Viktor strode across the bridge toward the largest island on the third floor, the arena of sand where Sebekton would face the adventurers who managed to survive all the earlier trials in this watery realm.

  At its center stood a figure, draped in a robe that hung heavy with water, fabric clinging to the mass of writhing tentacles beneath. As he drew near, the figure bent in a bow.

  “Master.”

  “Orloth. Good to see you again.”

  The Acolyte lifted his face, the water running in rivulets down the tendrils coiling under the jawline, and Viktor found a pair of pure black orbs gazing at him.

  “Lady Celeste said that you had questions for me. About our little spy, if I hazard a guess?”

  “Yes,” Viktor said with a nod. “Now, let’s get down to business. How is Yvonne settling in at the caravan station?”

  “Exceptionally well, Master. She’s made herself quite popular there. She gets along with almost everyone, and she knows all their habits. By now, she’s mapped out who can be bought, who can be flattered, and who can be nudged with a little bit of blackmail.”

  Viktor let out a low chuckle. “As expected from one of His Majesty’s finest. Does that include Rennald?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” Orloth shook his head. “The Overseer is a careful man. He only talks to other people when it’s necessary. He wasn’t sociable before, and he’s even less so now. These days, he spends most of his time holed up in his quarters, so it’s even harder to learn anything about him.”

  “He’s got a family, yes?”

  Orloth nodded. “He has a wife and two children. They live in his estate on the east side. He goes home on weekends, then comes back to the station on the first working day, where he stays for the entire week.”

  “Siblings?”

  “Two brothers, one sister. He’s the eldest. Hamond, the middle one, handles the day-to-day running of the caravan station. Lately, with Rennald withdrawing from public eyes, Hamond is the one everyone answers to. The youngest brother, Eugen, manages the family’s land east of town: tending the farmlands, clearing the woods, that sort of thing. As for the sister, she doesn’t live in Daelin. She’s married to some merchant in Sargan and hasn’t been back home for years.”

  “You said Yvonne’s got leverage on almost everyone in the station, right? Hamond included?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Good. Then that was a thread he could pull in the future, though not without care. That man was Rennald’s brother and second-in-command, after all. A card that valuable must be held in reserve, played only when the game truly demanded it.

  “You also said Rennald is always at the station except on weekends?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Then how does he manage to stay out of sight?”

  “According to Yvonne, the top floor of the station is the most secure,” Orloth replied. “It serves as both his office and his residence. He keeps only a handful of servants with him, and very few employees are allowed to go up there. Even Yvonne has never set foot inside. But of course, if you wish, I could have her attempt an infiltration.”

  Very tempting, Viktor thought. Just one drop of ink from that Reliquary in Rennald’s office, then he would gain access to countless invaluable secrets. But the risk was also high. This wasn’t a move to take lightly.

  “No, not yet. But tell her to study the layout, the routines, everything. I want her ready to act the moment I give the word.”

  “Understood.”

  Then something dawned on Viktor.

  “Does she only give you a verbal report, or...?”

  “She writes everything down in detail,” Orloth replied. “When she speaks to me, it’s only to summarize the main points.”

  Good. That meant even if something happened to Yvonne, he would still have all the information she had gathered. Every name, every habit, every thread of leverage, meticulously cataloged on paper.

  “And where did you keep those written reports?” Viktor asked. He couldn’t imagine Orloth had brought the documents with him when he went back underwater. Surely he wouldn’t have had them destroyed just like that.

  “They are kept on the second floor, the inaccessible area where I ran my little interrogation with Yvonne...”

  Ah, right. That time when you planted a literal bug inside her head.

  “...and now Lady Celeste is going through them. She said that she could memorize everything. That way, even if the reports are lost, the information will not.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Oh?

  [Yes, my memory is unparalleled.]

  The Dungeon Core’s voice chimed in on the conversation between him and Orloth, emotionless as ever. Still, Viktor could detect the merest trace of smugness managing to weave its way through, threading itself into the seemingly flat, mechanical tone.

  How do you even read them, anyway? he asked. Flipping the pages, I mean.

  [Well, I have a goblin or a gnoll do that for me.]

  That works. Viktor chuckled. Well, he should just leave her to it.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” he told Orloth. “Has Yvonne caught wind of Dagnar and Brynhildr’s deaths?”

  “Yes, Master. She said the funeral was something of an event in town. She didn’t attend herself, but she’s heard all the details.”

  Viktor gave a slow nod. “Did she show any reaction to their deaths?”

  “None at all, Master. She appeared completely neutral when she reported it.”

  Professional to the end, huh?

  “Does she know that Brynhildr’s body has been dug up and stolen?”

  “Yes, she’s heard that too, but it doesn’t seem she knows anything beyond that.”

  If Lyndor had no part in Brynhildr’s remains going missing, then who could be responsible? And, more importantly, why? If all they wanted was the Reliquary, why hadn’t they just stripped it from the corpse and left the rest behind? That would have been the simplest course of action. Yet someone had gone to the trouble of removing the entire body.

  Was it a ruse? A way to obscure their true intentions? He knew the armor the woman was wearing was a Reliquary, yes, but most people didn’t know that. By hauling the whole thing away, the culprit made it harder to figure out what they were truly after.

  Or maybe... it was the corpse itself they sought. Perhaps some twisted necromantic purpose lay behind this theft. If that were the case, he might need to have a chat with Khenemhotep about the matter the next time he saw him.

  “Any other news from Lyndor?” Viktor asked.

  “Yvonne is still sending false reports back to her superiors, just as you instructed. There’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “So no new Lyndorian agents coming here?”

  “Not as far as she’s aware,” Orloth said. “Unless, of course, the higher-ups have grown suspicious of her and sent someone without her knowledge.”

  Well, it didn’t matter much anymore. The spies had only been a problem because they might have interfered with his plan to kill Dagnar. That man was dead now, so their presence was no longer a pressing concern.

  On the other hand, if they found out that Yvonne had betrayed them, things would take a swift and grim turn for her. Of course, he couldn’t allow that to happen. She was a valuable asset, after all. So he might need to come up with a contingency plan to keep her safe.

  Well, that part was for later. It was time to address the second topic. There was another reason he wanted to meet Orloth in person like this. If all he wanted was the information Yvonne brought, he could have just had Celeste give him the summary.

  Viktor materialized his stat screen, letting it hover in the air before him. Naturally, he was the only one who could see it; Orloth, despite standing right next to him, remained blissfully unaware of the text and numbers that drifted through his field of view.

  After that day, when Celeste had offered to give him her Essence Points so he could level up faster, he had spent quite a bit of time considering it, weighing the trade-offs. Should he allow himself to surge ahead while keeping her stuck at Level 13? Or should he refuse that shortcut entirely and earn his Arcane Points through other, slower means?

  It was not like rushing his own advancement held much benefit anyway. After all, his level was capped, and most of what he got in the next nine levels was just small upgrades. The only real milestone was Level 10, when he would gain the ability to craft a new Supreme Thauma, but without a lot of Sigils, he wouldn’t be able to make anything impressive anyway. So he figured he would just postpone it, as he had in his previous life.

  That was why he had settled on a compromise.

  A rotation.

  He would go to Level 3. Then Celeste to Level 14. Then him to Level 5. Then her again. That way, neither of them would stagnate. No one would get left behind.

  And with Celeste switched back from “a dungeon that didn’t kill” to “a dungeon that now killed again,” the Essence flow had returned to a satisfying rate ever since. One Iron-ranked and three Copper-ranked dead adventurers later, he had hit Level 3.

  That meant thirty Insight Tokens in his pocket. It was time to earn some Sigils so that he could start crafting Thauma.

  “Orloth, create an orb of water.”

  Viktor already had a good idea of what spells an Acolyte of the Deep was capable of, so there was no need to ask any questions. He could go straight to the point and request exactly what he needed.

  Orloth was taken aback, tendrils twitching in momentary confusion, by the sudden command that had absolutely nothing to do with the previous discussion. But he obeyed anyway, raising a webbed hand.

  As water began to pool in his palm, swirling into a hovering sphere, Viktor initiated his Insight Mode.