if Belthor wanted to offend the noble, he wouldn't dare disrespect the Church behind him. Nobles might not be much on their own, but they all have some kind of connection with the Church, the most powerful and mysterious group, and the founder of this nation!

Plop, Plop.

He dropped to his knees, face down in the dirt. Too afraid to even reply back, cold sweat starts to form on his back.

"Enough."

Just as Myron thought, even basic courtesy is too much to ask for in such a dirty, backwater place such as this.

"You said in the report that it was locked inside a room? Stand up quickly and show me to it."

As though granted a royal pardon Belthor got up, back bent in a servile manner, and guides them to his workshop.

Little did they know, a small bird had been flying above them ever since they reached the village, and their target has already started his escape.