Porter frowned slightly.
"As far as my intel goes, I can't tell where his power comes from," she said. "I have little interest in its origin, anyway—we've only ever cooperated closely a couple of times."
Each time, she meant, involved several hundred rounds of going "deeply" together.
"I can only share some of his battle data with you. It's up to you whether you can deduce anything from it."
Daevyl nodded. "Go ahead. Based on your description, I should be able to judge the source of his power."
Porter proceeded to explain: "He has very strong spellcasting abilities, capable of casting all kinds of spells without pause, but I've never seen him reference a spellbook;"
"He claims to have received divine revelation, but it's well known the Goddess of Life is dead;"
"He certainly has protected the weak and smote evil, but he doesn't wear heavy armor, which suggests he isn't a paladin who draws power from sworn oaths…"
"The most important thing is, his strength increased explosively: when we first met, I could easily subdue him just based on physical endurance alone;"
"But now, even if my sisters and I take turns and use every technique while exhausting ourselves, it's nearly impossible to make him surrender…"
These seemingly proper words actually alluded to their passionate struggles in bed. Daevyl kept his polite smile, and it was impossible to tell if he caught the subtext.
He nodded repeatedly, offering encouraging "mmm"s, his eyes flickering, then suddenly straightened up. "I see."
Porter was interrupted but didn't mind, looking at him with curiosity. "Then, what do you think is the source of his power?"
Daevyl's smile was full of confidence. "A Seinite, formerly a beggar and drifter, suddenly soaring ahead and gaining formidable power…"
"He doesn't need a spellbook to cast spells, his mana reserves are almost unnatural, and his constitution has improved dramatically in a short time—even managing to go toe-to-toe with several powerful Amazons…"
"Setting aside the divine factor, there are plenty of examples like this in history…"
Porter looked thoroughly stunned. "Wait, are you saying…"
Daevyl nodded. "Exactly!"
Her expression turned very complicated. "I didn't expect that he'd actually sell his soul to demons…"
"This… this truly is a tragic tale."
She couldn't help but rest her hand on her forehead and sigh.
Daevyl frowned, unsure whether the woman was genuinely naïve or just playing dumb.
"Of course not. If he'd actually done such a thing, the monastery's nuns would have torn him to pieces by now," he continued. "What I mean is, the power hidden in his bloodline."
Porter listened carefully, barely able to hide her barely contained excitement. Although she hadn't succeeded yet, after all, she and her sisters had always been trying to steal his bloodline…
...
In the blink of an eye, several more days had passed.
The dwarven company headquarters was underground—in fact, it lay beneath a mountain, within an enormous warren of mining tunnels.
These fellows are obsessed with mining and digging, and after exhausting a mine, they never want to abandon it. Instead, they remodel the old tunnels into their strongholds, gradually forming sprawling dwarven underground cities.
The reason this place didn't collapse in the earthquake is the same as with the Haunted Gold Mine. The dwarves' major mines also lie deep beneath the plateau, and they've worked these places for ages.
This is one reason the Mountain People are willing to treat the dwarves as their own.
For Charles, it was his first time actually stepping into a dwarven "industrial park"—in truth, just one vast mine headquarters. Staring at the endless, branching tunnels, he couldn't help but find it strange.
After all, he wasn't a dwarf and wasn't in the habit of burrowing underground. In these airtight spaces, he always felt stifled.
But these were special times and he had to put up with it.
Since coming to the dwarven headquarters, Anno had been working hard to convince them to open up some outposts, mines, camps, or other resources—hoping to build a new large settlement, a second Rockseeker's Outpost.
But progress was painfully slow.
On one hand, although dwarves are humanity's most steadfast allies, opening up sites to outsiders would definitely hurt their company's short-term interests.
Though they'd rescued a group of dwarves, this favor wasn't enough to persuade the company to make such massive sacrifices.
Both sides were forced to keep haggling, compromising, and debating every detail to reach a mutually acceptable treaty.
On the other hand, any such agreement would require a mountain of written terms—and dwarves famously hate paperwork.
That's just the dwarven temperament—they adore mining and blacksmithing, but absolutely abhor books and documents, procrastinating as much as possible and working at a sluggish pace.
Anno was frustrated. She was deeply eager for a new settlement in the mountains, so all sides could gather, trade, exchange intel, cooperate, and be much more efficient at wiping out fiends.
Instead of the current muddle—where every group sends out a handful of scattered warriors, fighting alone, both inefficient and risky.
Charles, however, didn't mind. Since their group already had free access to the dwarven outpost, he advised Anno to keep seeking approval from Blackstaff Tower's leadership, leave paperwork to others, and just serve as a liaison.
Meanwhile, every day, she joined him—and, under the guidance of professional dwarven scouts, they led their group out to destroy demons, relying on dwarven intel.
Because the dwarven mines are deep in the mountains, most escaped earthquake damage but are now plagued by demon attacks.
Many of the major mines have become demon nests, shutting down all production and causing losses of tens of thousands of gold daily.
The Griffon Knights are elite, but their numbers are limited—they can't be everywhere. And the dwarves' own fiend-hunting teams—like the one Gandren had led earlier—aren't terribly reliable.
So, the dwarves are sorely lacking in truly reliable teams to exterminate fiends.
At present, Charles led his nuns, plus Anno's warriors, and simply took on the task themselves.
He wasn't in a rush. It was a good way for the nuns to gain battle experience, for him to rack up Purification Points, for Anno to keep training the troops, and to raise their prestige among the dwarves—what could be better?
Oh, and it was the perfect opportunity to showcase the blue dragons' Ion Beam Emitters to the dwarven guides.
During this period, the dwarves never stopped praising his powerful, destructive weapons—they were clearly interested, which also accomplished his product advertising goals. All in all, he got many benefits out of it.
Thus, he spent each day here taking on purification missions—every day was rewarding.
One evening, Charles was returning with the nuns from the field, heading back into the dwarven headquarters for dinner before reporting completion of their latest demon-cleansing quest.
After all, traveling in this cold, blustery wind was especially energy-draining. He fully intended to devour a big meal as his reward.
But before he ever reached the mess hall, he saw a dwarf come running, short legs pumping, calling out, "Mr. Charles, Master Gandren wants to see you!"
Instantly, Charles brightened.
Aha, the Storm Warhammer must be ready—he's calling me to pick it up!
"Wait—I'm coming!" he called back, then passed responsibility to Theresa, left the group, and dashed after the dwarf.
The two hurried through the mine tunnels, heading deeper underground. Torches blazed along the tunnel walls, making it as bright as midday.
Despite so many torches burning, the air was never short of oxygen. That's because these fires were fueled by contracts—or, perhaps, enslavement—with elemental lords: their flames gave light and heat, but consumed no air.
In short, Charles followed the dwarf deeper into the mine, where the temperature rose higher and higher, making him sweat and frown.
This was the dwarves' blacksmithy, where the fire elemental lord's power kept a furnace burning eternally, letting the dwarves work iron non-stop.
But the heat was almost unbearable.
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