Ethan Walling? Who on earth is that? Murphy felt a twinge of frustration at the gap in his knowledge; despite trying his best to integrate into this world, it seemed he still had a few things to learn. And it wasn't just him – the seasoned military officers all sported a mix of confusion and surprise, eyeing the kneeling spy.

"Darn it, I hate it when people are more cryptic than my soap operas," Murphy thought as he secretly pulled up the stats of the seemingly ordinary messenger.

[Name: Ethan Walling

Race: Human

Level: 69 (Human Lord)

...]

Level 69? Murphy second-guessed what he saw. A level 69 spy? Across the whole world, not more than ten thousand beings, be they human, demon, or some yet unknown race, could claim to be at that level. And there it was, 'Human Lord', bold as brass. Using a lord as a spy? That's extravagance. If he really was a spy, his boss had to be the Hero himself.

Murphy pondered this, conveniently forgetting that the demons' best spy to date was, in fact, himself.

The spy had risen to his feet without waiting for permission, grinning all around him, "Come on, guys, lighten up, a smile wouldn't hurt."

At that point, Arwin seemed to accept whatever the reality was and, with a stern face, addressed the officers, "No need to worry. Allow me to formally introduce Mr. Ethan Walling, the current Duke of the Eastern Territory."

Arwin's introduction was like a stone thrown into stagnant water, causing ripples through everyone's minds.

"Well, blow me down," Murphy mentally exclaimed, face to face with one of the biggest lords around. It would be like drawing three legendary cards in a row if this were some collector's game. Too bad this wasn't a card game, and the three before him were far from being in his pocket. If anything, they were solid backers of the Hero – his own 'cards' were still toiling away back in demon fields.

Murphy quickly acclimated to the fact that three-quarters of the kingdom's dukes were now before him and began pondering the likelihood of taking them out right here. It would be a monumental advantage if possible.

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But killing them outright was off the table, which would incur severe penalties from the world's will, and turning them to demons then offing them as a 'friendly fire' wasn't realistic. There were only two ways to turn someone: a contract with the living or reanimating the deceased as demons. Neither option was viable here, not with these top-tier humans, so Murphy reluctantly shelved the idea and circled back to the main question: why was the Duke of the Eastern Territory here?

Right then, the spy moved his hands to his chin, finding a loose edge to a mask of sorts. With a flick of his head, he pulled off the disguise, revealing a dashing middle-aged man with silver hair flowing down to his neck.

Bowing with a smile, the man said, "Long time no see, Uncle Arwin, Uncle Raventa."

The two senior dukes just nodded, after which Raventa quipped, "What's the big idea, Ethan? Don't tell me you're here to lend a hand. You're as unpredictable as your old man."

Ethan showed no ire at the barb, instead, he scanned the room and spoke decidedly, "I've got intel for just the two of you."

The dukes, resigned, ended the feast with a signal, clearing out the tent – that meant everyone, including Murphy.

Back in his own tent, Murphy saw Pepe fiddling with their musket. Teasing, he commented, "Thought you didn't like it?"

"Used to," Pepe muttered, without turning, "but after seeing how you beefed up my gear, got me thinking I could tweak this too."

"So you're doing your own research now?" Murphy probed.

"Yeah, yeah, so stop ribbing me, okay? Or I might just shoot you," Pepe half-joked with mock annoyance.

Murphy was unconcerned, "That gun's good for scaring off humans below level 20. You could barely scratch yourself with it now, much less me."

"True," Pepe conceded, "If it's too weak, no point fixing it up..."

Urgent footsteps approached, and someone called from outside, "Mr. Murphy, are you there? Duke Arwin requests your urgent presence."

Recognizing the voice of the young guard assigned by the duke, Murphy raised an eyebrow. What were the old birds up to now? He instructed Pepe to keep tinkering and left the tent, following the guard back to the great tent he'd just left.

The atmosphere was lighter with only the three dukes present, making Murphy feel right at home as he sat down and took a sip of water. "Gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

"Is this your idea of a reliable young man?" Duke Walling across from Murphy sized him up with a skeptical frown.

Chiming in, Raventa teased, "Reliable? He's as wishy-washy as you, lad. Clever and slippery – bet he becomes a top-notch fence straddler like yourself."

"I am not wishy-washy!" Walling retorted. "I just have a clear view of the situation."

"Sure, sure," Raventa drawled, "That's East for 'I have endless excuses.'"

Walling was visibly irked but didn't argue further. His elders had the upper hand, both in rank and strength.

"Enough," Arwin interceded. "Ethan, tell him the situation again. He seems to be our best shot right now."

"Alright, alright." Ethan spread his hands, "Long story short, Uncle Arwin has a mission for you. He wants you to head to the King's territory and rescue his precious granddaughter."