—Near midnight at the adventurers headquarter of the human empire—

 

The guild master sat impatiently in his office, tapping his toes and drumming fingers on the table. He knows it's late; still, this is no reason for being late. The emergency call via the magic transmitter crystal was sent hours ago. So far, only the third royal princess has deemed it necessary to come here. However, the reason why she is present goes much deeper than one could see with the naked eye.

 

"They're late," the guild master said to himself, peeved.

 

The princess looked at him but said nothing. The others are way too laid-back; they got lazy over time. There are reasons why more and more people betray the empire; they were one of them. 

 

A knock on the door indicated that another person had arrived. The door opened, and a middle-aged-looking elf entered the room. How old he really was, no one could tell. The princess especially detested him—he was one of these bloody 'lower-elves-can-be-sold" supporters. Neither the master nor the princess liked him. Yet, he's still an A-Rank adventurer close to S; thus, he was tolerated. 

 

The elf greeted them curtly and sat down on the unoccupied couch. Then they waited again. 

 

After what felt like really long-drawn-out ten minutes, four more individuals arrived. 

 

Like the other two guests, they sat down at the empty seats, except for one person who demonstratively stopped near the door. The person who sat next to the princess was the metropolitan, the archbishop of the King's Garden. Usually, he would not even set foot in that part of the city, as it was beneath him, but he had heard that the third royal princess had also responded to the signal and was on her way to the guild. Even though in his opinion, she would soon be sold off to a rival family anyway, he still had to keep a certain image as a representative of his church. 

 

The person who sat down next to the elf was the vice-captain of the town guard. He had enjoyed the seductive proximity of a lady from the high-class brothel until a messenger knocked on the door and conveyed the captain's order. He snorted in annoyance. Although it's not really his job, he could not disobey the order. He bemoaned the gold he had thrown down the drain. The courtesans were more than expensive. Usually, only nobles or people like him who had saved up gold for quite a while could afford their services. Then he still had to wait for his beloved to be free that day because the women were usually booked up weeks in advance and went in and out of the royal district. Accordingly, his mood to be here tonight was rather negative. He had heard about this incident hours before but thought nothing of it.

 

The only free chair, located between the two couches, was occupied by the only other woman in the room. She was well-trained, muscular, and bursting with vitality. Her red hair only underlined her wild appearance. Despite all this, her looks should not be deceived—her fighting style was based on magic. She was one of the few high-ranking battlemages in the empire. This was because many of the people who took the same path died quickly. After all, they often overestimated themselves. This class was a clear case of easy to learn, hard to master. Initially, battlemages are extremely strong, but the further they progress in level, the more difficult it becomes to defeat equally strong people and monsters. Only at higher levels this changes again. To get there, though, it takes a lot of time, hard work, and a certain cunning and strong will to keep going even when you're already down for the four hundredth time. This woman was one of the few S-Ranks currently in town.

 

Another S-Rank was the person who stood at the door. A man who thought he was more important than most of the people he faced. His arrogance is not unfounded since he is one of the top twenty in the adventurer's guild. He is a two-handed swordsman. However, his greatsword he typically always flaunted around was currently at the best blacksmith in town to repair the damage from his last quest. Many think that he would be a much easier target without a weapon—they are wrong. Some of his secondary classes were almost as strong as his primary class. Few knew about this, and even fewer had ever seen all of his classes. Those who did are, for the most part, no longer in this world. That strength and subsequent arrogance caused him to be offended for being forced to show up and wasting his valuable time. He clearly had better things to do than solving unimportant fatalities.

 

Now that everyone was gathered—well, almost everyone, but anyone who wasn't here wouldn't come either—the guild master raised his voice. 

 

"It took a while for you to arrive, but I'm glad you made it anyway. I can see from your expressions that you are not very happy about it—thinking that this is just a small, unimportant matter. I assure you that the situation is much worse than it appears."

 

After these words, everyone seemed to become a little more attentive. Even if they didn't want to be here, it was still rare that the old man would describe a situation as bad, especially since he was once one of the strongest in the empire before he took an arrow in the knee and became the guild master. At least that's what he said happened. 

 

Somewhat pleased with himself, he continued, "But first of all, I must briefly address your excellency and the vice-captain. Our demonologists have found out that these shells are husks. We can now prove that a vetala is in our city, and we cannot rule out the possibility that the demons are planning something more significant when they send one of them into the capital. What worries me even more about this whole situation is that a vetala has made it into the city. This calls into question the ability of the town guard to properly control the gates. I don't rule out that even some guards might have been bribed to let her in.

 

"And before the vice-captain interrupts me, I would like to address the church on this, with the request to purify these poor bodies so that they can at least experience a little of the gods' grace."

 

The metropolitan only nodded in agreement. However, the vice-captain of the town guard was beside himself but suppressed his feelings in order to not jump up and shout in anger. Even if he thought it was an absolute impertinence, he could not dismiss the facts and the possibility that one of the guards would like to have more on a plate than measly crumbs. He doubted, however, that they willingly or knowingly let demons into the city. Something was fishy about the whole thing, and he would get to the bottom of it.

 

The others did not comment, as there was no reason to get involved. Even if a vetala was in town, it still wasn't important enough to require their intervention. Yeah, the husks were a problem, but no one except the archbishop possessed holy magic. So that was not the reason they were summoned.  

 

The Guildmaster raised his voice again, "This was a problem that bothered me, but not the cause of the signal. So, as you all have gathered by now, there was an incident within the guild today. In itself, nothing unusual, fights and scuffles happen quite often. Deaths are sometimes involved, but we can arrest the person afterward, thanks to the countless protection spells and wards embedded in this building."

 

"And the perpetrator of today's incident knew something that caused you so much worry?" asked the battlemage. 

 

"Yes and no. It's because we know absolutely nothing at all. The person who committed the murder disappeared immediately after casting that strange spell. We—"

 

"What do you mean 'disappeared'? I thought one of the protection spells ensured that as soon as one of the guild members activated it, the targeted person would be immobilized," the elf asked in astonishment, ignoring the fact that he had interrupted the master.

 

The old man nodded. "Yes, IF there had been a target. The thing is, the person completely vanished, and that's what gives me the stomach ache. As everyone here knows, the protection spells were cast by none other than the royal court mage. And it gets worse; the protection spells weren't touched; they still work just as well as before, which means the spells were simply ignored."

 

The two S-rankers looked at each other briefly and nodded. They stood up and announced, "'We'll take care of it, don't worry,'" and walked out of the office. 

 

The reason for their sudden encouragement was simple: the person who created the protection spells was ranked fourth among the strongest people in the empire. Her magic was not to be trifled with, and whoever possessed such a rare ability or the power to simply ignore these spells was someone who shouldn't be allowed to roam around the city freely and unsupervised.

 

The guild master turned to those still present, "I ask you keep this to yourselves and, if possible, find out who this person is. You can get the details from my secretary outside. If this person is working with the demons, well, then we might have a problem. Therefore, I ask the church to do what is necessary to prevent worse."

 

The metropolitan agreed with this statement but did not say anything. However, he didn't think that this person must be stopped. The church would want someone so powerful for its own purposes. With this, it would be much easier to continue their hidden agenda to conquer the empire from within their own ranks and ensure that all heretics will receive their righteous punishment. For him, it was already an absolute imposition to sit in a room with an elf—an impure being. But the time of the church will come. 

 

The vice-captain and the elf didn't say anything either. Their silence showed that they agreed. 

 

After another few uncomfortable minutes, the other three men took their leave.

 

Finally, only the princess and the guild master were left in the room. She stared at him questioningly, with a look that prompted him to say what he had concealed. 

 

"So?" she asked. 

 

"We questioned some of the witnesses, and it seems that the moon elf, who was from the same group as the victim, was able to recognize a bit of the evildoer's face."

 

"And?"

 

"I don't want to jump to conclusions, but it was probably a half-blood. Half-elf, half-vixen."

 

The princess looked at the old man in shock. The last time anyone had reported such a half-breed was centuries ago. The mere fact that it was still alive did not bode well. There were reasons why the union of these two races was a sacrilege. She wanted to say something but got interrupted by the glowing magic ball on the table. 

 

The master, standing in front of the magic communicator, tapped it three times with his index finger. Inside the orb appeared a face of a woman who looked like she was in her early twenties. She had two large corkscrew-shaped horns on her head, which resembled those of the argali sheep. 

 

"You requested me? What did you want?" came a dainty voice from the orb. 

 

"Yes, it's about an incident that happened today at our guild, and I need your opinion on this case. We have magical footage of the person—couldn't capture her face, but at least how she was dressed. I'll send the recordings over to you and hope that you can tell us something about her clothing."

 

The guild master was glad that they had this kind of magical technology, even if it often wasn't very accurate and didn't last long. Still better than nothing, though.

 

"Should you really ask a demoness about such internal matters?" the person from the orb teased.

 

Neither of the two humans said anything. "You guys really are no fun. Haa, alright. Send it over, and I'll take a quick look at the recording."

 

He did as he was told. What followed were long quiet minutes; nothing was said. Neither of them dared even to breathe, fearing they might disturb her.

 

Their behavior was not unfounded. The demoness was, after all, the headmistress of the royal magic academy in the Kingdom of Origins. Even though this kingdom was tiny compared to its neighbors, its strength was on par with the other empires. And she was among the most powerful living demons who were not part of the Ashen Realm.

 

The voice of the beautiful demon sounded again, but in a concerned tone, "Whatever you plan to do, do not do anything that might anger this person. It is of the utmost importance not to make an enemy of her."

 

The princess and the master stared at the orb in horror, their mouths agape. 

 

"W-why?" finally asked the princess.

 

"Even though I don't know who this person is, her witch hat says more than you might think. I have seen many witches of the sisterhoods in my long life. And only the Grand Witches wear that kind of hat. I know many of the younger Grand Witches, which means she is either one of the newer ones, which I don't think she is, or belongs to the Old Coven. Of course, these hats can be faked, but I doubt that is the case here. Why? There are two feathers on it as decoration. I recognize these feathers and know which creatures they belong to. You don't just find these feathers on the ground or by accident; you don't get them as gifts either. You fight for them."

 

"What kind of feathers?" asked the guild master.

 

"A Rukh and Akhekh feather. Both Legendary-Rank monsters. Who can wrest a feather from them in battle...well, you know what I wanna tell. I wouldn't go so far as to say that this person could defeat either of them—that would be too absurd in itself—but the fact that she has these feathers makes her an opponent I would hate to have as an enemy. Especially not in a city with so many innocent people."

 

---

 

Unbeknownst to them, someone eavesdropped on their conversation. In the depths of the Ashen Realm, a being sat on a throne. At the words that were spoken by her old rival, a smile creeps slowly onto her face.

 

"Finally, someone worthy has appeared."