[Inside the bandit camp]
The dimly lit tent swayed in the cold breeze, its walls lined with spoils of countless raids: golden chalices, torn banners, and weapons caked in dried blood.
Drazak, the infamous bandit leader, sat hunched over a crude map spread across the table. His massive hands clenched and unclenched in visible tension on his face.
A glowing crimson orb hovered in the air before him, pulsating faintly. Each flicker made his heart race with anxiety.
"Y-you called for me, my lord?" Drazak stammered, his voice unusually shaky for a man of his reputation.
The orb flared violently, its light casting twisted shadows across the tent. A voice, cold and dripping with disdain, boomed from within.
"Do you require another reminder of your place, Drazak?"
The bandit leader immediately fell to his knees, bowing his head so low that his forehead scraped the dirt.
"No, my lord! Forgive me. I only wish to report my progress… and ensure your plans remain undisturbed."
The orb's glow dimmed slightly, as if calmed. "Speak, then. And do not waste my time."
Drazak swallowed hard, his words spilling out in a rush. "My men have secured every path leading to Virella. Not a single soul has crossed the boundary without my knowledge.
"Good," the voice hissed, the satisfaction barely concealing its malice. "But vigilance is key. One mistake, Drazak, and your usefulness will end."
Drazak nodded rapidly, his thick neck bobbing like a puppet on strings. "O-of course, my lord. I assure you, no one will interfere with your plans."
The orb pulsed ominously. "See that they don't. You are a tool, Drazak—a blade I wield. Fail me, and you will know suffering that even death cannot end."
The light from the orb suddenly intensified, and Drazak felt its heat scorch his skin, as though its wrath could leap from its confines.
The orb flickered one final time before dimming completely, its eerie glow vanishing as it fell with a thud. Drazak remained on his knees, breathing heavily, as if the very air had been squeezed from his lungs during the exchange.
Just then, the flap of his tent rustled, and one of his lieutenants stepped in hesitantly.
"Boss… we've captured two travellers on the road from Valltherion to Virella, we would have shood them away but..."
Drazak's eyes widened, fear flashing across his face for a brief moment before he masked it with a growl. He rose to his feet, his towering form casting a menacing shadow.
"What's the problem then? Send them back to Valltherion" He roared realising that his time was being wasted.
The subordinate hesitated. "They come from opposite direction, boss. Not from Valltherion… they came from Virella "
Drazak cursed under his breath, his mind racing. His gaze darted to the now-dormant orb, a chill running down his spine. "Get them. Alive," he barked. "No one could have returned alive from that shithole!"
The lieutenant nodded and sprinted out of the tent.Ray and Seraphine were then shoved into the tent, their hands bound.
Ray's sharp eyes immediately took in the details—the ornate demonic runes on the bandit leader's blade resting on his feet and residual demonic energy - which he was quite familiar with- emanating from the crimson orb on the table.
'That transmission orb must be linked to demonic realm, most probably to Asmodeus. As I thought, this was not just a random bandit camp'
The leader leaned forward, his hand reaching to his blade."You came from the cursed town? Who are you?"
Ray's mind raced. The bandit leader's words and the demonic energy in the air painted a vivid picture.
He had no choice but to gamble. Drawing a deep breath, he tilted his head back, his expression twisting into one of dark amusement.
[Fallen's mark debuff activated!]
[Increased reputation with dark faction]
[Curse 'Sovereign of the Abyss' is reacting with the surrounding energy]
"You dare question me?" Ray's voice dropped, laced with cold authority. "You should bow instead."
The bandit leader froze, his eyes darting to the faint crimson mark emerging on Ray's right eye—the unmistakable sigil of his lord, Asmodeus.
"You—" the leader began, his tone faltering.
"Correct," Ray interrupted, stepping forward as if he weren't bound at all. He projected such confidence that even Seraphine felt as If she was meeting him for the first time.
She silently stood there watching the scene unfold. In her hands, she hid a small orb given to her by Ray just before being captured.
"Princess, keep discharging your divine mana into this orb until it empties. We cannot, at any cost, let them identify you to be the Celestial princess. Okay?"
It was the same Crystalline orb of resonance that Ray had looted from the Archangel which had the ability to store divine mana.
"Did Asmodeus not inform you of my arrival? Or do I need to inform him of your incompetence?"
The lieutenant beside the bandit leader shifted uneasily. Ray suppressed a smirk. His curse and his elevated reputation with the dark faction were working as he'd hoped.
The bandit leader fell to one knee instantly, his pride barely holding his voice steady. "Forgive me, my lord. We… were not informed."
Ray didn't break his stride. "A delay, no doubt. I'm here on urgent business. This woman—"
he gestured subtly toward Seraphine, whose divine aura was barely being restrained by the orb,
"—is under my protection. Asmodeus himself has plans for her, and I'll personally see to it that she isn't harmed."
Seraphine's eyes widened, but she stayed silent, sensing Ray's fragile act.
The bandit leader hesitated. "But my lord, her aura… I can feel it it's divine—"
'Wha- how high is even his level? We are not returning alive if any misstep occurs'
[Warning! World quest is in danger of failing!]
Ray's eyes blazed with feigned anger. "Do you dare question the methods of Asmodeus? Shall I summon his wrath here and now?"
The leader immediately bowed lower. "No, my lord. Forgive me."
Ray turned to the lieutenant, pointing at him as if issuing orders. "You will ensure that these men do not interfere with my mission. If they so much as breathe the wrong way, I will hold you personally responsible." He ordered, demonic aura from his curse materialising as dark strands.
The man in question nodded stiffly, his form wavering as he stepped back.
Ray grabbed Seraphine by the arm, dragging her toward the tent's exit. His voice, cold and commanding, cut through the silence. "We'll be on our way now. Do not disappoint Asmodeus again."
The bandit leader's intense gaze lingered on Ray as he rose from his knee, his mind spinning at the audacity of the supposed emissary.
He studied the woman beside him, her restrained divine aura flickering at the edges like sunlight trapped behind storm clouds.
Something didn't sit right, but he dared not act without proof.
"Forgive my boldness, my lord," the bandit leader said, his voice measured. "But I was not informed you'd be passing through Valtherion. Shouldn't your route take you to Ironvale instead? Surely, you're aware of the preparations there."
Ray's mind raced. Ironvale. He could not at all remember the name. He tucked the detail away for later. For now, he couldn't afford to falter.
Ray raised a brow, feigning disdain. "And now you question my path? Shall I remind you that my orders come directly from Asmodeus? Or are you suggesting he has miscalculated?"
The leader stiffened. "Of course not, my lord. Forgive my insolence."
Satisfied that he'd deflected the suspicion for now, Ray motioned to Seraphine. "We'll be leaving immediately. Delay us further, and I'll ensure Asmodeus hears of your insolence."
The leader nodded, but his sharp eyes lingered on Seraphine, doubt gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.
He dared not act openly, but something about the girl's aura felt too… radiant, too powerful.
As Ray and Seraphine exited the tent, the leader feeling somewhat suspicious request them- "Please wait," he murmured. "Stay here. I need to confirm something."
Outside the camp, Ray leaned closer to Seraphine. "Change of plans. We are escaping rignt now!"
Seraphine still stunned by his presence of mind in there didn't argue, her instincts warning her of the danger enough.
The bandit leader returned to the table and reached for the glowing crimson orb—his connection to Asmodeus.
The leader froze mid-way, his hand darting to the table where the orb had been just moments before. His eyes widened in realization. The orb was gone.
"Impossible…" he whispered, panic rising in his chest. "The emissary… he stole it."
He turned to his subordinates, his voice booming. "Find them! Now! They're spies—kill them both!"