The coffee tasted bitter as the words left Orvox's mouth. If these people weren't here I would have probably started cursing to god on why he made something that was supposed to be simple into more complicated.

“So, now that has been done do you have any idea on what our target is going to appear next?" I said and instantly cringed at the word target, why was I acting like some sort of spy?

Orvox nodded slowly, setting his coffee cup down with a soft clink. “Yes. From what the higher ups suspect it seems the man is after the 4 famous artifacts of Gringol."

I leaned back in my chair, swirling the dregs of my coffee and watching the bitter liquid coat the sides of the mug. Artifacts. Of course. It was always about some holy relics or mystical trinkets with these fanatics.

To be honest what bugged me even now was that I couldn't figure out the reason for why Cedric was going through all this. If he had wanted to bring his daughter and wife back there were much easier ways than this.

"About the artifacts are all like Dainslif related to Spatial manipulation or do they have different abilities." Antreas asked her cup empty as she had drunken the bitter coffee in a single sip not showing any difference to her expression.

Orvox gave Antreas a sidelong glance, his expression as calm as ever, though I could see a hint of discomfort in his eyes. He wasn’t too fond of her presence here, but hadn't he been the one to invite her?

"Yes, well," he began, choosing his words carefully, "the artifacts in question are not as straightforward as Dainslif, which, as you noted, deals with spatial manipulation. The remaining three are far more ambiguous in their abilities—deliberately so, I'd imagine."

Antreas leaned forward slightly, her interest piqued despite her stoic demeanor. “So, they’re intentionally kept under wraps,” she stated rather than asked.

“Exactly,” Orvox confirmed, nodding. “The King holds the Armor of Solitude, an impenetrable suit said to protect against any form of attack. It’s rumored to be indestructible, although no one outside the royal circles has seen it in use.”

I immediately began jotting everything down into my tablet. This undoubtedly comes in handy at some point.

Orvox’s gaze flickered over to me before continuing, “The Church possesses the Ring of Enkindling. Its exact power is shrouded in mystery, but it is said to grant its wearer a form of divine insight or perhaps a blessing of sorts. Again, conjecture at best—no one outside the higher up truly knows.”

“And the last one?” I prompted.

“The City Guard controls the Book of binding,” Orvox said, almost with a sigh. “A tome believed to possess the ability to seal or bind anything, whether it be physical entities or concepts themselves. A rather terrifying weapon, if the rumors hold any truth.”

Orvox leaned back, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup absentmindedly. “And in two days,” he began, “the Church plans to put the Ring of Enkindling on public display.”

I shot him a skeptical glance. “Isn't that just inviting trouble? If Cedric’s after these artifacts, putting one out in the open seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”

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Orvox’s thin smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Indeed, that's precisely the point. The Church is counting on it.”

Antreas frowned, her eyes narrowing. “A trap, then,” she murmured, piecing it together.

“Yes.” Orvox nodded. “Despite our best efforts, Cedric has proven... elusive. The Church believes that luring him out with the Ring will be the best opportunity to capture him once and for all. The defenses surrounding the Ring are extensive—at least on the surface. They want him to think it’s an opportunity he can’t pass up.”

I shook my head slowly, staring down at my now cold coffee. It was a risky play, one that relied on Cedric's desperation or arrogance. But if there was one thing I’d learned about people who were driven by some hidden pain or obsession, it was that they tended to walk into traps with their eyes wide open, hoping for something beyond what was being offered.

“That’s why they brought you on board,” Orvox continued, his gaze shifting between Antreas and me. “The Knights of Reed and... well, someone with your unique skills, Crowley. They need individuals who can adapt, who aren't bogged down by the Church's rigid protocols."

I leaned back, crossing my arms. “So that’s it then? We’re here to play the Church’s watchdogs?”

Orvox’s eyes hardened slightly, a rare crack in his otherwise placid demeanor. “If you’re feeling particularly ungrateful for the opportunity, Crowley, you’re free to leave. Your contract was never ironclad. You can walk out that door now, if you so choose.”

The air in the room seemed to thicken with tension as his words settled. For a moment, I considered it. Walk away, find some other job on Musspell that didn’t involve chasing after crazed men with a penchant for dangerous relics. The pay was good, but was it worth the headache?

I glanced at Antreas, who sat unmoving, her steely gaze fixed on Orvox. If she was fazed by his challenge, she didn't show it. The Knight of Reed had already made up her mind to see this through, it seemed.

With a sigh, I pushed my chair back and stood up. “I’ll stay,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “But let's be clear—if Cedric makes a move, I’m not interested in playing hero. I just want to finish this job and get out.”

Orvox’s stern expression softened, just a touch. “Fair enough, Crowley. That’s all we ask.”

He reached for a stack of folders on the table, sliding one over to me. “Inside is all the intel we’ve gathered on Cedric and his movements. Study it carefully. If we’re going to have any chance of stopping him, we need to know him better than he knows himself.”

I took the folder, flipping through the pages briefly. “And what about you?” I asked, nodding toward Antreas. “What’s your angle in all this?”

She didn’t answer immediately, instead locking eyes with Orvox, as if silently asking for permission. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and even. “I’m here to see justice done, no matter what form it takes.”

Her words were like a cold gust of wind, and I felt an uncomfortable shiver crawl up my spine. The Knights of Reed had a reputation for their relentless pursuit of their version of ‘justice,’ no matter who or what got in the way.

“Well then,” I said, snapping the folder shut. “Guess we’ll see just how this game of cat and mouse plays out. But don't expect me to dive headfirst into a trap for the sake of your holy relics. I’m here to get paid and get out.”

Orvox smiled faintly, as if he’d expected that answer all along. “I wouldn’t dream of asking anything more, Crowley. In two days, the Ring of Enkindling will be displayed at the Cathedral of Illumination. We’ll move out tomorrow night to get into position. Rest up and prepare yourself.”

As the meeting adjourned, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were heading straight into the jaws of something much bigger than any of us realized. Holy artifacts, Cedric’s cryptic motivations, and the shadows lurking behind the Church’s desperate gambit—it was all starting to feel like the kind of mess I’d spent years trying to avoid.

But here I was, once again diving into the thick of it.