Baator Hell Promotion
Page 38
Not only the nobles, but even the busy servants stopped their work unconsciously, stared at her intently, formed a big circle, and admired her dance in ecstasy.
Suddenly, Hopper felt a slight stinging sensation on her skin, as if a nettle had scraped across the back of her hand. The succubus wasn't known for casting spells, and her transformation further weakened her senses. It wasn't until she heard screams erupt from the hall that she realized something was amiss.
Darkness! Someone had cast a dark spell, obscuring all the torches. Hopper, being a demon, could see through darkness, so when things got dark at first, she didn't even notice anything was wrong.
However, it was too late. The people who had just been immersed in the dance were frightened by the sudden darkness and panicked. They screamed, pushed and blamed each other, trying to figure out what had happened.
The succubus looked around. In the dim darkness, she could clearly see at least a dozen slaves squeezed into the crowd, suddenly pulling weapons from their robes, boots, and even belts.
An assassin was right beside her, running straight towards the center of the hall. The succubus caught a glimpse of his face, the features of which were twisting and melting, turning into a smooth, featureless mask.
Shapeshifter! The succubus' pupils shrank. It was too late to be surprised. The assassins, now free of their disguises, had already rushed to the center of the hall. They attacked without mercy, and anyone who stood in their way would have their throats slit by the blue-gold daggers.
The wails of the dying instantly detonated the hall, and cries and screams filled Hopper's eardrums. Guards roared and rushed to protect the important figures at one end of the hall, while the nobles at the head of the hall also burst into various defensive magic lights.
The blinding crowd jostled, bumped, and even trampled each other. Knight Aaron only had time to grunt before he was pushed away from Hopper by several fleeing guests.
"Piazza-gold weapon!" The succubus recognized the assassin's weapon and, without caring about his manners, decisively bent down and hid behind the surrounding pillars.
A chanting sound came from the Chief's side, a mage trying to dispel the darkness. Then, a green arc of electricity appeared in Hopper's dark vision, and the chanting immediately turned into a muffled groan.
"Counterspell! There are spellcasters among assassins." The succubus looked in the direction of the electric arc and saw the black skin hidden under the hood of the other party. It was a dark elf.
Their purpose was now clear. Hopper turned to look towards the center of the hall. Sure enough, the most agile assassins had taken advantage of the guards' absence to protect the important figures and had already run to the dark elf dancer and undone her shackles.
The assassins had a clear division of labor, operating with remarkable efficiency. One team rescued the dancer, while another charged toward the gate, their adamantine weapons stained with blood. Besides the mage who had just cast the counterspell, there were at least three dark elves lurking in the shadows, providing covert support. Within a mere minute of casting the dark spell, they had completed the rescue mission and were on their way out.
"Tsk, who is this female elf? Why is she making such a big noise?" Hopper bent his waist and, relying on his dark vision, quietly followed behind the assassin.
At this moment, Archbishop Eichmann's spell was finally completed. Even though the dark elf wizard tried desperately to interfere, it was obvious that the gap in their spellcasting skills was too great, and they could only slightly delay his speed.
With a loud rooster crow, a dazzling red sun rose from the archbishop's raised hands, and the darkness in the entire hall quickly melted away like ice and snow.
"Damn it, Sun Ray!" The demon quickly closed her eyes. She felt her eyelids flush red, her hair and clothes flying everywhere in the hot wind, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of burning clothes and human flesh.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw a hall flooded with blood. Dozens of slaves and nobles lay motionless on the ground, many groaning in agony. Where the dark elf mage had stood, only a smoldering pile of charred coal remained.
Hopper, always mindful of her mission, searched for the dancer. Her heart sank as she looked toward the gate.
The Dark Elf wizard wasn't completely inactive before his death; the gate was now obscured by a thick, green mist. Hopper only had time to see the last assassin disappear completely into the fog.
Chapter 117: The End of the Banquet
Hopper remained calm as he quickly surveyed the hall. He saw that most of the guards had gathered around the chief due to the sudden incident. The remaining guards were urgently assisting the injured nobles. A minor figure like her, dressed simply and seemingly unharmed, received almost no attention.
The Devil decisively removed her crown, donned her hood, and quickly walked toward the foul-smelling fog. She knew that if she didn't catch up with her target today, her only clue to tracking the Bloated Demon might be lost.
She wasn't the only one who wanted to leave quickly; several unharmed nobles ventured into the mist. But after only a few steps, they fell to their knees, clutching their throats, and dumped all their delicious food on the floor.
Although the stinking cloud cast by the mage before his death had knocked down a number of fearless nobles, the stench and poison it emitted had no effect on a demon like Hopper, hailing from Baator and accustomed to poisonous gas and thick smoke. However, the thick fog obscured her vision, making it almost impossible for her to see anything.
Fortunately, the main door to the hall was a heavy oak door that reached the ceiling, and the assassins had no time to close it in their haste. Otherwise, Hopper would have had to grope his way to open the door in the thick fog.
As the mist began to thin, Hopper knew she was nearing its edge and slowed her pace. She wore the statue like a necklace, so she couldn't carry the pouch containing her weapons. Now she had nothing, so she had to proceed with caution.
The Westerling family's evening banquet was held in the main hall of the mansion. When Hopper walked out of the hall, she was faced with three roads: forward, left, and right. When she ran out of the fog, she only caught a glimpse of the last assassin disappearing around the corner of the longest corridor.
Just as she was about to give chase, she felt the light around her dim. It was darkness magic again, the dark elves had left someone behind to cover their retreat!
The assassin who stayed behind saw Hopper run out of the stinking cloud and reacted quickly. As soon as the dark magic landed, his dagger stung the woman's neck like a scorpion in the dark night.
The assassin was very confident. Although he was also affected by magic and could not see the target, as a dark elf, he was born underground and had long adapted to the environment. Compared with a human who was suddenly exposed to darkness, he could undoubtedly move more freely in a dark environment.
He didn't hear the woman duck, nor could he see the pair of eyes burning with azure flames. Just as the dagger was about to plunge into the darkness, he suddenly felt an inexplicable panic and hesitated, stopping.
"What's wrong with me? How dare I attack a woman?" he reflected. "Aren't women far superior to me? Why would I attack a completely harmless woman?"
After realizing this, he shuddered, quickly stood up straight, released the dark spell, bowed respectfully, and said, "I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you."
A foot in a sheepskin boot greeted him. Hopper's attack broke the spell, and the dark elf shuddered, but it was too late. The foot struck him squarely between his legs, the piercing pain making his eyes bulge. The assassin screamed and fell to his knees.
Hopper didn't hesitate, snatched the assassin's adamantine dagger, which had been released due to the pain, and stabbed it directly into his throat.
The assassin endured the severe pain and turned his head with great effort, barely avoiding the vital parts. The dagger only pierced the armor on his throat.
Hopper felt as if the dagger in her hand had pierced a piece of rotten wood, not living flesh. Then, a golden light and a huge force erupted from her throat armor, pushing her away from the dark elf.
Then, a ball of light ignited in the dark elf's hand, greatly relieving his pain. The assassin rolled on the ground, narrowly avoiding Hopper's subsequent pursuit, and at the same time pulled out a short knife from his boot.
"Ysards (Dark Elf: spellcaster)" the assassin spat, feeling humiliated, and tore off the broken, useless necklace from his neck. His scarlet eyes flashed, and he roared and stabbed at Hopper.
With a clang, Hopper blocked his dagger, but it was immediately blocked. The black dagger, with only the blade flashing with cold light, cut along the dagger like a flexible snake, heading straight for Hopper's fingers.
Hopper let go of the dagger, letting it fall to the ground. She spun on her right foot, leaning towards the assassin and elbowing the dark elf in the face.
The assassin didn't dodge or evade, but stabbed Hopper with her hand. The dark elf was certain that a slender human woman wouldn't have much strength.
This time, however, he completely miscalculated. Hopper felt his elbow smash unimpeded into the dark elf's nose, a distinct crack of bone. The inertia of the demon's immense power sent both her and the assassin crashing to the ground.
The demon rolled lightly and stood up from the ground. The assassin on the ground was hit in the face, and blood gushed out from the puddle of mud that was originally his nose.
"Next time, learn some mysticism. Shapeshifters aren't the only creatures in this world that can disguise themselves." Hopper picked up the dagger from the ground and sneered at the dying dark elf. Then, she thrust the adamantine dagger hard, pinning the enemy to the ground through his mouth.
"Ah~" Hopper stood up and stretched. The flowing blood and the exhilarating battle satisfied her instincts as a succubus. Even though she still had a mission to accomplish, it couldn't stop her from enjoying this moment of pleasure.
Soon, the succubus regained consciousness. The fight must have drawn the attention of the people in the hall, but due to the stinking cloud, no one had yet arrived. She had to leave immediately, or else she would have to rack her brains to invent a legendary story about how an unarmed herbalist had defeated an elite dark elf assassin.
The battle with the assassin lasted only a few rounds, but it was enough for the other dark elves to escape. Hopper hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to chase after the last assassin who had disappeared around the corner of the corridor.
In fact, the corridor where the assassin disappeared was the same route Hopper had taken to the banquet. She remembered that after turning the corner was the guardhouse, and further ahead was the gate. She could only hope that the Westerling guards could at least halt the assassin's progress.
As she turned the corner, she saw a figure in a black windbreaker pulling a longsword from an enemy's throat. The corpse twisted and transformed back into its original form. In the corner lay the bodies of two dark elves. One had been ripped open, its intestines spilling out onto the floor; the other's brain had been shredded by a crossbow bolt driven through its eye socket.
It was too late to retreat. Hopper clutched his cloak tightly, uttered a sharp scream, and staggered as if he was about to faint.
"Alright, Ms. Hopper." The Inquisitor turned, blood splattering everywhere as his windbreaker fluttered. He shook his sword, clearing away the gore. His gloomy face, his eyes gleaming with excitement and bloodlust. "We all know you're not a delicate lady. Don't waste your time."
Chapter 118: The Weak Lady
"I don't understand what you're talking about." Hopper feigned composure, covering his face with his hands and pretending to sob. "Mr. Inquisitor, did you kill all these... these... demons?"
Her legs hidden under her skirt were slightly bent, secretly gathering strength, ready to launch out and attack the opponent at any time.
Inquisitor Igor did not respond immediately, but took a bottle from his belt and collected the blood that was still flowing out of the gap in the corpse's neck.
When the bottle was full, he tilted his head back and took a big gulp. The remaining blood flowed down the corners of his mouth. Combined with his ferocious long face, he looked much more like a devil who had just crawled out of hell than Hopper did.
"Ah, Blood Father, the god who drinks the blood of the gods." Hopper nodded inwardly and sighed, "I know the Inquisitor doesn't believe in soft-spoken scholars, but I didn't expect the Inquisitor to even emulate Blood Father's drinking of blood."
"Okay, Ms. Hopper. I told you this when we were in your shop." Igor raised the bottle to Hopper and took another swig. "I'm an inquisitor. I only care about the purity of my believers. I'm not interested in your little secrets."
Hopper slowly lowered his hand from covering his face, tilted his head to look at the erratic Inquisitor, and asked curiously, "How much do you know? And when did you know it?"
Igor tapped his nose and said, "Many people call us 'dog noses.' But they're all wrong. My nose is much more sensitive than a dog's. I knew you were definitely not human at the Hanged Elf Tavern. But what does that have to do with me? I'm not an exorcist, and Blood Father didn't ask me to exterminate all non-humans."
Hopper nodded, spreading his hands to show the Inquisitor that he was unarmed. Then he said, "Thank you for your silence, Inquisitor. I'm tracking a female dark elf. Can you tell me where she is?"
"I'm afraid I'll disappoint you, ma'am." The Inquisitor waved at the corpse on the ground. "All the dark elves I saw are here. I guess the enemy you're chasing isn't here."
"However, I'm tracking a creature from the lower plane, and you're tracking a dark elf. I understand tracking, and you understand lower plane creatures. I think we still have a basis for cooperation, don't you?"
Hopper twitched her ears; she could faintly hear shouting coming from the hall. It seemed the stinking cloud had dissipated; the people inside must have discovered the body on the ground. She touched the frog pendant; as the dark elf retreated, the pendant stopped making noises. Turning back now to find another way would risk exposing them too much.
Without hesitation, she nodded decisively and said, "At least we can reach a preliminary cooperation intention. We can discuss the specific matters later."
As the noise and footsteps grew closer, the succubus immediately collapsed to the ground, even finding a wall to lean against. He closed his eyes, tilted his head, and began to feign unconsciousness. Even the experienced Inquisitor was astonished by the speed of his expression.
Hopper lay comfortably, the bloody scent of drow and shapeshifters hanging in the air. She heard the clang of weapons and armor, the loud shouts and orders from guards, and wondered to herself, "I wonder if they're here to capture the enemy, or to warn them to flee."
The noisy sound instantly died down after the footsteps turned the corner. Even with his eyes closed, in the darkness, Hopper could imagine the guards' expressions when they saw the mess on the ground, and he almost laughed out loud.
"I...Lord Igor, why are you here? What happened here?" A deep voice sounded not far from Hopper. The speaker swallowed his saliva because of nervousness.
"Captain of the Guard, Mr. Altman, good evening." The Inquisitor's voice was steady and powerful, as if the fierce battle he had just experienced had no effect on him. "As you can see, I was originally waiting in the guard room for the respected Lord Westerling. Unfortunately, some foolish monsters disturbed this peaceful night, so I had no choice but to send them to the Styx to report."
"Oh," Hopper muttered, "what do you mean by 'waiting for Lord Westerling?' Perhaps the nobles find it unlucky to have an Inquisitor, and are deliberately avoiding you."
"You mean, you killed all these enemies?" The captain swallowed more clearly. "What about the brothers in the guard room?"
"Unfortunately, they failed to take action as soon as the enemy appeared, lost the initiative and died heroically." The Inquisitor should be pacing back and forth, and his blood-soaked coat made a wet "pa pa" sound as he walked.
Finally, he stopped beside Hopper and asked the captain of the guard, "What happened in there? Why did the dark elves rush out to attack me?"
Altman seemed to be conferring with someone, and after a moment he replied, "I'm not entirely sure what exactly happened. The dark elves went on a killing spree at the banquet, and Lord Westerling was frightened tonight. He may not be able to see you."
The Inquisitor was not disappointed by this unexpected turn of events. His voice remained steady. "Then I will come back to see Lord Westerling in a few days."
Then he changed the subject: "You've come at the perfect time. The lady on the ground was probably frightened by the bloody scene at the banquet. Poor girl, she's so weak that she fainted when she saw me fighting the enemy. Let her family take her back."
"You're quite a liar, Inquisitor," Hopper thought to herself. She felt a breeze, a few drops of cold blood splashing onto her face, and then the sound of the Inquisitor's hard-soled boots tapping on the floor, gradually fading away.
A rough hand touched her forehead and patted her face, trying to wake her. Hopper guessed it was Captain Altman. Seeing that he couldn't wake her, the captain called out to the back, "Everyone, come and see, does anyone recognize this lady? Someone, go borrow a bottle of smelling salts."
Immediately, several guards ran over with the clanking of armor. They carefully lifted Hopper and placed him on what Hopper guessed was a makeshift stretcher.
In the darkness, Hopper could only rely on his other organs. The pendant remained silent, indicating that the dark elf dancer must have escaped the mansion. Besides the aroma of food, the air was thick with the stench of blood and the pungent lingering smell of the stinking cloud spell. As the stretcher swayed, the sounds of crying and arguing became clearer—she was carried by guards back to the hall where the banquet was held.
She was carefully placed on a table, which Hopper dared to read with his hair, must have been filled with food not long ago, because the cold wine had soaked through her clothes and onto her back.
"Hey, isn't this Miss Hopper?" a young voice asked in surprise. Hopper recognized it as Knight Hervey. He reached out and touched Hopper's head, asking, "Is she hurt?"
"I'm glad you know her," the guard said, sounding relieved. "The young lady is fine. She was probably just shocked by the bloody scene. Inquisitor Sir Igor said she fainted from fright and asked us to find her family."
"She's my friend, leave her to me," said Knight Hervey. He seemed to turn to face another person. "Kate, can you help take care of Miss Hopper? I'll call Aaron over. He was almost going crazy just now."
Chapter 119: Divine Blood
It was already afternoon, and the door of the herbalist's shop was still closed. Hopper sat bored behind the counter, staring at the closed door, wondering if that man would really come.
Sheriff's Square was in the heart of the shady district, and on a normal day, even when the shops were closed, Hopper could hear the bustling hawking, the constant quarrels, and the lowing of livestock.
However, after the disastrous banquet at the Westerling family last night, the Speaker declared a city-wide curfew for a week, with the sole purpose of hunting down the assassin. During the curfew, all residents were prohibited from leaving the city except for purchasing necessities at designated stores during designated hours.
In the dull silence, there was a polite knock on the door.
"Please come in."
Edim pushed the door open and entered. As the door opened and closed, bright sunlight momentarily filtered in, but it was gone in an instant, and the room was plunged into darkness again. His brow was furrowed, his expression filled with worry, and it was obvious that he was worried.
It seems that there are always exceptions to martial law. The devil doesn't hate privileges, she just hates not being able to enjoy them.
"Are you waiting for someone?" The knight did not miss the surprise and impatience that flashed across Hopper's face.
"Yeah, I thought it was Knight Aaron." The devil lied.
In fact, Knight Aaron had gone to great lengths to return Hopper, who had feigned unconsciousness, yesterday. Worried about her safety, he had stayed until dawn, ensuring she was awake before leaving. She was probably still soundly asleep.
"Do you need any medicine?" Hopper decided to preemptively ask the astute knight. "The patrol has been here twice today. I need to see if there are any common herbs left."
The knight didn't answer immediately, but walked straight to the counter and sat down. After a long silence, he said, "Now that I know your secret, we are already friends. If I entrust a secret to you, will you give me the same guarantee?"
Hopper looked at the knight's furry head and couldn't help but sigh, "Humans are truly contradictory creatures." Edim suspected he was hiding something, yet at the same time, he couldn't help but want to believe in himself.
The succubus licked her lips. Complexity is good; a complex soul is even more valuable. She immediately raised a finger and said earnestly, "I swear by Styx, the incarnation of the ever-flowing Styx, the god of contracts, that I will never reveal Knight Edim's secrets without his permission."
The young knight's expression softened slightly. He stared at his crossed fingers on the counter and said, "I have no intention of disobeying the Archbishop or the Speaker. It's just that Miss Judith is truly pitiful. Given the frequency of the Eagle's Nest bandits' attacks, it's impossible for her to safely travel alone through the mountain roads to other cities."
Hopper couldn't help but roll his eyes. What kind of secret was that? If the Archbishop really wanted Judith's life, he wouldn't have sent a stubborn Edim to escort her. If Edim could just allocate half of his demonic perception to political sensitivity, all of Emerald Harbor would be a better place.
Even so, Hopper tried to explain, "So you helped her? Now what can I do for you?"
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop. At the banquet, I overheard that it was you who restored her face." Edimu tilted his head to the side, his ears flushed red from his eavesdropping. "I wanted to ask if you could help her change her appearance again, at least so that she could enter the city with a new face and find a ship to leave Emerald Harbor."
"I don't understand why you came to me, Knight Edimu." Hopper glanced at the height of the sun, his tone becoming more impatient. "Are you trying to take advantage of her illegitimate status to do something? Or are you in love with her?
The knight turned his head sharply, his face flushed crimson, and he hastily explained, "No, no, no, Miss Hopper, you misunderstood. Ms. Judith told me a lot about her childhood, and I just sympathize with her experience."
"I don't mean to criticize you or Judith," Hopper's voice turned cold. "There are many refugees outside the city who are crying out for food. You could spend your energy on them. Miss Judith is no different from them. With your protection, she won't have a bad life outside the city."
Seeing the knight about to retort, she raised her voice slightly and continued, "Also, you'd better ask Miss Judith about what happened at the time. Of course, whether she is willing to tell you is another matter."
Edim stared at Hopper blankly. She had always behaved properly in front of him and had never shown such a...cold businessman side.
His reaction amused Hopper, and she couldn't help laughing. The knight felt as if she was teasing him, and his face flushed as red as if it could boil a pot of water in an instant.
Hopper pressed a small bottle into his hand. Smelling herbal fragrance, she approached the knight and said ambiguously, "If you want to pursue Miss Judith, you'd better ask her opinion on whether to change her appearance, okay?"
The knight jumped up as if he had been burned, and fled in panic, almost bumping into the door. When he reached the door, he turned back and said seriously, "Thank you, Miss Hopper. But I really don't have that kind of intention towards Miss Judith."
The door slammed shut, and the knight ran so fast that he didn't notice the smile on Hopper's face gradually turning cold.
Not long after the knight left, there was another knock on the door. This time, it was the person Hopper had been waiting for.
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