The Tavern Trap and Elysia’s Training

Adrian and Ilisia had already emerged from the tavern.

They had changed their clothes and mounted their horses, a faint scent of blood still clinging to them.

“How did you know Gray and his group would definitely be at the tavern?” Ilisia inquired.

“To be frank, they shouldn’t have been there at all,” Adrian replied. “The place we were staying was a major stronghold of the Church, its residents devout to a fault. Each house there contained the Church’s ‘protection bricks,’ unlike those in the north who worship the Old Gods and outright refuse the Church any presence in their homes.”

“When the Church first notified the town mayor, he granted the incoming Order immense authority, which allowed them to meticulously set up their arrangements within the town,” Adrian explained. “Gray should have immediately turned north upon encountering this small town, where an even larger trap awaited them.”

“So, your original plan didn’t quite pan out, did it?” Ilisia asked.

“More or less, yes. I get the feeling Gray’s got a screw loose,” Adrian nodded. “Last time, we used you, on the verge of transforming into a Blood Demon, as bait. We tricked his brother into opening a coffin rigged with explosives, leaving him severely injured before we ultimately ‘collected’ him…”

“…After that, Gray was furious, intent on seeking revenge in your father’s territory, but I had already arranged for Heronie to be waiting for him there,” Adrian continued. “Heronie gave Gray a thorough beating, yet she couldn’t capture him, allowing him to escape to this region.”

“So Gray intended to stir up trouble in a major Order stronghold to save face?” Ilisia inquired.

“Precisely. If Gray had merely raided small villages, he would have still caused the Order considerable headaches,” Adrian shrugged. “But he simply wouldn’t. He felt that after being messed with by us so many times, he was indignant and absolutely had to reclaim his reputation in a major town garrisoned by the Order. He spent a great deal of money trying to get into town, even resorting to kidnapping and threatening its residents…”

“Given his desperation, we figured it was better to just let him in and deal with him,” Adrian stated. “It just so happened that our adventuring party had killed a troll, so I suggested to the leader that we hold a celebratory feast…”

“Consider this: Gray entered the town, seeking a place where he could cause a significant disturbance,” Adrian continued to explain. “However, at night, the residents were quite obedient, hiding in their homes and turning strangers away, leaving scarcely a soul on the streets… Ah, but then he stumbled upon a tavern, bustling with adventurers, and what’s more, the tavern owner was more than willing to disregard the Order’s announcements and invite them in for drinks.”

“A perfect spot to create a grand spectacle, indeed…” Ilisia remarked.

“Precisely. Gray and his men sat in the tavern, watching the adventurers laugh, chat, and drink heartily, their minds undoubtedly filled with visions of the bloody slaughter to come,” Adrian picked up Ilisia’s thread. “Little did they know, the owner had deliberately let them in, and we two were simply waiting for them.”

Adrian chuckled smugly, tightening his grip on the reins.

Night had fallen, and the bright moonlight spilled onto the country path, illuminating a silvery, ethereal trail. A gentle evening breeze swept through the golden wheat fields, causing the grain heads to sway softly, producing a rustling whisper.

Adrian and Ilisia rode side-by-side along the path, their horses’ hooves leaving shallow imprints in the soil.

Their pace was unhurried and steady.

Some time had passed since the night Ilisia had personally executed her brother.

Ilisia’s emotions had yet to recover; she now resembled a world-weary maiden, indifferent to everything—

—save for her desire to drink Adrian’s blood.

Regardless of Adrian’s demands, she would execute them perfectly, provided he fed her blood.

This included her current act of feigning to be Adrian’s ‘straight man’ in their conversation.

“Why must we pose as adventurers?” Ilisia asked again.

“Adventuring is a rather good profession,” Adrian explained. “Of us two, one acts as a scout, gathering intelligence in the forests and around the town during the day; the other, a person in a wheelchair, remains within the town, overseeing the Order while simultaneously investigating the town’s affairs…”

“And incidentally, it allows you to practice your teamwork and gain practical experience with your swordsmanship, all while remaining safe,” Adrian added.

“I believe my sword is already swift enough; do I truly need more practice?” Ilisia countered. “You witnessed how I dealt with them today.”

“Ilisia, your sword is swift now not because of your exceptional swordsmanship,” Adrian sighed. “Do not forget, the light armor you wear was custom-made for you by Delarose Industries, utilizing the most advanced materials. It is lightweight, immensely strong, remarkably flexible, and corrosion-resistant…”

“Your sword, too, was forged using the most cutting-edge techniques. The number of intricate runes inscribed upon it surpasses even those found on a Demigod’s weapon…” Adrian elaborated.

“Were these armaments created by that ‘printer’ you risked your life to retrieve from Duke Lawrence’s territory?” Ilisia asked.

“Indeed, though that rebel is no longer a duke,” Adrian confirmed. “Beyond your gear, you also have the finest nutritionist, who feeds you the most suitable types of blood at different stages, and who, incidentally, also serves as your sword instructor, teaching you how to push your physical capabilities to their absolute limit…”

“Alright, I understand you’re crucial to my development,” Ilisia interjected, furrowing her brow. “Could you perhaps explain other matters more concisely, without such verbosity?”

“My point is, you still need extensive practice,” Adrian replied, his expression displeased. “The reason you can easily defeat these individuals now is their profound lack of self-awareness. They simply don’t know how to properly utilize their own bodies, and their equipment is haphazard at best. Thus, in your eyes, they appear incredibly slow.”

“If, in the future, you encounter someone equally skilled in Evil Seed swordsmanship and clad in gear stripped from a Demigod, I genuinely fear for your safety,” Adrian stated gravely.

Ilisia nodded in agreement.

Throughout their journey, Adrian had indeed imparted a wealth of knowledge to Ilisia.

He taught her swordsmanship unique to Evil Seeds and Corrupt Seeds, and even showed her a few techniques employed by Demigods.

Ilisia learned rapidly, and her performance in actual combat was exceptionally brilliant.

The only thing that truly vexed Adrian was Ilisia’s utterly dismal comprehension of human sword techniques, forcing him to teach her only simple hacks and slashes.

Ilisia had always harbored a question.

She had never witnessed Adrian employ the techniques of an Evil Seed or a Demigod, yet he possessed an intimate mastery of every technical detail for each sword move.

Such potent sword techniques, executed at superhuman speeds, could not possibly be understood in such detail without having been genuinely used.

It was utterly baffling.

“Do you think this hunt deserves a perfect score?” Adrian interrupted Ilisia’s contemplation.

“Two demon hunters died,” Ilisia stated.

“Ah, those poor souls,” Adrian mused. “They had no parents, no wife, no children, and barely any friends. I wonder if anyone will ever visit their graves behind the church.”

“What about the adventuring party? They seemed quite reluctant to see you go,” Ilisia remarked.

“Is that so? I saw a few who were practically itching for me to leave,” Adrian retorted.

“The others, however, truly wished you’d stay,” Ilisia said with a smile. “Especially that young girl, Alice. She almost cried when you departed.”

“I left her a letter, hoping she’ll forgive me,” Adrian said, tilting his head slightly to gaze at the scattered stars in the night sky. “What other choice did I have? Was I supposed to bring her along?”

“When we’re locked in life-or-death struggles with those monsters that soar through the air and burrow underground, we simply can’t spare a hand to protect her,” Adrian continued.

“Another letter. You truly are heartless,” Ilisia commented. “Treating others’ feelings so carelessly will surely come back to bite you eventually.”

“Don’t lecture me. I believe a letter conveyed my sincerity quite adequately,” Adrian shrugged. “Who would have thought that among adventurers, someone would fall for a man with a broken leg who couldn’t wield a sword?”

“It’s all because of this handsome face of mine; next time, I’ll switch to a uglier one,” Adrian muttered under his breath.

Ilisia rolled her eyes in exasperation.