Baator Hell Promotion
Page 52
"Allow me to greet you," the devil said sincerely, "but please allow me to point out a small problem."
"What makes you so sure I will agree?"
Chapter 157 Bargaining
Lady Hearthheart was slightly startled, as if she hadn't expected the question, but she quickly regained her composure.
"As far as I know, the devil's nature tends to favor order," the lady explained. "Eichmann and his church are the source of chaos in this city. They are the ones who have turned this place into a complete mess."
Hopper breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that Igor had not sold himself out completely.
The succubus shook her finger. In her original form, this gesture would have made her look suggestive and seductive. But after transforming into a dwarf, she looked more like a spoiled little girl.
"It seems that Inquisitor Igor didn't tell you the most crucial point - the devil never serves for free."
She grinned, her sharp white teeth forming an uncomfortable contrast with her dwarf face.
"If you want to hire me to do something, you have to pay me first."
Lady Hearthheart's expression remained unchanged, as if she had expected this. "Of course. What reward do you desire? Blood food, sacrifices, gold, or rare magical items? Or perhaps, you wish to take my soul?"
"Your soul is so dark that I admire you," said the devil, "but I do not wish to touch the Night Badger's servants."
Guessing the Lady of Hearthheart's faith is easy. In the entire gnome pantheon, only one or two deities are willing to accept their fallen subjects. Grigori the Nightfur Badger, obsessed with racial superiority and hostile to all non-gnomes, is the most likely candidate. This deity is notoriously protective and difficult to deal with, and the devils of the Nine Hells avoid his followers to avoid trouble.
"Usually, we receive souls as payment for our work," Hopper coaxed. This was, of course, a lie; the devil was simply exploiting the stereotypes of mortals and demanding an exorbitant price.
However, since Lady Hearthheart herself gave him a good excuse, Hopper didn't mind taking advantage of it.
"However, since Mr. Igor introduced you," her tone became more commercial. Hopper understood that immersing the other party in a more familiar environment would help lower their guard. "I don't mind giving you a discount."
"As you just said, we devils all prefer an orderly and well-organized environment. Master Eichmann's behavior is simply too extreme. Therefore, I will give you a discount."
This bargaining tone of a businessman really made Ms. Luxin relax a lot. She didn't notice that her facial expression had softened.
"Tell me your offer"
"Ten Soul Prisms," Hopper gestured with his hands. "If you don't have any, I'll accept a magic item worth at least 1000 gold sailboats."
Ms. Luxin's facial muscles twitched. Even with her wealth, it was really difficult to come up with such a large amount of money at once.
"I don't have that much liquid capital," the lady said frankly. Actually, this was a lie, but how could one reveal all their cards at the outset of a business?
"It will take some time to repair the Solstice Moon. I will give you an answer before it is completed. What do you think?"
Hopper nodded. She was using this time to think about how to deal with the envoy. After all, if she really assassinated the Archbishop in public, she might not be able to stay in Emerald Harbor. She couldn't rely on the Inquisitor for everything.
The two dwarfs each took a step forward, and the two wine glasses clinked lightly, making a pleasant crisp sound.
"Congratulations on the initial achievement of our cooperation intention."
The dwarfs raised their heads and drank the wine in their cups in one gulp, then showed their empty cups to show that they had nothing left back.
Hopper suddenly remembered something else and asked, "Ms. Hearthheart, are you also leading the Chuckle Society? From what I understand, they also have plans for the Order of the Perfect One."
The lady shook her head and placed the cup back on the workbench.
"I've heard that," she said, but her expression didn't seem to care. "Wade Brightwood is a pretty good leader, but there's a deep misunderstanding between him and me. There are only so many Stone Clan members in this city, and everyone knows each other. It's difficult for me to place my spies among them."
"Wait," Hopper caught the loophole in his words, "you said 'difficult', not 'impossible'..."
Ms. Luxin smiled smugly once again.
"Of course. After all, it's such an important matter, so I can't help but pay attention. A few days ago, I offered a candidate that Wade couldn't refuse—Niya Tiehuan. When I learned from your letter to Igor that Wade extended an olive branch to Ann Tiehuan and her mother, I knew that this candidate had to be Niya."
Hopper's mind flashed with the image of the cockfighting dwarf and her reckless daughter, and he couldn't help but wonder, "She's actually willing to listen to you?"
Tira Luxin's face darkened, and at this moment, she looked more like an ordinary dwarf.
"Cooper Town and my family have never been on good terms. I've always wanted to unite all my people, but I didn't expect it to be this way—I found a way to bury Niya's husband. Unfortunately, even I couldn't get his body back from the Old Lighthouse District, especially since several priests claimed that he died—"
The last two words came out of her nostrils: "- infectious disease."
"Although Niya appears strong, she is used to relying on others. She is very grateful to me for burying Mr. Iron Ring and is willing to repay me in this way. She only needs to tell me the latest news of the Clucking Club. There is no risk."
Hopper nodded. Now that the business had produced some initial results, her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
"By the way, have you heard of 'Marble King'?" Since his partner is so powerful and has broad channels, he naturally cannot waste this resource.
However, this time, Lady Hearthheart disappointed her. The lady shook her head and said, "Igor asked me the same question. Not only me, but no one in the entire Hearthheart family has ever mentioned it. The only dwarf who mentioned it was the one Igor found in the garbage dump in the Surfside last month. When he found him, the poor creature was already unconscious, mumbling only the name."
"Do you know the victim who was found?" Hopper asked.
Lady Hearthheart shook her head again. "Now that you've become a Stone Tribe member, you're probably familiar with my people. We're not suited to a large city. We're the only Stone Tribe member settled within the walls of Emerald Harbor. The victim has a swallow and seagull tattoo on his arm; he must be a sailor on a ship."
She was telling the truth. While dwarves enjoyed a lively atmosphere, their liveliness often meant mischief and offense, making them difficult for city dwellers to tolerate. They themselves preferred to live in open fields and villages rather than mingling with humans twice their size.
Hopper habitually raised her hand to touch her hair crown, but found nothing - in her dwarf form, she did not wear her own conspicuous flower crown headdress. She could only scratch her head and think about the clues she had.
Everything the Inquisitor uncovered was likely based on these clues. Combining this with Lady Luxin's words, an obvious answer emerged, so obvious that she almost blamed herself for not thinking of it earlier.
"Ma'am, you just said that none of your people know about the Marble King. This means his faith is only spread among the lower-class gnomes. Considering that there are so few gnomes sailing at sea, there must be his followers among the gnomes of Barrel Town!"
Author's words: Grigory
Night Badger, Revenger, Leather Slayer
Lesser Divine Power (LE)
Grigori, the patron saint of the dwarves, and Garl Glittergold, have had many disagreements, but most stem from Grigori's one-sided contempt and hostility. Nightfur Badger believes Garl Glittergold to be too frivolous and weak. The Stone Folk live in a turbulent world, and they must strike back and retaliate against any enemy who harms the dwarves in order to protect their already weak race.
The Night Badger usually appears as a massive wolverine with fur as dark as the night. On rare occasions (usually when the faithful have slain giants or kobolds in large numbers), he may appear as a pale-skinned dwarf with a long beard and obsidian eyes.
The holy symbol of the Night Badger is a black wolverine head crushing a giant's skull.
Chapter 158: Harvest Bread
The clamor of activity woke Clint from his hangover, a splitting headache in his wake. Like a caterpillar, the baker struggled to his feet from his small bed by the oven, his mouth dry and his head filled with the clamor of dwarfs drumming.
He finally managed to stand up. The cool autumn breeze blew through the hall, making the shop signs creak and bringing a sense of comfort to his sweaty face.
"You're awake!" Jane, who was behind the counter, seemed to have heard something and poked her head out with a shy smile. "Would you like a beer?"
"No, Jane," Clint covered his head, feeling his temples throbbing, "help me get a glass of water from the bucket."
"You really don't want a beer? I've kept it cold in the well water, and it's perfect for drinking now."
The word "ice" made Clint's dry throat move unconsciously twice. His mind told him not to drink anymore, but apart from his mind, the rest of him was calling for a drink.
"Just one cup, just one cup"
Jane agreed cheerfully, humming a little tune as she poured him a full cup, which was so big that the dwarf could almost drown in it.
Even before he took the first sip, Clint knew he'd made the right decision. The cool, pungent, slightly bitter liquor flowed down his throat, and he drank it without even taking a breath. The baker burped with satisfaction and fell back onto his bed, snoring loudly.
"Is he okay?" the green-haired dwarf asked, holding a cross-stack bun as big as his face. He stood on tiptoe and looked worriedly towards the back room. "Gar Glittergold, Clint is a good man. In these days of panic, he is willing to make harvest bread for us. It really takes courage."
Hopper patted his arm, signaling him to get out of the way after buying his things and not to keep the dwarfs in line behind him waiting.
"He just had a couple of extra drinks. The poet at the Ballala Tavern is incredibly popular," Jane, wearing a white apron, replied as she deftly packed a cake for another white-haired old dwarf. "If you're going to feel bad for me, please feel bad for me. I've been kneading dough since early morning and missed breakfast, lunch, and brunch."
"Of course, Miss Jane," a tanned sailor came forward, with a lot of sand glistening in his beard. "We all know that if it weren't for your influence, Mr. Clint would never have agreed to make harvest bread."
This statement elicited a round of nods from the gnomes in line. With the exodus of non-human residents from Emerald Harbor, the shops the gnomes frequented had closed one after another, making it increasingly difficult to buy clothes that fitted them or food that suited their taste.
Nearly every race has its own way of celebrating Harvest Festival. Halflings enjoy cooking competitions around the bonfire, while dwarves are keen on beer and cheese tastings. And gnomes, in addition to the revelry on the day itself, begin offering harvest bread to Reva the Reaper—the Earth Mother, a deity worshiped by humans—a month before the festival, thanking the goddess for her blessings with the harvest. These offerings must be fresh daily, so those without ovens must buy ready-made bread.
Clint's bakery was the only shop in the entire Surfside area still selling Harvest Bread. To passersby, this decision wasn't surprising. Clint had hired a dwarf as his assistant, and he had always been inclined to be friendly to people of other races. Now that he could earn a unique share of the profits, why not?
Naturally, no one suspected that it was the short and inconspicuous boy who manipulated all this, and his purpose was actually to find out the news of the messenger.
Hopper didn't know what the Marble King's followers were like. But she believed that since she had determined that the messengers were targeting low-ranking nobles and dwarves, and since she was the only dwarf-friendly bakery in the entire Surf District, she would definitely encounter these followers soon.
"Jane! Jane Flash!" A shout made the dwarf look up from his desk. It was already past the noon rush, approaching dinner time. Two female dwarfs—one with brown hair, the other with blue—were standing outside the counter, waving.
"Ms. Kara, and Ann, this is such a pleasant surprise." Jane wiped her hands and stepped onto the stool. "When did you come to the Emerald City?"
"Ever since last time," Ann winked at Jane before Kara could, clearly hinting at their last little adventure in the Giggling Club, "Mom thought it over and decided to put aside the argument and join Mr. Liangmu. They had a lot of important things to discuss, so she just took me and rented a small room near the toy shop."
"You could be louder. Maybe there are still people in the shady area who haven't heard your mother's whereabouts," the brown-haired Kara scolded. But it was obviously useless. Ann just stuck out her tongue and closed her mouth, looking like she didn't take it to heart at all.
"In fact, it's not just Ms. Iron Ring. Lane Bolt and I have moved here too," Kara explained, turning to Jane at the counter. "Business is so busy around the Harvest Festival that no one wants to travel back and forth every day."
"That's great! I was worried I'd have to spend the Harvest Festival alone, but now I'm not lonely at all."
"Jane, do you still have any harvest bread?" An complained angrily, perhaps thinking of the setbacks she had suffered today. "I went to several houses and was laughed at by those long-legged people. They said we only eat country food."
Kara nodded, agreeing with her words.
"Originally, Ms. Tiehuan asked me to take Ann with me when I went shopping today, but we still haven't found a place that sells harvest bread. It was only when we met other tribesmen on the road just now that we found out you had it."
Jane jumped off the stool and opened the cooled oven, where there were two loaves of bread sprinkled with flax seeds and dried cranberries.
"There are only two left. I mixed some ash and coal powder into it to make it more flavorful." She tore off two still-green grape leaves from the wall, wrapped a corner of the bread in them and handed them to them. "Is that enough?"
An's eyes lit up. He took the bread, swallowed his saliva, and forced himself not to bite it.
"That's enough, one for each of us. We asked Mr. Bolt before we came if we wanted to bring some to him. He said he had already bought them, so there was no need for us to do it for him. We don't know any other Stone Clan members in our area."
"Oh, I can't take your money, Kara," Jane smiled and covered the coin slot with her palm. "When I first came here, I was grateful for your care!"
After a dramatic show of compromise, squabbling, arguing, and shouting, the two dwarfs finally reached an agreement. Kara paid for her and Ann's bread at half price and took her out into the sunset. However, Hopper felt that the bigger reason might be that the theater's evening performance of "Hymn of the Sword" was about to begin, and if they arrived too late, they wouldn't be able to find good seats.
As night fell, the lights from the shops gradually came on, illuminating the path for the last few strolling passersby. Hopper closed the windows and locked the door, plunging the bakery into complete darkness. For the devil, darkness is perfect cover. Relying on her night vision, she quietly reflected on the conversation in the shadows.
"Lan Bolt, did you buy the harvest bread from someone else? Or have you already turned to some god who cannot see the light of day and even abandoned the tradition of offering sacrifices?"
Author's words: Thank you very much for your recommendation and monthly ticket
bow!
Chapter 159: Double Cherry Bread
The last candle lit, filling the narrow back room of the bakery with a cold, blue glow. Six black candles, mixed with bone meal, stood at the tips of the circle, burning quietly, illuminating the solemn face of the female dwarf.
Hopper glanced at Clint, who had fallen asleep silently, and put down the sacrificial knife in her hand—no, there was no need for that just yet. Instead, she reached into the jar at the center of the magic circle. With a sticky sound of water, she pulled a toad out of the pot.
The succubus calmly met the toad's gaze, then lowered her head and kissed its forehead. The toad twitched as if struck by electricity, falling from her grasp to the ground. Hopper ignored it and pulled a handful of hair of varying lengths from the pocket of her apron.
"It's too late to collect fifty kinds of hair. I hope twenty kinds will work." She thought so, set the hair on fire, and then poured the hot embers into the toad's mouth.
Hopper hesitated for a moment. There were quite a few big devils who could predict the future, but they all had their own strengths, and it was a bit difficult to choose.
"Black-feathered Lamer, I offer you this shining coin, hoping you will give me guidance."
With that, she lifted the cash box and poured out all the money she had earned over the past three days. Strangely, both the copper and silver coins turned to glittering powder in mid-air, vanishing without a single drop to the ground. By the time she had emptied all the coins, the toad within the magic circle had swelled up like a full pig's bladder.
Without hesitation, she took the thorns she had prepared and hit the toad with them. The toad exploded into pieces, and its foul-smelling blood formed a line of words on the ground.
“Even marble needs a laugh”
At this point, all the candles were extinguished, and Hopper pondered in the darkness. Lamer, a raven, was, like other ravens, particularly fond of stolen property. He had offered him Clint's money, so the offering was perfectly acceptable. However, given the circumstances, his answer was particularly vague.
A vague answer is still an answer. If Lamer's answer is too vague, it means that a powerful energy source is obscuring the answer itself. It seems that the false god is extraordinary.
The marble must refer to the false god, so what does laughter represent? In mysticism, laughter can refer to many things, including beautiful women, love, and even laughter itself.
It felt like he had said something nonsense. Hopper muttered as he stood up and rubbed his numb knees.
"Knock, knock, knock!" The loud knocks on the door startled Hopper so much that she almost jumped up. She belatedly remembered that she had sent a letter to the Inquisitor in the evening, inviting him to come over for a chat.
Hopper pulled the curtains in the back room to cover the messy floor, and carefully opened the door a crack. Sure enough, it was Igor outside.
"Are you sure it's that dwarf?" The Inquisitor looked around to make sure no one was following him. He then nimbly crossed the threshold and asked directly, "Just because he didn't come to buy bread from you?"
"Unless you can find another place selling harvest bread in the Surf District," Hopper carefully lit an ordinary candle, considering Igor's lack of night vision, "otherwise I can't understand why he lied to the other dwarves and said he had bought it."
The Inquisitor shrugged his nose and frowned. "You're hiding a dead body in the room? There's a smell of a burning corpse."
Without waiting for Hopper to explain, he picked up the candlestick and reached out to lift the curtain.
"Don't worry, he's not dead. He's just drunk." Hopper said to the Inquisitor's back, but he ignored him, squatted down, and touched the words on the ground.
Igor looked up. "'Even marble needs a laugh,' is that some kind of infernal proverb?"
"You can understand Hell Language?" Hopper asked in surprise. "No, this is the divination result I just got."
The judge stood up, holding the candlestick in one hand and touching his chin with the other. He turned his hawk eyes to Hopper and said, "Mr. Palmer died in a carnival. Do you think that laughter refers to this?"
Hopper perked up. Indeed, he had been careless. Lamer was a devil like himself, and the laughter he had mentioned was definitely not meant in a positive way.
"Let's go and take a look and we'll know."
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