Red was still taking the information in when he noticed some movement inside the house with his crimson sense. The demonic cultivator’s fluctuation changed, and the youth felt him approach a window. He looked up with his improved sight and there, on the second floor, he saw a stern-looking middle-aged man peer over. He wore lordly garbs, with a slicked back grizzled hair and a finely trimmed mustache. The man didn’t open his window, instead just staring at Red with an examining expression and a slight frown on his face.

In the same way the youth had noticed him from afar, this demonic cultivator seemed to have also picked up on his presence. An unspoken battle of wills went on as Red and this stranger tried to judge each other’s strength from afar, their gazes speaking far more than mere words could.

These were two predators meeting in the wild, and they both were ready to spring into action should the situation call for it.

The old merchant, still carrying a begging expression, sensed the strange pressure forming around him as he was caught in the cross-fire between two Lesser Ring Realm cultivators. He looked up and when he saw his brother’s figure in the window, his expression paled.

Emer looked between Red and the man with fright. “Please! You can’t afford to fight here… If you do, it’s going to be the end for all of us!”

The youth didn’t respond, but the merchant’s words hit his weak spot. If he fought against a demonic cultivator in the middle of the street, wouldn’t that catch the attention of the guard? At that point, even if he killed this stranger, which he wasn’t entirely sure he could, how would he be able to hide that there was something wrong with him?

Meanwhile, turning around and fleeing wasn’t a good option either. They knew his secret, so how could he rest easy just walking away?

‘Do I really need to enter and try to speak with this man?’

It was the only reasonable option, but the situation wouldn’t be optimal either way. He wanted complete anonymity in town, and now, regardless of what happened, it didn’t seem he would get that.

Emer somehow seemed to be able to guess at his worries. “Please, sir… You can keep your weapons. All my master wants is to talk.”

‘He wants to talk?’

The man’s unfriendly gaze seemed to speak otherwise, but at this point, Red was running out of options.

“Fine.” He nodded. “I’ll speak with him.”

Emer smiled in delight, looking up at his brother in the window. The middle-aged man said nothing, but he retreated from the window, moving further into the house. This seemed to be his silent agreement.

The merchant seemed relieved, waving Red over as he finished tying his horse and opened the front door. “Please, sir, come in.”

Red walked over with steady steps. Although he agreed to meeting with this man, he was getting ready for a fight as his muscles tensed all over. After all, he was entering someone else’s home, so who knew what traps might be waiting for him inside?

At the same time he was worrying over this, though, a certain idea came to his mind.

‘If he lowers his guard, then maybe…’

Before Red could deliberate much further, he stepped inside the house. An old maid was waiting by the entrance for him as Emer closed the door behind them. Her expression didn’t betray any kind of emotion as she bowed towards this stranger, extending her hand and offering him a towel.

Red stared at the cloth, making no movements to accept it.

Emer noticed this. “Ah, that is for your feet, sir.”

“Why?”

“Well, they are a bit…” The merchant looked down at the youth’s dirty bare feet, before glancing up at the impassive eyes behind the mask. “… Nevermind. Agatha, you can leave us.”

The maid nodded, and without speaking a word, excused herself.

“Please, follow me.” Emer pointed to a set of stairs at the end of the corridor. “I will take you to my brother’s office.”

Red followed the old man, taking in his surroundings.

It was the finest place the youth had ever been to. Not even the Baron’s castle could compare. A fine red carpet extended over the corridor, covering a floor of intricately weaved wooden tiles, with angelic paintings and bookcases standing by the walls alongside lamplights. Red could even see a hint of further fineries in other rooms the corridor led to, but that was not his focus right now.

Instead, he tried to spot any signs of a formation, or anything else that stood out of place. To his relief, he found nothing as he made his way upstairs, but he didn’t lower his guard either.

Emer led him through another corridor on the second floor, at the end of which there was a heavy wooden double-door. The merchant hesitated as he arrived in front of it, looking at Red’s figure waiting a few meters away.

Then, a few seconds later, he knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

A raspy voice came from inside the room.

Emer opened the heavy doors, revealing a large office to Red. Large bookcases and shelves lined up the wall to his right, while to his left, paintings, hunting trophies, and other decorations stood. Center-piece to those was a large halberd that shone as if it was made of silver, giving off a sense of nobility unbecoming this kind of weapon of war.

In the center of the room there was a dark-brown desk, upon which one could find heavy stacks of paper and books, as well as a white-stone lamp that illuminated the environment. In front of the desk there were two mahogany chairs with crimson-colored cushions for guests, while behind it stood a large leather bound throne, upon which a man sat, his silhouette highlighted by the light coming from the window to the streets at his back.

The middle-aged man had both of his elbows on his desk, crossing his fingers in front of his face as if to hide half of his face. He didn’t even spare a single glance at Emer, instead staring directly at Red with the same stern gaze.

Then he pointed at the chairs across from him. “Please, sit.”

The man didn’t seem to be even a bit bothered by the youth’s appearance.

Red, however, didn’t immediately enter the room. Instead, he looked around, searching for any signs of formations or other traps. He did this openly, but the man didn’t offer any comment, waiting for him to be finished.

Red, once again, found nothing out of the ordinary, but this instead made him be more on guard.

‘No safe-guards… At least none that I can see.’

At least his immediate safety wasn’t in danger, it seemed. Red walked into the room, but he didn’t sit on one the chair, instead keeping at least three meters of distance between him and his host.

The man snorted. “Hmph, do as you wish.” He looked at Emer. “You can leave now.”

“No.” Red cut him off. “He stays.”

“What…?” The merchant seemed confused.

His host frowned, clearly bothered by the youth’s interruption. “Fine. He stays. If he hears too much, I suppose I can just get rid of him.”

Emer shivered, looking over at Red with a pleading gaze. The youth ignored him, however.

“Has he told you my name?” The man asked.

“Cassemir.” Red said.

“Cassemir Heires. Since you know my name, it is only common courtesy to state your own.”

“Viran.”

“Just Viran?”

Red nodded.

The man stared at him with disdain. “Hmph, I suppose the savage get up isn’t just an act then.”

Cassemir picked up a glass filled with some kind of liquor on his table, sipping it with no regards for his guest. A few seconds later, he set the cup down and looked over at Red with renewed hostility.

“You look tense.”

“I am tense.” Red said.

“So the cold persona is all just a trick?”

The youth didn’t respond.

“Fine.” Cassemir narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, who do you worship?”

The question took Red by surprise, though none of this showed in his expression.

‘Is he a demon worshipper?’

Not all demonic cultivators worshipped demons, and many of them even actively despised these patrons. These people, however, were not in the majority, much more so after the fall of the demonic sects.

The youth was silent for a few moments, wondering what kind of reply to offer the man. He wasn’t aware of how non-believers were seen in the eyes of demonic worshippers, and neither did he know about how certain demonic beliefs got along with each other.

His silence, however, seemed to anger the man. “I don’t know why I asked. Someone as clueless as you can only be a non-believer or a worshipper of a savage fiend.”

Red frowned. “Who do you worship?”

Cassemir didn’t respond immediately, instead fishing something from his collar. He held up a purple-golden pendant up depicting a nine-pointed star, showing it to Red.

“Do you know what this is at least?” he asked.

Red nodded. “… The Infernal Emperor.”

An archdemon. The so-called ruler of the hells and progenitor of sin.

From personal experience, Red didn’t let his mind linger on the topic and diverted his gaze from the pendant.

“Why did you want to see me?” he asked.

Cassemir snorted. “Trust me, I did not want to see you. If it wasn’t for my useless brother, I would have never known such a young demonic cultivator wanted to enter this city and possibly ruin all the plans we have been so carefully building.”

Red frowned. “Ruin how?”

“The mere fact you don’t know is proof enough of the danger you unknowingly pose.” The man shook his head with undisguised disappointment. “He should have never allowed you into this city.”

Emer, who had been silent the entire time, stared at the man with surprise. “B-Brother, but you- Agh!”

The merchant doubled over in pain, falling to his knees.

Red immediately stood on guard, but he didn’t see Cassemir move or cast any spells. It was as if the old man was suddenly afflicted with an unseen malady.

The man’s gaze didn’t move from Red the entire time, ignoring the existence of his brother. “I will give you two options: swear yourself to our lord right here or leave the city.”

“… What if I want to do neither?”

“Then I’m afraid you leave me with no other option.”

Spiritual energy started to surge from Cassemir’s body as he emitted the full pressure of his cultivation. A mid-stage Lesser Ring Realm cultivation, no less.

It was then easy to understand why the man seemed so confident to receive Red in his house without any traps or formations.

“I must say, Red. A demonic cultivator stronger than you by a whole lesser realm sure does make for a good first challenge as a real cultivator!”

Aurelia’s laughter reached the youth’s ears.