Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

"Inspect the altar," the lantern-bearer's voice rang out, somewhat hoarse.

"His Excellency the bishop has requested that the ceremony venue be absolutely secure."

Judging from his voice, the man carrying the lantern was about forty years old. He hung the lantern on an iron hook on the wall.

The other two, a man and a woman, walked toward the altar and began to examine the grooves engraved with runes with practiced ease.

"The runes are fine."

The woman crouched down, her fingers tracing the stone surface. "But the blood trough needs to be cleaned again. If this ritual is still performed here, the residue from the last ritual might have an effect, and His Holiness the Bishop won't be satisfied."

"Then I'll go fetch water." Upon hearing this, the other man turned to leave.

"Wait," the man with the lantern suddenly spoke.

He walked to the pile of sacks in the corner, squatted down, and pinched the rope tying the sacks with his fingers. "Someone has moved these sacks."

The woman immediately stood up: "Are you sure?"

"certainly."

The air in the stone chamber instantly tensed up.

The three of them immediately drew their weapons.

The man with the lantern drew a short sword with dark red rust, the woman held two poisoned daggers, and the other man took a whip with iron spikes from his waist.

"Search!" the man with the lantern whispered. "Be careful, that person might not have gone far."

The three people spread out in a fan shape.

The man with the lantern picked it up again, and the dim yellow light slowly swept across every corner of the stone chamber.

Lance's scout mosquitoes circled the nearby roads and, after confirming that no one else was around, decided to stop for the time being and start with them.

He didn't show himself, but instead stretched out his finger and gently tapped the ground beneath the three people's feet.

[The Art of Being Greasy!]

A pale yellow magical light flashed and disappeared.

The stone slab beneath the lantern-bearer's feet was instantly covered with a layer of slippery grease.

He had just taken a step forward when his back foot couldn't keep up, and he lost his balance and fell forward.

Lance watched him from the side, thinking to himself:

"This guy is clearly a level 1 warrior, how come his balance is so terrible... He must have obtained his power through evil means; his foundation is too weak, far inferior to mine."

"Bang!"

The man with the lantern bumped into the lamp, extinguishing the flame.

The stone chamber was plunged into complete darkness.

"Enemy attack!" the woman screamed.

Lance and Sielsa are both half-elves and professionals, so their dark vision is quite good.

Lance, in particular, was only slightly blurry in the darkness.

He cast the spell again, and a ghastly green light shone from his fingertips.

[Magic Blast!]

The beam of light tore through the darkness, striking precisely the lantern-bearing man who was struggling to get up.

He groaned, a hole burst open in his chest, and he fell heavily back into the grease, whereupon he remained motionless.

"In the direction of the altar!" The other man was quite perceptive, directly pinpointing the location by sound, and lashed out at Lance with his iron whip.

At this moment, Cielsa moved.

Although not as good as Lance's, her dark vision still allows her to see outlines in complete darkness.

She darted out of the shadows, her scimitar drawing a silver arc, not aimed at the man, but at the whip he swung.

"Clang!"

Some harsh metallic clanging sounds rang out.

The whip was blocked by the blade, and Cielsa spun around, the blade sliding along the whip toward her opponent's wrist.

The man quickly released his grip and retreated to dodge the scimitar, but Cielsa reacted swiftly.

She kicked away the iron whip that had fallen to the ground, and with her other hand, she reached out, grabbed the other person's collar, pulled him down hard, and then thrust her knee into him.

"Ughhhh!"

The dull thud of the man's nose breaking was particularly clear in the stone chamber.

Then Sissa kicked him against the wall.

Lance followed up with a [Magic Blast], the beam piercing the opponent's forehead.

The man convulsed twice and collapsed to the ground.

[Defeat 1 Level 1 Human Warrior, gain 25 experience points!]

[Killed 1 Level 1 Human Warrior! Gained 25 Experience Points!]

Now only that woman is left.

She stood in the center of the stone chamber, gripping a dagger tightly in both hands. Although her combat skills were quite good among mortals, unfortunately, mortal bones are still mortal bones.

As a mortal, she became blind after the lights went out, unable to see anything.

Her voice trembled with fear as she heard the sounds of fighting escalate rapidly and then cease.

"Who...who are you?! Lackeys of the City Lord's Mansion? Or meddlesome adventurers?!"

Lance did not answer. He raised his right hand, palm up.

[Light Dance Technique!]

A blinding ball of light suddenly exploded three inches in front of the woman.

The sudden bright light made her instinctively close her eyes and let out a short scream.

Cielsa pounced like a cheetah. She kicked away the dagger in Ciels' right hand and then struck Ciels hard on the back of the neck with the hilt of the knife.

The woman collapsed softly to the ground.

The battle is over.

The entire process, from the lantern being extinguished to the three people falling to the ground, took less than fifteen seconds.

Lance reactivated the [Light] spell, filling the stone chamber with a soft glow.

He crouched down and examined the robes of the three gray-robed men.

The fabric was plain gray, but the inside of each cuff was embroidered with a small symbol in black thread—a twisted hand with a mouth full of sharp teeth spread out from the palm.

"Same as in the booklet," Lance whispered.

Cielsa had already searched the other two bodies: "Same as before, only this symbol. No identification, no purse... It seems they emptied all their personal belongings before they came."

Lance doesn't need to rush to leave this time.

He walked back to the altar and carefully stroked the runes with his fingers.

He paused when he touched a special pattern in the center.

This rune was more complex than the ones around it—three concentric circles with twisted lines interwoven like blood vessels, and a coin-sized indentation in the very center.

Lance took a copper coin out of his dimensional pocket and placed it in the indentation.

Nothing happened.

Lance frowned. "It seems we need a specific key, or a specific offering."

He recalled the phrase in the booklet: "Offering twelve special, pure young souls."

When Lance walked up to the woman, he slapped her three times across the face.

"Mmm~~"

The unconscious woman let out a painful groan, her eyelids twitching slightly.

Lance quickly crouched down beside her.

The woman slowly opened her eyes, her focus gradually shifting to Lance's face, her pupils suddenly contracting.

"You...are you from the City Lord's Mansion, or from another family?" she asked in a fearful voice.

"Your eyes...you are half-elves?"

Lance frowned: "Why are you asking me about me, a prisoner like you?"

"Clap clap clap clap clap clap!"

Lance calmly slapped her a few more times, looking at her.

"Now, I'll ask, and you'll answer."

How many members of the "Thirsty Hands" are there in Rield? Who is the bishop? Besides here, what other strongholds do they have?

"Ha, if I tell you, do you think you'll let me go?" The woman said in a trembling voice, biting her lower lip and turning her face away, looking unwilling to cooperate.

Lance sighed.

"There is no point in putting up a stubborn resistance."