The Witch’s Convent

Chapter 45: Bluffing



Hawthorne's face instantly filled with wariness as he silently took a step back, carefully choosing his words to respond, "Thank you, honorable Mage, for your assistance; I'm honored to have your appreciation…"

Rigorath's eyes flickered. As someone experienced, he clearly detected the alertness on Hawthorne's face.

He couldn't help but feel slightly puzzled: What's going on? Why did this little guy become wary after I introduced myself?

My name cannot be revealed, so...

Is this person actually not trustworthy, perhaps with a criminal background, which is why he's reacting this way?

Heh, that was a miscalculation on my part.

Haha, but this might be even better.

While this means I can't immediately take control of him tonight, in the long run, he seems to be a more suitable candidate...

A smile crept across his lips as he continued to play his original role, speaking to him kindly: "It seems you've sustained some injuries? Come, let me take a look; coincidentally, I know some healing spells."

With that, he stepped forward, intending to grab Hawthorne's wrist.

Hawthorne instinctively stepped back again, his mind racing. He didn't understand what this Demon Spawn was up to, but he knew very well that whatever this guy intended, he was no match for him!

He couldn't let him touch him!

But even if he couldn't overpower him, if they did engage in a fight, he would definitely come out worse for wear, so...

Intimidate him!

With that thought, Hawthorne quickly steadied himself and suddenly shouted, "Do the people from the Eighth Layer really lack insight?!"

In an instant, Rigorath's body stiffened, and his gaze turned uncertain: "What did you say?!"

He never expected that his absolutely confidential true identity would be so easily exposed by the other party!

Who is he? Where did he get this information?!

Hawthorne's eyes were locked on Rigorath. Seeing this Demon Spawn, who always wore a smile, so flustered, he realized that his initial plan had succeeded.

Now, the next step was to press on and scare him away!

"You should understand what I mean," he deliberately elongated his tone, speaking slowly to the demon masquerading as a human before him. "Back off, Rigorath. If you don't want your Master to scold you and embarrass you in front of the other seven nobles, then…"

"Today, you should just go back and honestly do your job. I can pretend that nothing happened tonight..."

He coaxed carefully, feeling a layer of cold sweat form on his forehead. Opposite him, Rigorath was also sweating.

Who is he?

How does he know these things?

Could he be an agent sent to the material world by Lord Asmontis or some other noble?

No, it shouldn't be…

His gaze locked onto Hawthorne's face, and he quickly overturned this assumption.

What kind of agent would be sent to the material world looking so attractive, someone who would draw attention wherever they went?

Moreover...

His overheated brain gradually cooled down as he began to analyze the situation before him with careful and meticulous scrutiny.

No, this guy...

He is bluffing!

What noble would send an agent to the material world whose true strength was so weak?

He had just been matched in a fight with a low-level human warrior and was being chased by a mad magical creature for his life!

This guy must be bluffing!

He had a suspicion in his heart, but he didn't dare to be certain. His eyes glimmered with magical light as he gazed at Hawthorne, then said slowly, "I see. Thank you for the reminder, my lord. I will leave immediately."

"However, may I ask why you are alone and in such a perilous situation? It is currently unsafe, and perhaps I could accompany you as a guard..."

Hawthorne's brows shot up in anger: "Is that something you can ask me?!"

As he spoke, his mind raced. Knowing that such a small piece of information wouldn't intimidate Rigorath, he racked his brain for the secrets of the archdevils, attempting to find one or two tidbits he could use to scare him off.

"I mean no ill will towards your master, Rigorath, but I warn you, curb your curiosity and don't expend too much energy on matters that you cannot afford to provoke." He continued, "After all, you wouldn't want your master's plans to build a dam on the River Styx in the First Layer of Hell to be known in full detail by Zaryel, would you?"

The words struck like thunder, leaving Rigorath's mind blank in an instant. He took a step back, opening his mouth, but it felt as though a pair of large hands were choking his throat, rendering him unable to utter a single word: "You—!"

How do you know about the Master's plans at Styx Dam?!

The River Styx, since the birth of the world, has flowed through all the realms. All the souls of the deceased, if not guided by a divine messenger to enter the domain of the deities they believe in, will have their memories washed away here, and will then be determined whether to be reincarnated or to fall into hell.

This river contains countless souls, making it an absolute treasure trove for devils that crave soul power. The Styx Dam is equivalent to robbing the core interests of archdevils in other tiers, so this operation must be kept secret—even he had only recently learned about it!

He... How could he possibly know?!

Is he really some big shot?

But why is he so weak and without any bodyguards beside him?

No, who is he really? He was thought to be just an ordinary mortal, but it turns out he's entangled in a much larger affair...

His mind was in turmoil, his expression uncertain. As a direct agent of an archdevil from the Eighth Layer of the Nine Hells, Rigorath was undoubtedly a smart person, and the more intelligent someone is, the more paranoid they tend to be. Especially after hearing Hawthorne's explosive information, his sharp mind began to race, and various bizarre associations shot forth in his head!

By his words, he cannot be my colleague, yet he knows the Master's secret plans. Could it be… he is an agent of the Witch King?

Or perhaps her new favorite?

He was unsure, his mind chaotic, when suddenly a voice echoed in his mind: "Rigorath, what are you hesitating for?"

"Forget what he said. Since his identity is exposed, just capture him, interrogate him for the real situation, and then brainwash him to erase this memory. That will solve everything!"

Rigorath's heart skipped a beat; this suggestion was incredibly bold. However, seeing Hawthorne standing there alone, with such weak power, this audacious idea began to grow uncontrollably in his mind!

I'm doing this to protect secrets. Even if I make a mistake, my intentions are good, so the noble won't blame me!

In that case...

He trembled as he extended a hand, preparing to cast a spell on Hawthorne.

Opposite him, seeing that Rigorath wouldn't back down, Hawthorne's heart raced. When he noticed Rigorath raising his hand, his pupils instantly constricted to the size of pinholes—

At that very moment, countless black mists suddenly rose from the ground, and thick, damp, gigantic dark green tentacles shot up from the fog, wrapping around Rigorath's body in an instant!

"Ugh—"

Dark energy surged from the tentacles, siphoning the Demon Spawn's Magic Power and vitality, forcing a pained roar from him: "Ugh, ugh, ah————!"

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