669 groaned as he woke early and routinely dressed in his casual going-out garb of paisley overcoat, waistcoat, shirt, slacks and boots. He was dreading his next visit to the Peony Soap House.

Usually, he was eager to race to the place to meet up with his dates. Being loved by men made him feel safe, special and gave him euphoria to cope with his henchman will. Although, he had no idea what other type of life he would have picked if he had the option: being a henchman would definitely not be on his list. What was the Majestic Peace Order thinking by setting his Majestic Will to be a nameless henchman? His memories still lingered on the pains of disappointment at hearing the will verdict.

At the age of 16 years, every human had to line up at the Majestic Peace Order’s deity temple to receive their blessings from their god and their destined fate for the rest of their lives. This fate being the Majestic Will. The person would kneel before the deity statue where the Order’s priest would cast a power over their bowed head.

669 gulped as he recalled the moment of his will being cast upon him like pins and needles all over his body. When the physical pain had eased, his mental pain had lingered. Before the dark demonic statue of Zallayl (whose head was a cross between a goat and rat and lean body cross-legged on a thorn throne holding a sword in his six outstretched arms) he was told he had to forever give up his name to be a nameless henchman, where he could only be fodder for the demon overlords. Overnight he lost his friends, family and everything he had previously valued. His mind had been subjected to a mind magic that blocked or erased all traces of his former life, but it couldn’t erase his feelings for it.

“Stupid Majestic Will.” He sighed. There was no point lingering on a past he no longer remembered. Especially, when his present situation granted him a better version of henchman life. And the many lords he had escorted as the silent and shadowy henchmen had found their way into his bed. So all was good… for now.

He ambled down the stairs, through the corridors to the barroom where 777 was seated at one of the dining tables near the bar. The man was intensely reading through news articles and scrolls of reports that Morse had left behind for them to review.

“This is clearly more than fixing a broken window.” 777 muttered through a groan.

“Our dark overlord wants us to stay on this,” Shiyan austerely reminded them as he entered in his human form.

As a human, Shiyan’s hair was a short crop of silky white hair where a soft fringe flopped over naturally shaped eyebrows and graceful almond red eyes. His fair countenance was youthful of a twenty-something man, who looked docile and kind on first impressions. Until he opened his mouth to dish out stern commands. His body was lean to compliment the gray suit with red, open fly collared business shirt, he always wore. His polished dark loafers made squeak noises as he stepped up to their table to take a seat opposite 777.

When beasts had cultivated to a late stage golden core of their spirit energy, they were gifted with the ability to transform into a human form to ensure they could cultivate into greater mortality. This was one of their blessings of their Beast Majestic Will. Unlike natural-born humans, they weren’t allowed to cultivate higher than golden core. So Shiyan being at the late stage was also his maximum level, and this was fine by him.

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“I spoke with that Elcorn Demon from our office, he said that our boss wants to us to work with the Royal Guard to solve this case.”

“Why?” 669 frowned.

Shiyan dumped an arrow on the table before them. Upon first impressions, the arrow was of simple fine wood with steel head. 669 couldn’t see anything special about it.

“This is the arrow that shot at you guys, I was told. The Royal Guard had collected it and done some tests on it, but the materials left them with questions.”

The arrow was pushed closer to 669’s view. He sighed when he got the hint as to what they wanted from him. He activated his parasitic sight and examined the object at a molecular level; noticing an array of green and gray particles that represented a plant genus he wasn’t familiar with. Even the steel was of a dense blue that made clumps unfamiliar. He turned off his sight and lifted the arrow to sniff it, and gulped when he detected magnolia. The steel did feel familiar to the touch.

“The steel carries a magnolia scent but not poisonous. The wood isn’t from a tree I recognize.”

Shiyan nodded and eased back in his chair, accepting a cup of tea Reddy had stepped up to the table to serve him. “I doubt anyone here would. It’s from the Holy Order kingdom.”

“So that’s why we were playing guard to go near the border between the sides.” 669 mused with this mind logically ticking over possible reasons. Although, not even nature was exempt from the Majestic Will with magic imbued within plant genus to ensure they remained mutually exclusive to a side. So to see wood from the Holy Order kingdom was strange and might bring a risk to them.

“Wait! Having this on our table isn’t going to cause us trouble?”

Shiyan sighed as he waved a hand over the arrow to magically stow it away in his spacial ring, which held a gem that was set with spiritual realm for storage.

“Not anymore. Don’t worry, this is an exhibited item that’ll take back to the Royal Guard after this visit. But the fact that Holy Order is involved in some way complicates matters. The guard would need the presence of Demon Overlord Guards to make sure it all looks official.” Shiyan rose and flashed them a knowing wink. “So, whelp, keep going with the investigation and keep me updated, especially when you face troubles. Naturally, you can’t play detective, but your role doesn’t prohibit you from being an assistant when called upon.”

669 slammed his head on the table. It was just getting more and more troublesome. At that moment a tiny and petite bluebird winked into their view with magic and flew toward their table. It landed in the middle and faced 777.

“Message.” The bird barked loudly, which both jolted 669 into an upright position and made 777 wiggle a finger through his ear to pick off disturbed earwax.

Thunderbirds were tasked to be carrier messengers and couriers, but they had the ugliest voices: raspy and like tapping on tin cans. And were so damn loud. It was something to do with a magic side effect. In short, pretty looking birds with ugly voices.

“669. Meet me outside the Peony at noon.” The bird finished its barking and flew out of sight.

“Guess I’ve been summoned.” 669 sighed.

777 had returned his attention to his papers.

“Fine.”

669 dragged his feet out of their headquarters for the destination.