As Isolde spoke, she reached out and lightly rubbed her fingertip along the rim of her teacup.
“You are a clever partner, Miss Isolde.”
Orren’s mask, hidden beneath the shadow of his perfect manners, tilted slightly. He seemed to appreciate her calm.
Then he spoke in a voice close to a murmur.
“However, before this dangerous revenge plan begins, I happen to have a piece of information that could save you a great deal of trouble.”
Isolde lifted her eyes toward him.
Her finger stopped on the edge of the cup, signaling for him to continue.
“Tomorrow night, Gray Dove Monastery will transport a batch of high-grade sacred relics to the Holy Court’s main city. Among them is one item that I believe will be key to completing the final wish.”
Isolde frowned slightly.
“What is it?”
“The Mooncrown Lock,” Orren said slowly.
The moment those three words left his mouth, Isolde’s palm suddenly burned again.
The contract mark formed by the Mooncrown Unicorn’s lingering final wish seemed to react strongly to the name.
Orren leaned back against his chair with effortless grace. The strange smile on his mask looked almost pleased.
“It is a chain forged from the horn cores of several young unicorns. It can seal hatred, curses, and every emotion related to darkness. Whoever possesses it may purify all evil in the world.”
Isolde almost laughed from anger.
“A lock made from unicorn horn cores, used to seal darkness?”
“The Holy Court certainly knows how to make full use of everything.”
Orren said softly, “To the Holy Court, that is not cruelty. It is sacred utilization.”
Isolde did not answer.
The contract mark in her palm only grew hotter.
She looked at Orren.
“So you mean that if I want to complete the final wish, I have to go to Gray Dove Monastery and steal the Mooncrown Lock?”
“I am merely offering a reasonable suggestion.”
“A suggestion so reasonable it just happens to send me to my death?”
“My honored lady, you cannot describe post-sale service that way.”
Isolde smiled faintly.
“Then how should I describe it?”
Orren answered with perfect seriousness.
“Dangerous, but precise.”
Isolde neither agreed nor argued.
She lifted the cup and slowly took a sip.
The hot tea slid down her throat, and her mind settled again.
She had to go to Gray Dove Monastery, but she could not storm the place head-on.
Her home ground was Sylvain Castle. Once she left it, she was only a fragile Soul-Stitcher.
She needed more information.
“How many people are stationed at Gray Dove Monastery?” Isolde asked.
“One hundred and thirty resident sisters, eleven clerics, and five hundred forty guard knights. The Mooncrown Lock is kept inside the Silent Bone Prayer Room. Security there is extremely strict.”
Orren glanced at her.
“A silver-robed Inquisitor is responsible for guarding it.”
At that point, Orren raised his head to look at her.
“People like that specialize in countering darkness, undead forces, curses, forbidden magic, and corruption. Given your current class state, things will become very troublesome if he notices you.”
Isolde lowered her head and glanced at her wrist.
Witch. Soul-Stitcher. Castle Boss.
Forget being seen by an Inquisitor. If she so much as stood at the Holy Court’s front door, the holy light itself would probably accuse her of polluting the air.
Fortunately, she still had the disguise created by the unicorn’s sacred nature. At least she would not be exposed immediately.
Isolde thought in silence for a while, then looked coldly at Orren.
“Orren, you said the Mooncrown Lock will be moved tomorrow night?”
“Yes.”
“Does anyone else know this information?”
Orren’s smile paused.
Isolde continued.
“Information about a sacred relic transport from the Holy Court cannot be known only by one merchant. If you can obtain it, others can too. If I’m guessing correctly, I won’t be the only one after the Mooncrown Lock tomorrow night.”
The candles in the dining room burned quietly.
Orren maintained his seated posture and said nothing.
Isolde went on.
“So did I fall into one of your wagers, or did I simply happen to receive an entry ticket?”
Orren’s voice became cheerful.
“You are far more interesting than Duke Valen.”
“Do not compare me to that thing.”
“My apologies.”
Orren gave a slight bow, though there was very little apology in his tone.
“Indeed, another group may visit Gray Dove Monastery tomorrow night. The Northern Witch-Hunters, the Black Tower, or perhaps the Descenders.”
Isolde’s eyes chilled in an instant.
Other players might be there too.
Orren saw her reaction, but he did not stop.
“Their target may not be the Mooncrown Lock, but they will make the situation chaotic. My suggestion is that you do not try to clear the field.”
“The muddier the water, the easier it will be for you to approach the Silent Bone Prayer Room.”
That was indeed the most reasonable plan.
But Isolde still had one major problem.
“Gray Dove Monastery is so far from here. How am I supposed to get there?”
Orren smiled with clear delight.
“I knew you would need this, so I prepared it for you.”
He took a long, narrow silver box from the inside of his cloak.
The lid opened.
Two gray stones lay quietly inside.
Mist moved slowly within them, as though each stone held a small piece of the night sky.
Different coordinate symbols had been carved into each stone.
Isolde’s gaze fell on them.
“Teleportation stones?”
Orren picked up the first one and toyed with it in his hand.
“To be precise, one-use fixed-point teleportation stones.”
“This one is set to the rear mountain of Gray Dove Monastery. The location is close to the corpse transport road. Patrols are sparse there, but you may encounter some rather unclean things.”
He picked up the second stone.
“This one is the return coordinate. It leads directly back to your castle.”
Isolde frowned.
“When did you mark my castle?”
Orren smiled.
“A merchant’s habit. Wherever one has been, one should always remember the road back.”
Isolde studied the teleportation stones in his hand and unconsciously curled her fingers.
She had to buy them.
Time was tight. If she traveled to the Northlands on foot, by the time she arrived, the Holy Court might already have tracked her down and blasted Goldie into rubble.
“Price,” Isolde said.
The smile on Orren’s mask turned greedy.
He raised one finger.
“One [Secret-Seeker Button].”
The corner of Isolde’s mouth twitched.
So that was what he had been waiting for.
Yesterday, she had relied on that [Secret-Seeker Button] to see through the loopholes in his contract and forcibly drag his transaction into a post-sale dispute.
She hadn’t expected him to start coveting it after only one night.
He truly was a crooked merchant.
Taking advantage of a crisis must have been a basic professional skill.
Isolde leaned back in her chair, her tone calm.
“Name something else.”
Orren shook his head.
“My honored lady, you should understand that teleportation stones are not ordinary goods.”
His fingertip rested lightly on the edge of the silver box, and his tone remained gentle.
“My time may be valuable, but my life is not. The most valuable things I carry are always my goods.”
“If death becomes unavoidable, a wandering merchant can always perish together with his merchandise.”
At that point, he smiled faintly.
“But what about you?”
“Will you choose to let the Mooncrown Unicorn’s final wish backlash against your soul, or will you remain in the castle and wait for the Holy Court to track you down and purify both you and this castle?”
Isolde said nothing.
On both sides of the long table, the shadows of the faceless servants stretched under the candlelight like a row of silent gallows.
Orren did not urge her.
He knew he had named an infuriating price.
He also knew that Isolde did not have many choices.
The Mooncrown Unicorn’s final wish had already wrapped itself around her, and the Holy Court was starting to lock onto the castle.
Before tomorrow night, she had to reach Gray Dove Monastery.
The teleportation stones were not a luxury.
They were survival tools.
And although the [Secret-Seeker Button] was precious, it could not carry her across the Northlands.
Isolde clenched her teeth inwardly.
She had truly been played by this man.
Somehow, this felt even more disgusting than outright robbery.