Chapter Twenty: Hidden Motives

"Where is this place?"
A group of people appeared in a small grove, glancing at one another, none of them having expected the teleportation to land them in a desolate wilderness.

At first, they all thought it would send them straight into the royal city of Eireland.

Now, lost here without any sense of direction, how could they possibly accomplish their mission?

After all, their task was time-bound; if they failed to complete it within half a month, whether they’d even remain themselves was uncertain.

The party raised their left hands, frowning at the marks on the backs.

A blood clan duke had left those marks, which none of them could remove.

“For now, let’s figure out exactly where we are,” Nightshade suggested.

“No objections,” the four Paladin brothers nodded in agreement.

“Fine,” Wen Feng replied coolly.

“I can take one direction,” Boya said with a gentle smile, her every gesture hinting at the allure of a mature woman. Her voice was soft, tempting, but none present were ordinary; thus, they were unaffected.

“My puppets can scout one side as well,” Nightshade offered.

“My little creatures can handle another,” the old man said, puffing his pipe, his features blurred by the swirling smoke.

After three spoke, all eyes turned to the others—mainly the Paladins and Wen Feng; Murong Xun was ignored altogether.

What could they expect from a mere lifestyle player? Were he not a character specified by Duke Ephesoya, they’d have gladly rid themselves of such dead weight, for even killing him might not yield the Dark Ramen directly.

Unconcerned by their disregard, Murong Xun enjoyed his freedom. Hiding himself was to his advantage.

A truly formidable person isn’t measured by sheer power, but by how little others know of his cards.

Just like the characters penned by Master Gu; they seemed insignificant, yet many formidable experts had fallen to them.

“I’ll take the last direction,” Wen Feng said, removing the sword case from his back and planting it heavily in the earth. Through this act, an intangible wave spread outward.

Boya, hesitating not, transformed into a sleek leopard, choosing a direction at random and bounding away.

“Hehehe,” the old man chuckled wickedly, blowing out smoke as a buzzing sounded from his sleeve; several mosquito-like creatures emerged and flew eastward.

Seeing the three pick their routes, Nightshade wasted no further time, retrieving mechanical spiders from his personal space and setting them on the ground.

Though small, these mechanical spiders scurried forward at astonishing speed, quickly vanishing from sight.

“While we’re at it, shouldn’t we come up with a plan?” With all four directions covered, Nightshade couldn’t help but speak up.

“Plan, my foot!” The fourth Paladin snapped impatiently.

“Who made you leader? We haven’t even figured out what’s going on in Eireland’s royal city. What use is a plan now?”

Nightshade smiled and nodded, saying nothing more, seeming not to take the words to heart. But what he truly thought was known only to himself.

Murong Xun observed coldly, never interjecting. In their eyes, he was just a lifestyle player.

So he continued to play his part quietly—what wasn’t his concern, he wouldn’t meddle in.

Among them, whether the four Paladins or Sword Song, all hailed from higher inner circles.

Their strength was plainly above the rest.

As for the old man, Boya, and Nightshade, each concealed their true power, revealing nothing.

Truthfully, even Murong Xun himself was hiding his real abilities.

He wondered, back in the castle, what the so-called Wolf Steward had relied on to gauge their strength.

Clearly, there must have been loopholes.

At the very least, the steward hadn’t noticed Murong Xun wasn’t really a lifestyle player.

And earlier, the man they saw fighting outside—clearly from the same place as Sword Song—yet even his prowess hadn’t earned him a seat among them.

“There’s something!” Suddenly, Sword Song opened his tightly shut eyes.

“What is it?” the others inquired.

“In my scouted direction, there’s a battle underway, and the combatant is strong. Due to the distance, I can’t tell if it’s a player.”

“That guy?” The four Paladins suddenly looked in one direction.

“It must be her,” the eldest affirmed.

“No mistaking that thunderclap!”

“You know them?” Wen Feng frowned.

“Tch.”

The second brother seemed dismissive, but ultimately, fearful of Wen Feng, he explained.

“With all that noise, lightning and thunder—who else but that bastard?”

The third’s expression was sour, as if he had a personal grudge.

“Lightning and thunder?” Wen Feng pictured a figure in his mind.

“Wang Junfeng? (Thanks to reader Tian Yi Ya for the character)”

“Who else?” the second said bitterly.

The four wore similar expressions now.

“And who knows if Fang Yige (Thanks to reader Tian Yi Ya for the character) is around—if not…” The fourth Paladin didn’t finish; instead, the four vanished from their spots, heading toward the source of the sound.

Wen Feng said nothing, following after them, his movements light as he leapt through the woods, the heavy sword case not hindering him at all.

“Heh, let’s take a look. Seems like there’ll be a good show,” the old man snickered, trailing after.

“I’ll go up and see. You wait here for Boya’s return,” Nightshade said, hurrying off.

If those from the higher regions cared, it was surely extraordinary.

Murong Xun remained indifferent, standing where he was.

“Why aren’t you going?” Suddenly, a voice sounded behind him, warm breath hitting his neck.

Murong Xun stiffened, instinctively reaching for his blade, but restrained himself.

“You didn’t go scouting?”

He didn’t turn.

“Boring.”

Not getting the answer she wanted, Boya found it dull.

“I went, circled the area, gained a bit, so I came back. Didn’t expect to overhear something interesting.”

“None of my concern,” Murong Xun replied, uninterested, his mind still occupied with the newly acquired talent.