"A special treasure?" Alavin had pondered many reasons and even considered this, but what sort of treasure could bring about such dire consequences?

"The Lord of the Keep is not one to disregard the lives of Stormcast for mere trinkets. I suspect... they may have truly met their demise."

Alavin's expression grew grim. "I will get to the bottom of this."

"The Grand Elder holds great power in Cobalt Strike, second only to one. If he truly sets his mind to deal with you, you could be in grave danger. My lord, I truly wish you would not remain in Cobalt Strike." "Cobalt Strike has thirty Elders. It's not just the Grand Elder, who can dictate matters. He may take me down, yes, but if he tries to kill me, the other Elders won't allow it. Grant me some time, I will prove my worth to all the Elders of Cobalt Strike, and I believe someone will stand by me."

Now, Alavin's resolve to join The Clash of Eight Orders was even stronger, not just to participate, but to strive for a top ranking with all his might.

"Lucan, promise me something, will you?"

"Speak, my lord."

"No matter what, protect my kin, and protect the townsfolk here. At most in half a year, I will return with a writ of pardon, and then... we... will go home together." Alavin's gaze was resolute, and his words sounded almost like a vow.

"Half a year?"

"Half a year! I will return for sure."

"My lord, heed my counsel, leave here..."

"Promise me!"

Lucan sighed softly and nodded in assurance. "Rest easy, my lord, I will protect everyone here. The events of last night will not repeat." "Where is Elder Vandill now?"

"In the third mining district. There's been an incident, so he won't return for a day or two."

"I must go now, but before I leave, I will handle Grennan personally. Make sure you all have alibis; don't get tangled in this afterward."

When Alavin returned to the small courtyard, dawn was just breaking, and everyone had gone to the manor to toil, pretending as if nothing had happened, keen not to draw any unnecessary attention.

In the manor, Grennan had drunken himself into a stupor the previous night and only staggered awake by noon. As he got out of bed, he saw Oda cleaning the room. "Little Oda, why'd you come in yourself today? Not afraid I'll gobble you up? Heh heh."

"Would you treat my kin well?" Oda suddenly looked up and asked.

Grennan was groggy for a moment, then sobered up. "That'll depend on what you do."

"Do I still owe you ten advanced magical ores?"

"What do you think?" Grennan's eyes gleamed.

"Come alone to the western hills, ten leagues from the manor at dusk. I don't want anyone to see, and you must never trouble my kin again afterward." Oda left these words and hurried out of the room. Ah-ha? Grennan chuckled! What did she mean? Had the little lass finally seen sense? It seemed his threats were effective, and she couldn't hold out anymore.

Grennan quickly got up, bathed comfortably in the bathhouse, and put on clean clothes. But, he was a coward at heart, and secretly brought along two Cobalt Strike Protégés. He arefully avoided their guards and slipped away to the western hills.

The path was rough, and by the time he reached the hills, it was already evening. He ordered the two guards to stay at the base of the hills and hide, while he excitedly ventured deeper into the woods.

"Oda?

"I've arrived, where are you?

"Don't be shy. I just want to chat about life and dreams."

Grennan wandered through the woods, stealthily searching for Oda, at ease and relishing the thrill.

Suddenly, a muffled thump came from behind him, followed by a scream that echoed eerily through the dense forest. "Who's there?" Grennan immediately became alert, looking in the direction of the sound, which seemed to come from where one of the Protégés was hiding.

More muffled thumps followed from another direction as if a fierce fight was underway, but soon the noises ceased. Grennan's heart skipped a beat. Could this be a trap? He called out the names of his two Protégés, but there was no response for a long time.

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