Immediately Belialthorn stepped inside he knew his guest wasn't an ordinary person. The chairs and tables in the room had been cleared, leaving only a single table and three chairs in the middle of the room.
On one of the chairs sat a man drinking tea. He was... large. That was what Belialthorn could describe him as. His fat body almost spilled over the chair and the hands holding the cup were meaty, with thick short fingers.
Behind his chair are two tall individuals cloaked in black robes. His guards, Belialthorn assumed.
His dark eyes were set deep in his fat-covered face. "So you are the newbie that had turned my town ablaze with gossip."
His town? Belialthorn knew he wasn't Noble so what does he mean by his town? He took a guess. "Word on the street is that the true owners of Havenbrook are back."
The room stilled and the man's eyes gleamed as red energy shrouded him briefly, his aura slipping out before he could clamp it back but Belialthorn had already taken a step back, his hand going to Rota's arm to drag her with him.
Belialthorn blinked. What was that? This man was strong! The strongest he had seen so far in the human world. His aura, before he withdrew was of raw power that scraped his skin.
This man was stronger than him, even in his Demon form, Belialthorn could tell from that aura that he briefly flexed.
The man laughed, sounding like a dying beast. "Words on the street are not what is on the street and I'm sure you know it too boy."
Belialthorn shrugged. "And what if the real owners are here for it now? After all, owners take all."
"Wrong, winners....power takes all." He said silently.
Belialthorn couldn't truly disagree with that. "I've forgotten your name." He said instead.
The man narrowed his eyes. "That was because I never said it. But first, you are my guest why don't you sit?"
It wasn't a request and it annoyed Belialthorn that he couldn't ignore the subtle command, but he knew that the man before was too dangerous to ignore, not to talk of those two dark-cloaked men behind him.
Rota and Belialthorn sat down.
"You want to know my name? I am Percival Montague, Master of the Havenbrook Hunter's Association." Percival said, smacking his thick lips together as he drank another cup full of tea. One of the men beside him silently poured another cup.
Rota tensed. This man before them was the leader of the Hunter's Association in Havenbrook. That meant they were in trouble. Today just kept getting worse.
"So you lead the Hunter's Association here. No wonder you are claiming this town as yours but aren't you forgetting other people? Like the Holy Church." Belialthorn smirked. He enjoyed the tightening of the muscles around Percival's mouth.
"The Holy Church humm." Percival looked at him under his eyes. "Sure they have a claim too. We did turn this town into something together."
"Yes. But I'm sure that's not why you were here in the middle of the night, drinking tea with me." Belialthorn said.
Rota looked between the two, noticing the way the tension in the room kept rising. She hoped no more fight tonight because if there should be a fight now, she already knew they were dead.
"As much as the tea the innkeeper served me was good, I'm not here because of that. I'm here because of you, Thorn." Percival said his black eyes gleaming.
Belialthorn thought as much and it stained his mood with surge of hatred. All he wanted was food and sleep but it had been thwarted once by Alaric and now this?
"I'm not working in a brothel." Belialthorn's voice was clipped and flat, taking Percival aback.
"What? Brothel?" He blinked before his eyes narrowed with a cruel light. "It's not wise to make a joke of me Thorn. People lose their heads for it."
He said it so casually that Belialthorn believed him, so he arranged his face into a neutral expression and spoke. "Sorry for that Master Percival but I really can't fathom why you are here to see a low-level hunter like me."
Percival snorted, sounding like a squeaking piglet. "You have a smooth tongue, just like the report said but that won't work on me. We both know why I am here."
Belialthorn didn't actually but he kept silent since there was nothing to gain with Percival knowing of his ignorance. What made him wish he was as powerful as the other Demon Prince was when Percival said, something about "the report".
So they had been keeping their eyes on them. For how long? It made him a little anxious. What about where he was from? Could they know that? He doubted it. They would have come for his head then if they knew.
"And what have you found out about us through the report?" Belialthorn asked.
"Exactly what was sent to the Young Lord," Percival answered.
"Alaric?" Rota blurted out and everyone focused on her. She cleared her throat. "I meant Lord Alaric?"
"Yes, warrior Rota. The report of your potentials was given to...Lord Alaric and I assume he came to see you."
Belialthorn frowned. He thought the Alchemists— The Holy Church — gave it to Alaric. Does it mean the Holy Church and the Alchemists are working together against Alaric?
Nothing unexpected but something felt wrong in the relationship between the two organizations. A weak link that Belialthorn hoped to know and use to wiggle out because he had no intention of playing human's games.
All he was interested in was his new class, leveling up and maybe he could surpass his Demon form with it and shove his power against the Demon City's face.
Belialthorn shrugged. "I don't see the issue with that. You already told his lordship and we have respectfully declined his offer. You don't have to come here to sing our praise too."
Rota was amazed by his confidence and how he made polite words sound so arrogant and condescending. But she was also afraid of Master Percival's reaction.
Percival laughed. "I already told you that your smooth tongue is useless against me." He clasped his hands together. "Why I am here is that... I want you to join Alaric's team."