Stanley's gaze fell upon the manor standing before him, its thick bluestone walls as sturdy as a castle's. A hint of contemplation flickered in his eyes as he nodded slightly.
Despite being a den of iniquity, the Slums were not devoid of wealthy merchants. In fact, the annual wealth generated in this wicked land rivaled that of other urban areas. It's just that most people earned enough to sustain their lives, hardly getting a chance to spend lavishly.
Upon Stanley's arrival with the guide, a group of dwarven guards promptly opened the iron-fortified gates of the manor, inviting them inside.
"Welcome, Lord Nathan," the guide greeted courteously, making no attempt to enter further. With a subtle gesture, he signaled for two guards to lead the way.
Stanley observed silently, his eyes beneath the shadow of his cloak sharp as a falcon's.
The expansive manor resembled a palace, a stark contrast to the dilapidated Slums outside. Rare and exotic subterranean plants, magical fountains spraying water, angelic statues crafted by elven artisans, and all manner of luxurious structures adorned the grounds.
Compared to the outside, it felt like stepping into an ethereal kingdom of gods, a place of tranquility and peace, utterly unimaginable in the same urban area as the sin-ridden district.
After a while, Stanley arrived at the main hall with the guide.
As the intricately carved doors swung open, the two guards exited, leaving Stanley and the guide in solitary communion. With quiet deference, the guide instinctively retreated to a corner, understanding his place in the unfolding scene.
Before Stanley stretched a resplendently lit hall, brought to life by the glow of magical lights. The illumination, albeit faint, revealed only glimpses of Stanley's face, still concealed beneath the enigmatic shroud of his cloak.
In his forties, Stanley bore the unmistakable features of Nolan heritage— an aquiline nose, piercing blue eyes, and a countenance adorned with freckles that spoke of countless sunlit days.
Yet, it was the long scar etched across his face that drew immediate attention, adding an indescribable layer of menace to his overall demeanor. The scar, like a silent narrative, hinted at untold tales of trials and tribulations, veiled in the shadow of his imposing presence.
However, the most striking feature was the coldness in his blue eyes, akin to a venomous snake poised to strike at any moment.
The hush fell like a shroud as Stanley entered. Over a dozen heads swiveled his way, revealing a tapestry of faces - some etched with age and experience, others hidden behind masks or the concealing shadows of their hoods.
He met their gazes unflinchingly, his own eyes narrowing beneath the brim of his hat. This wasn't his first foray into these clandestine gatherings, but something felt different this time. A subtle shift, a ripple in the power that hummed beneath the surface of the room.
In the past, the seemingly mundane participants had blended seamlessly into the background. Now, their auras pulsed with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. Even the handful of ordinary humans seemed to vibrate with a newfound awareness, their eyes holding an unsettling glint of knowledge.
But it was the being to his left that truly sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. Eight limbs, powerful and sinuous, sprouted from its torso, ending in razor-sharp claws. Its lower body resembled a serpent coiled for attack, its scales glinting faintly in the magical light. It was undeniably alien, and Stanley instinctively knew it posed the greatest threat in the room.
Anxiety warred with a strange sense of exhilaration within him. Reaching level beta had opened his eyes to a world of hidden power, a world where the line between human and other was blurred. This gathering was a microcosm of that reality, a dangerous dance of shadows and secrets.
An abyssal creature, an eight-armed snake demon, level beta plus. The combat prowess of this creature was formidable, and even as a level beta professional, Stanley had no desire to cross paths with it.
When the eight-armed snake demon caught Stanley's gaze, its slender green eyes narrowed, its long forked tongue flicking out, and a sinister smile playing at the corners of its lips.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Stanley quickly averted his eyes, turning his attention elsewhere.
The figure next to the eight-armed snake demon exuded an odor of decay and death, a pale lich that also elicited a frown from Stanley.
An undead lich, level beta minus.
Though its level didn't reach beta, the threat posed by this malevolent entity was no less than that of the level beta plus eight-armed snake demon.
Moreover, several figures who had chosen to conceal their true forms also instilled a sense of unease within him.
Only after advancing to level beta did Stanley realize the horrors lurking beneath the surface of Green City.
The largest city in the south was far more complex than it seemed.
And this sinful land in the Southern District was not as easily understood as it appeared.
"Good evening, Mr. Stanley," greeted an elderly man seated at the head of the table, his gray hair neatly combed and clad in a black tailcoat. He appeared to be in his early sixties, his demeanor polite and respectful.
"Well met, Viscount Bernard. It's an honor to visit your esteemed manor," Stanley replied, offering a courteous chest-held salute, demonstrating due respect.
This was the owner of the manor, Viscount Bernard. No one knew the old man's last name, but everyone addressed him by this title.
As for Viscount Bernard's strength, the mere fact that he could command such a gathering of formidable beings spoke volumes.
Stanley turned and removed his hooded cloak, revealing his face clearly to everyone in the room.
His tall, aquiline nose, narrow cheeks, prominent scar, and piercing eyes created an intimidating and somewhat sinister impression.
However, the individuals present were not easily fazed, their expressions remaining unchanged.
Viscount Berner smiled amicably at the crowd, his aristocratic demeanor on full display, and declared in a clear voice, "With the arrival of the representatives from the Church of the Late Clock, this Dark Covenant meeting shall now officially commence."
Dark Covenant. If these words reached Reid's ears, his eyes would widen in surprise.
For Amy's attribute page displayed a vice president attribute of the Dark Covenant, yet he had never paid much attention to it.
"As you wish,"
"Viscount Bernard, please proceed."
The murmuring voices of the crowd quickly subsided.
"The topic of our discussion this evening is the Scarlet Mage Tower..." At the mention of this name, the eight-armed snake demon's interest piqued, its eyes shifting from Stanley to Viscount Bernard.
"The Scarlet Mage Tower has sold an astounding number of scrolls during this period. According to my calculations, the figure has exceeded 10,000. Moreover, they have secured cooperative agreements with five major chambers of commerce in Green City, ensuring a steady supply of magic scrolls in the future.
The Scarlet Mage Tower's scroll production has spanned less than half a year, a rate of efficiency that simply cannot be achieved with their current resources.
Even the White Tower, where the great mage Spark resides, would struggle to accomplish such a feat.
Therefore, I suspect that the other party has acquired the Twelve Magic Scrolls."
Viscount Bernard's words sent shockwaves through the room.
"The Twelve Magic Scrolls?!! Isn't that the legendary supreme artifact?
A cloaked figure exclaimed in surprise.
"It is said that there are a total of twelve Twelve Magic Scrolls, supreme artifacts crafted by the Creator himself. Each scroll possesses unimaginable power. How could the Scarlet Mage Tower possibly possess such an artifact?"
A keen interest sparked in the undead lich's eyes. Magic was his true passion.
Viscount Bernard's eyes flickered with an inscrutable expression.
"The twilight of the gods is upon us, and the great evil gods shall once again rule the world. It is no coincidence that such an artifact has emerged.
The tone was resolute.
"We must seize this artifact, whatever the cost!"
"But the Scarlet Mage Tower is under the protection of the White Tower, and as long as the extraordinary mage exists, no one can destroy Green City..."
The eight-armed snake demon's voice was chilling, its words carrying a palpable sense of dread.
In this city, only the being that had become extraordinary more than a hundred years ago truly frightened him.
No one understood the power of the extraordinary better than him, no!
"I have devised a plan to deal with the extraordinary." Viscount Bernard's tone was firm and unwavering.
Though the extraordinary was nearly invincible, there might be a way to circumvent its power.
"But what if the Scarlet Mage Tower doesn't possess an artifact?" Stanley couldn't help but interject, "If they have other means, won't our risks be in vain?"
"Not an artifact?
Mr. Stanley, acquiring the method to produce magic scrolls on a large scale is more than enough.
Do you truly believe the benefits of producing hundreds of thousands of magic scrolls daily would be inferior to an artifact?
Viscount Bernard's voice conveyed unshakeable self-assurance. No matter how powerful a professional might be, they still required sufficient Kimpuck to acquire what they desired.
The crowd fell silent for a moment, their eyes gleaming with avarice.
Magic scrolls represented wealth and power. If they could obtain the method for mass-producing magic scrolls, their influence and power would expand rapidly.
No one could resist such temptation.
In the silence, a clandestine meeting targeting the Scarlet Mage Tower was taking shape.
Among those present were devoted followers of evil gods, leaders of underground organizations, undead liches lurking in the shadows, and malevolent alien races.
Events were unfolding in an unknown direction.