1151 Beneath the Farce

Name:The Devil's Cage Author:Rusty Dragon
The little farce in the temple side hall was still playing out.

Other than Tanya who treated it as a serious business, Ren was helpless against it, even the other intentional person who paid attention to the scene laughed coldly in his heart.

The person carefully left the place and took a detour around the grand hall in which the evening feast was held. After he went along the walls and left the temple, he entered the car that he had prepared beforehand.

The car then sped towards the outskirts of Forest City. 

Compared to the prosperous city center, the Forest City outskirts shared the scene was the same as every other city outskirts: broken, old, and had a smaller population.

So, if there was an inn located in a place like this, it would be fortunate and also alarming.

The fortunate ones would be the locals and the alarmed one would be outsiders.

The outsiders were referred to those who traveled from other cities and… those who came from the city center.

Despite the people all being from Forest City, the people living in the outskirts wouldn't treat those wealthy ones as one of their own.

Therefore, when the car stopped in front of the inn, the few locals at the entrance surrounded it with ill intentions but soon enough, these men retreated quicker than they gathered around.

A gun!

The driver was holding a threatening weapon!

"I want to see your boss, Quincy."

The driver got out of the car and headed towards the inn without the slightest intention of waiting.

However, the moment he stepped into the inn, he put away his gun because there was no need for the firearm anymore.

There were many familiar faces in the inn and it made the driver smile uncontrollably.

"I thought I would be the first one who heard the news," said the driver.

The driver glanced over the familiar faces who were dressed in various outfits and had different day jobs.

"You wouldn't be the first but definitely the first who gives us precise news!"

"How is the situation at the temple?"

Quincy, in a deep colored bartender outfit, poured a glass of wine for the driver and served him before asking the question.

"The Shoe's information is accurate."

"The new Majesty definitely suffered some serious injuries, hence he had to brush off Funeral Society with some lame farce."

"Of course, the way he brushed them off wasn't normal either!"

The driver took a sip off the glass of wine.

"What do you mean?" Quincy asked on behalf of his master.

The driver didn't speak straightforwardly this time, he held his glass and stayed quiet.

"Fine! If your information proves to be valuable, we will increase your pay by another 10%," said Quincy after looking at the people around and compromised with the silent driver.

"10%?"

"You… everyone really cared about that 10%?"

"You people are willing to just give up this hard to come by chance?"

The driver laughed and mocked everyone present.

"Enough, Welkor!"

"The others and I can pretend you didn't say anything but you have to stop!"

Quincy's face turned heavy and gloomy, he interrupted the driver's words with a decisive tone and his eyes even turned as sharp as a blade.

Welkor raised his hands up under the pressuring gaze.

"It's a joke! It's just a damn joke!" said Welkor.

"Hm, we treat it as a big joke as well!"

"Now, we need to discuss His Majesty's plan!"

Quincy nodded and the gloomy face was replaced by a smile, the suppressing atmosphere in the inn also went away. The discussion that happened afterward went on smoothly without accidents as well.

20 minutes later, the people in the inn left one after another.

Welkor was the earliest batch to leave but when the last one left the inn, Welkor turned back.

"Is there anything else? I thought I made myself clear, just proceed according to plan." Quincy raised a puzzled brow.

"A little private stuff. Give me a glass of Bourbon, no ice only lemon—that's the way to drink a smokey liquor."

"It retains the alcohol fragrance with a dash of zesty zing! Much better."

Welkor made his order as he took out a paper note and placed it on the bar counter.

"You can't add sugar though because you should want to retain the rich thick flavor! You can't satisfy both sides all the time! One cannot sell the cow and wish to drink the milk."

Quincy filled the glass with wine before adding fresh lemon slices, however throughout the process, his eyes were glued to that paper note on the counter.

There was a sentence written on it: two targets, one injured badly, one weak.

"It depends on the people though," Welkor made a comment with a hidden meaning.

"But there are chances that this will burst like a bubble in the end," Quincy mumbled softly.

"If you don't give it a try, how would you know if its the reflection of the moon in the well or real gold hidden under it?" Welkor curled up his lip when he saw Quincy become hesitant.

He knew Quincy was moved.

In fact, anyone would be moved in front of such a chance. 

If he wasn't alone and weak, Welkor wouldn't have invited Quincy to share the fruit as well but once he thought about the Fiend Exorcist and the guards in the temple, Welkor had to compromise.

Fortunately, he had two targets, one for each, perfectly accounted for!

"Promise?" Quincy asked in a testing manner.

"Promise, in the names of our respective ancestors, lineage, and future generation plus our names."

Welkor nodded and said the words that assured Quincy the most.

No one would violet their own name and ancestors while risking damaging themselves and their lineage. It would be a complete denial of oneself.

Once violated, even a God would fall.

Quincy raised his palm.

Welkor reached out his as well.

Both of them wanted to swear with a high-five.

Pak!

Two palms came together and caused a clear noise.

Then…

The two palms fell on the counter.

Both of them were shaken when they saw their respective palms on the counter.

They saw that the cuts at their wrists were clean while blood gushed out.

They saw the inn's door being pushed open by someone.

That someone walked into the inn and sat down with a dull face.

Both Quincy and Welkor started to tremble, because of both the pain and the fear.

Both of them never would have thought this person… No, no, no, His Majesty would appear in Forest City.

"Your, M-Majesty!" Quincy stuttered.

"Spare me!" Welkor was much more direct as he knelt down with one knee and begged.

However, his move didn't change anything. 

Other than his head, Welkor's body was sliced into a dozen pieces within a breath by a sharp invisible blade, scattering the chunks of meat on the ground.

Quincy's face turned white when he saw Welkor dead.

"The two of you are are different."

The God who sat in the inn said softly.

Immediately, Quincy's bleached face showed a slight blush but a moment after that, his body was drowned by the pain.

Similar to Welkor, Quincy was sliced into a dozen chunks as well.

Until death, Quincy widened his eyes as though he couldn't rest in peace.

"But the outcome for betraying me is the same."

While ignoring the restless dying expression on Quincy, the God reached out towards the blood tainted glass on the counter but…

Another hand was faster than him in picking the glass up.