Machinations

Just as he had the day before, Paul took Venti, Ghislaine, and Xinyan to have their equipment repaired before moving to the Adventurer's District to begin their bar crawl.

Seeing how diverse the Adventurer's District was, catering to Humans, Beast People, and even Demons, Venti couldn't help remarking, "Wow, things are a lot livelier here than they are over in the Commercial District. If I didn't know better, I might have thought Milishion was accepting of every race and culture."

"We can thank the Adventurer's Guild for that," said Paul. "Their power increased exponentially in the wake of the Laplace War. Becoming an Adventurer is also one of the only ways most people can rise above the poverty line and make a name for themselves in higher societies. If the Church attempted to strip away that freedom, they would lose many of their would-be faithful."

Completely ignoring Paul's remarks, Venti sniffed at the air, her usual smile broadening as she remarked, "I detect the scent of adventure~!"

Pulling Paul's hand, Venti attempted to whisk him away in the direction her nose had decreed. Instead, Paul stood his ground, a relaxed smile adorning his face as he stated, "No need to rush. It's not like the local taverns will have anything of a higher quality than the alcohol we keep in storage. Let's take things slow and enjoy ourselves."

Though she relented to Paul's slower pace, Venti felt obligated to state, "Quality isn't what makes alcohol worth drinking. Even the most watered-down liquors can warm the soul if the environment is lively."

Adopting a marginally wrier smile, Paul remarked, "Just be careful. The people in this world can be...opportunistic. I won't hesitate to do so, but I'd rather not have to beat the shit out of every man who sees you as an 'opportunity' rather than a person."

Sticking out her tongue, Venti teased, "It's because you're around that I have the confidence to act without inhibition. Don't you know that it's the privilege of beautiful maidens to have their knight in shining armor defend them~?"

Nodding in affirmation, Paul's smile softened as he replied, "Then that's what I'll do..." in a somewhat defeated tone. This wasn't the first time he and Venti had gone bar crawling. So long as he didn't allow her to wander off, there shouldn't be any major issues...

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While Paul was busy 'philandering' about, several hooded figures had gathered in a hidden location deep beneath the streets of Milishion. Most wore featureless white masks to conceal their identities, so the two that didn't belong stood out even more. The first was a ghastly-looking man with sunken eyes and a sickly complexion. He wore an eyepatch over his right eye, but his most striking feature was his seemingly perpetual smile. It was much broader than the average smile, so anyone who beheld it had the distinct impression the man was crazy.

Contrasting the man, though striking in her own way, the second figure was a fairly petite woman with crimson hair and red eyes. Her lithe frame was garbed in a black bodysuit, but her most prominent features were her curved, distinctly demonic horns, her crimson gauntlets, the collar around her neck, and the spear-like sword in her right hand.

Maintaining his perennial smile, the skull-faced man remarked, "Well, isn't this unusual? Even if it's thin, my bloodline is that of the Immortal Demon King. As members of the Demon-Expulsion Faction, don't you consider it a little 'heretical' to request my services? And not just mine, but one of the Succubi you loathe so vehemently..."

Representing the masked congregation, a deep-voiced man replied, "We did not invite you here to make conversation. Your target is Paul Greyrat, Special Envoy to the Asura Kingdom. His slights against the Holy Church and the Milishion Royal Family cannot go unpunished."

Crossing his arms, the skull-faced man mused, "Hooooo~? That kid has a knack for pissing off people in positions of power. I've received more than twenty requests for his head in just the past two years. It's a shame I can only collect a single bounty..."

Seemingly ignoring the skull-faced man's statement, the leader of the masked congregation expressed, "The Greyrat Houses are known for their vulnerability against Succubi. The two of you will work together to ensure the success of this mission. Failure isn't an option."

Furrowing her brows, the red-haired Succubus said, "I want seventy percent of my payment in advance..." in a cold yet strangely resonant voice.

Piggybacking off the Succubi's statement, the skull-faced man said, "I'll have to agree with the red-headed lass on this one. You people are pretty notorious for backstabbing your own. If you can't pay my fee up front, I'm afraid I'll have to wash my hands of this matter."

Originating from the other hooded figures gathered, a deep and feminine voice stated, "Even if you're the Death God, Randolph Marianne, killing Paul Greyrat is no simple feat. We can't have you forsaking the mission midway and fleeing with such a substantial sum..."

Shifting his exposed, crimson-red eye to the masked woman, Randolph asked, "You would question the capabilities of the man Ranked 4th among the Seven Great Powers? I've memorized your voice, scent, and build. You would be wise to avoid making enemies in the future..."

Though Randolph didn't release any of his touki, his words were enough to cause the usually arrogant woman's legs to tremble. The Order of the Temple was filled with opportunists looking to elevate themselves at the expense of their 'comrades.' If one of them reached out to Randolph and commissioned him to assassinate her, there was nothing she could do but clean her neck.

Speaking out before the woman could think to apologize, the leader of the masked congregation said, "Our words are not an underestimation of your capabilities, but caution in regards to your target. Paul Greyrat isn't simply the youngest King-Ranked Swordsman in history. The companions he keeps with him are monsters in their own right. At the very least, we suspect that there are five Kings and potentially even an Emperor among his entourage..."

Raising his brows, Randolph mused, "That would certainly explain the reward you're offering. 5,000,000 Asuran Gold Coins is the kind of price you'd offer for the head of the Pope or the Asuran King. You must think this kid's a serious threat if you want him dead that badly."

Hearing Randolph mention a commission fee of 5,000,000 AGC, the red-haired Succubi's brow twitched. She was only being offered 50,000 AGC for her services, so while she would never compare herself to the literal 'Death God,' the disparity in their remunerations left a bitter taste in her mouth...

Instead of responding to Randolph's probing, the leader of the masked congregation stated, "We have already made arrangements to have your reward transported to the Dragon King Kingdom via teleportation. Unless you possess a spatial storage device, transporting 140,000kgs of gold on your person might prove difficult..."

Rubbing his chin, the smile on Randolph's face broadened as he mused, "Fair point. However, considering the vast wealth of the Holy Kingdom of Milis, I'm certain you have at least one or two spare storage artifacts collecting dust somewhere. Place at least half the funds inside one and bring it to me within the next seventy-two hours. If this Paul Greyrat is half as dangerous as you make him out to be, I'll be imperiling the entire Dragon King Kingdom by openly antagonizing him. Two-and-a-half-million is a small price to pay for that."

Though the sounds of people grumbling and clicking their tongues could be heard throughout the chamber, the leader of the masked congregation only hesitated for a brief moment before answering, "We will agree on two conditions. First and foremost, Paul Greyrat cannot learn it was the Order of the Temple that hired you. If you are defeated and questioned, you are to implicate the First Prince of the Asura Kingdom. Furthermore, until Paul Greyrat has been killed, you will not target or accept commissions to slay a member of our Order. Are we in agreement?"

Adopting what could best be described as a murderous smile, Randolph replied, "Sure, why not~?" in a non-committal tone. He only really cared about killing powerful opponents, so losing out on the chance to slaughter a bunch of feeble clergymen and women wasn't a great loss.

"Then it's settled," said the leader of the masked congregation. However, before he could dismiss the gathering, the red-headed Succubus said, "I want the full 50,000 upfront. Compared to the 2.5 million you're offering my 'associate,' 50,000 is a fairly paltry sum."

Though their faces were concealed by masks, the red-headed Succubus could feel the hatred exuding from nearly everyone present. Fortunately, she wasn't alone. If she had been, there was a decent probability that the assembly would have turned on her right there and then.

Raising his hand to silence the congregation, the leader of the masked assembly waited until everyone had fallen silent before answering, "You will have your payment. However, should you fail in your task, know that our 'hounds' will hunt you to the ends of the earth. Not even that Queen of yours would be able to protect you..."

Resisting the urge to snort through her nose, the red-headed Succubus asserted, "No Succubus has ever lost to a member of the Greyrat Houses. If this Paul Greyrat is anything like his ancestors, Sir Death God might not even need to act..."

Amused by the Succubi's claim, a raspy, bone-chilling chuckle emanated from Randolph's throat. Fortunately, while her words could be seen as undermining his usefulness, the infamous Death God didn't take them to heart. After all, if Paul was so inept that he was done in by someone stuck at the Advanced Rank of the North God Style, he simply wasn't worth the effort of killing personally...

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After a lively but otherwise uneventful day, Paul was forced to carry the drunken and incredibly clingy Venti in his arms while Xinyan and Ghislaine followed close behind.

Seemingly oblivious to the disturbance she was causing, Venti puckered up her lips and said, "Gib me a kiss~" before seizing the initiative to steal Paul's lips. The taste of alcohol was pervasive within her saliva, but Paul didn't mind, obliging the overly affectionate Archon until she released him to giggle and catch her breath.

Adopting a wry but affectionate smile, Paul said, "We're almost at the Inn. If you want a 'proper' reward, you'll behave yourself until then..."

Puffing out her cheeks, Venti looked like she was about to complain but ultimately started laughing. She may have consumed her body weight in alcohol, but she wasn't actually intoxicated. Thus, as there were quite a few women Paul could turn to if she decided to be difficult, she decided to curl up and nestle against his chest for the remainder of the trip.

Kissing the top of Venti's head, Paul said, "Good girl," before returning his focus to his surroundings. There had been a number of people observing him and his group throughout the day, so he was on high alert despite the relaxed smile on his face.

Fortunately, while Paul's group was being monitored, they weren't without protection. Lynette and Shinobu had been shadowing them the entire day, and several of the people monitoring them were doing so at the behest of the Order of the Church and the Order of Instruction. The Pope and many of the Archbishops wanted to avoid another incident like what occurred at the White Palace, so they had nearly a hundred men keeping tabs on both Paul and the people tailing him...

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(A/N: The emergence of the Death God O_O...)