“Very well,” Ibai said, more quietly now. “What was that you said earlier about the mission being messed up? Is there already fighting going on somewhere nearby?”
“Ah,” said Reever, “itching to join, eh? Yeah, the guys out front revealed themselves to someone, and now they’re scrambling to kill the guy before he makes it back here.”
“You are not scrambling along with them?” Ibai asked.
“Orders from above,” said Caster. “Besides, if we did that, we would lose many strategic positions. Even while invisible, it is quite time-consuming to move around this place without alerting anyone. If someone sees a door opening on its own or hears footsteps where there should be none, it could become problematic. And naturally, cameras only serve to complicate the issue.”
Ibai tilted his head. “Who do you take your orders from? Any names I would recognize?”
“Certainly,” said Caster. “Our sect answers directly to the Salesman. He is back at camp, if you would like to meet him.”
By now, Ibai had more or less intuited that these people belonged to Abolish, but that name was more than enough confirmation. Ivan, the Salesman of Death. Widely regarded as one of Morgunov’s strongest followers. “Back at camp?” Ibai asked. “He’s not here at Dunehall?”
Reever shook his head. “Unfortunately, even aberrations wouldn’t be able to hide his presence. But I’m sure he had other stuff to take care of, anyway.”
“Hey, I heard the Monster was there, too,” said Ted from earlier, not quite so loud this time.
“What? Why would the Monster be there?”
Ted gave a heaving shrug. “Heard he was looking for someone.”
“Even if that is true, it is none of our concern,” said Caster. And that was enough to shut them up again.
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every night at midnight PST by ~400 words.