Stray

her, but as a result, when they got to the table, they could clearly see who was sitting there.
Oliver coughed heavily, and Nemo turned pale and almost walked back out, but Ann grabbed him by his lapel just in time and pressed him to the nearest chair.

Troy Fenrir raised his eyebrows.

“These are your new teammates?” he said, looking with interest at the gray parrot with a wooden expression that was sitting on Nemo’s shoulder.

“Yes.
I may have owed them a treasury in my previous life,” Ann said calmly, most likely holding back some true emotions for her reply.
She had changed into a new leather armor.
She sat down carelessly and poured herself a cupful of mead.

“This is… your friend?” Oliver asked cautiously, slowly covering the black badge pinned to his left chest with his right hand.

“I can’t talk about it.
We occasionally do business, but it’s a bad relationship.” Ann shrugged.
“Troy Fenrir, the leader of the Steel Wolf Mercenary.
I think you have already met,” she added insincerely.

Fenrir’s hawk-like eyes swept towards the two of them.
Oliver straightened his back subconsciously, while Nemo lowered his head and began to count the embroidery stitches on the edge of the tablecloth.

“They’re just two children.
Don’t scare them.” Ann jabbed the mercenary’s arm with her elbow, causing Fenrir to finally retract his gaze.
“Speak quickly if you have something to say.
The food will be coming soon and I’m so hungry that I can eat a bear.
I may not have time to talk with my mouth later.”

“How much do you know about Pandorater?” The mercenary turned his head sideways and stared straight into Ann’s amber eyes.
“The group of refugees were all frightened and they didn’t know anything when we ask them.
The wanted criminals ran away when they saw me but was full of bullshit when we caught them.
You shouldn’t know nothing about it, Savage.”

Nemo held his breath and counted the stitches more intently.

“I do know a little.” Ann didn’t have a trace of nervousness on her face.
“The old rules.
The Pact of Truth.
Exchange information for information.”

“What do you want to know?”

“About Adrian Cross,” the female warrior’s tone was steady.
“I need some information beyond rumors.”

“Deal.”

Having said that, Fenrir took out a blank piece of parchment paper, and the two of them stretched out their thumbs and without hesitation bit it, then drew a complex array on it.
After the array was completed, two thin lines of blood poked out from the heart of the formation and wrapped around the wrists of the two of them.

“Let’s get started,” Ann said indifferently.
“You go first.”

Nemo finally stopped focusing on counting the stitches.
He couldn’t help but raise his head and looked curiously at the floating blood in the air, as if they would break and disappear at any time.

“It’s the Pact of Truth,” he whispered excitedly to Oliver.
“This is the first time I have seen it.”

“First question, how did you know that it was Pandorater?”

“I have read about it in books,” Ann replied without hesitation.
“Its characteristics are obvious.”

“…There is not much information about superior demons in books.
Where on earth did you get it from…?”

“That has nothing to do with what you want to ask,” Ann responded calmly.
“Are you planning to use the Pact of Truth to spy on a woman’s personal privacy?”

Fenrir gritted his teeth.
There was nothing he could do.
The blood line was not broken, which meant Ann did not lie.

“Okay, fine.
Did you return after repelling the worm? Did you see anyone else approaching?”

“None of us did.
Didn’t it get ripped apart by Pandorater?” Ann raised an eyebrow.
“Could it be that something went wrong before that? Let me think… who seriously injured it? No, it seems that someone killed it.” She widened her beautiful eyes and stared at Fenrir’s eyes.

“I’m the one asking the questions.” The mercenary’s face darkened.

“Sorry, please continue.”

“What did Pandorater do after she appeared? …Be detailed.
Tell me everything until it disappeared.” Fenrir stood up from his seat and propped his hand on the table, swaying the blood line dangerously.

“It spread out and slaughtered everything; its usual practice.” The tone of the female warrior was colder this time.
“Then it suddenly gathered, as if it was bound by something, and it didn’t take long…” she made a gesture of spreading out, “before it disappeared with a bang.”

“Bound?”

“Yes.
Entangled by something black.
Who knows what it was… at least I’ve never seen it before.”

“Did anyone take the initiative to approach it?”

Oliver clenched his first, while Nemo tightened his hand that was clenching his robe under the table.

“I didn’t see anyone approaching it.” The female warrior picked up her glass of mead with her other free hand and took a few sips from it.
“Of course, I didn’t hear anyone say they’ll deal with it.
It was fighting with that black thing, so it might have encountered some natural enemies.”

“That’s a superior demon, not an ordinary monster.
They don’t encounter natural enemies so easily on the surface.
I haven’t heard of any Knights of Judgement passing by, unless there was also a demon warlock present…” The mercenary sat back in his chair.
He took his gaze away from Ann and directed them sharply at Nemo again, causing the back of Nemo’s neck to become cold.
“…Otherwise, nothing can stop it.”

“I said I don’t know.
When I came back, I didn’t find testers that were mixed with demon warlocks.
That was originally your problem, no? If you’re interested in that black thing, I can draw you a picture of it… but I wasn’t close to it, so I may miss some details.”

“…Good.” Fenrir sighed.
“What about this kid? What’s his identity?” Just when Nemo thought the inquiry was about to come to an end, the mercenary asked directly.

“Demon worshipper, as far as I know, that’s it,” Ann snorted, answering without hesitation.
“Look at him.
Even if you stand still, he’ll probably can’t stab you with a knife.
Do you think I would be stupid enough to bring someone like that to see you?”

Ann raised her head, with face full of confidence.
Fenrir squinted at the blood line on her wrist.
The thin red line had not disconnected.

“Give me the drawing in a while.
I have nothing else to ask for the time being.
Now it’s your turn, Savage.”

The smile on Ann’s face faded and she thought for a moment.

“Adrian Cross, the ‘Shining Morning Star’… I only know that he has indeed been stripped of the title of a Knight of Judgement.
Troy, tell me, is he really an apostate?”