Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

Chapter 57: ⁵⁷The Underworld and the Traitor

​The winter wind swept across the quiet side gate of Zenithar Academy.

A pitch-black horse carriage bearing no noble crest waited in silence. A covert operational vehicle provided by Isolde. On the driver’s seat sat an old coachman wrapped in a thick blanket, completely mute.

Kaelia von Ashford stepped gracefully into the carriage. Her red-and-gold uniform was now completely covered by a thick, dark cloak.

Before long, Valera Voss followed. Disregarding all noble etiquette, the female knight immediately sprawled her muscular body across the opposite bench. Her Zweihander was leaned carelessly in the corner of the carriage.

"How long is the ride?" Valera asked, folding her arms behind her head. Her exotic dark skin stood out in stark contrast against the red velvet seat.

Kaelia shot her a sharp look from beneath her hood. "About two hours. Could be longer if the snow at the border thickens."

"Good. Wake me up when we get there," Valera replied nonchalantly, closing her eyes instantly.

Kaelia could only let out a frustrated scoff at the executioner’s barbaric behavior. She turned her gaze out the window.

The journey north offered a harsh transition of nature. The pine forest slowly gave way to rocky hills, then descended into endless frozen fields. The dirt path turned into rough macadam designed to hold the weight of trade carriages.

Two hours passed to the sound of creaking carriage wheels. In the distance, the silhouette of jagged stone walls split the gray horizon.

They arrived at Stadtier.

This city lacked the elegant marble towers of Zenithar, but its structures were massive and dense. As the economic heart of the north, Stadtier never slept. Hundreds of carriages and merchants bustled back and forth. Thick smoke from refineries stained the sky.

Their black carriage slowed down, joining the queue at the gate. Kaelia rolled down the window glass slightly.

The pungent scent of spices, rusted iron, worker sweat, and coal pollution immediately invaded her nostrils. The Fire Queen’s nose wrinkled in undisguised disgust.

"Tch, so crowded," Kaelia murmured, pulling her hood tighter. "I hate crowded places."

Valera cracked one eye open, smirking lazily. "Port cities are always noisy. Relax, Princess. We aren’t here to shop for dresses."

The skilled coachman maneuvered past the gate guards using high-tier forged documents crafted by Isolde. The carriage finally stopped in a small square in the central district. The coachman nodded, signaling he would wait at the extraction point.

Kaelia dismounted first, followed by Valera, who leaped down lightly while stretching her stiff shoulders.

"Follow me, Madam President," Valera warned. Her eyes turned as sharp as a predator’s. "Whatever happens, don’t get lost."

They left the clean square behind. The further north they walked, the scenery shifted drastically.

They had officially entered the Underworld—the Subterranean City that was never printed on any imperial map.

The wide streets turned into narrow, foul-smelling alleys. Grand stone houses gave way to multi-story wooden shacks on the verge of collapsing, connected by rusted iron stairs. Dirty faces observed from the shadows. Thugs played with daggers, while black-market merchants whispered illicit goods.

Despite being covered by a hood, Kaelia’s fiery red hair and the scent of expensive perfume clearly drew attention. Leering eyes scanned her from head to toe.

"Hey, Pretty Red," whistled a thug with a root tattoo on his neck, blocking Kaelia’s path. "Lost from the palace, huh? Want me to show you a warm place?"

Kaelia was just about to raise her hand to burn the man’s face off, but Valera moved first.

The knight didn’t draw her sword. She simply stared at the thug. Her pair of golden eyes radiated a killing intent so thick and brutal, promising a painful death in seconds.

The thug instantly turned deathly pale. He swallowed hard, raised his hands, and ran away full speed through the narrow alley.

"This place is truly repulsive," Kaelia hissed, sweeping a puddle of mud off her boots.

Valera scoffed softly, continuing her walk. "This is my true home, Princess. Long before the Rosenberg family picked me up."

Kaelia fell silent. She only just realized how different their origins were, even though both of them were now kneeling before the exact same Devil.

Their steps halted in front of a rickety wooden inn. Its sign was nearly falling off, reading: The Rat’s Nest.

Valera kicked the wooden door open. The stench of cheap liquor, vomit, and cigarette smoke assaulted their senses. Several rough-looking men at a round table instantly went quiet upon seeing their arrival.

Ignoring those lethal stares, Valera walked straight to the darkest corner.

There, an old man with a tangled beard sat alone. One of his eyes was blind from a slash, but the other stared sharply like a vulture’s. Gerik. A former assassin turned information broker.

Valera pulled out a chair. Kaelia stood behind her with crossed arms.

Gerik sipped his liquor, smirking. "Valera Voss... The Northern Dog. I thought you were skinned alive by the nobles."

"I almost died, Gerik," Valera answered flatly. "But unfortunately, I’m still breathing. I need information."

Gerik cackled hoarsely, showing off his yellow teeth. "Nothing is free in the Underworld, Northern Dog."

Without blinking, Valera tossed a heavy pouch of silver coins onto the table. Gerik caught it, weighed it for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction.

"I’m looking for a bastard named Rolf Haiteler," Valera fired directly.

Gerik scratched his beard. "Ah... that spoiled Count’s kid. I heard a few things. But be careful, Valera. Rolf is protected by specialists in dirty noble business."

"Stop wasting time," Kaelia urged coldly from beneath her hood.

Gerik looked Kaelia up and down. "Wow... your new girlfriend, Valera? Quite good taste."

Valera didn’t smile. Her hand squeezed the wooden table until a cracking sound echoed. "Gerik. Focus."

Sensing the threat, Gerik raised one hand. "Alright. The organization’s name is Serpent’s Tongue. Specialists in inter-faction sabotage. They’re cunning and possess a lot of poison."

"Where is he now?"

Gerik tore a dirty piece of parchment, writing down an address quickly. "A safe house on the edge of town. Old warehouse district. Guarded by three or four operational troops in gray uniforms. Not ordinary thugs."

Valera pocketed the paper.

"One extra piece of info for free," Gerik added as they got up to leave. "Rolf is just a middleman pawn. There’s a far more dangerous mastermind holding the leash on his neck."

The night air struck them immediately. The narrow alleys welcomed them back, with the stench of liquor, filth, and damp wood smoke.

Valera and Kaelia walked through the dead outskirts district. Street lanterns were spaced far apart, casting minimal light.

They arrived at the old warehouse area. Giant abandoned wooden buildings stood like tombstones in the middle of the storm. Among the rows of vacant warehouses stood a two-story house. Dim lantern light radiated from an upper window.

They crouched behind a pile of wooden crates.

"That old bastard was accurate," Valera whispered, scanning the darkness. "Three guards. Two in front, one patrolling the back. Wearing thick gray uniforms."

Kaelia peeked over Valera’s shoulder, analyzing their posture. "Not street thugs. Trained."

"Simple plan," Valera whispered, unsheathing her Zweihander soundlessly. "I go through the front, take out two. You scale the wall, enter through the upper window. Leave one alive for questioning."

Kaelia smirked faintly. Heat gathered in her palm. "Understood."

Valera stepped out of hiding. She didn’t sneak around. The knight strolled casually, dragging her giant sword behind her.

Seeing the threat coming out in the open, the two front guards drew their swords instantly. "Halt! Who goes there?!" shouted one of them.

Valera didn’t bother answering.

The first guard lunged forward, aiming for her neck. Valera merely ducked slightly, then countered with a monster-powered uppercut straight to the man’s jaw.

CRACK! Bones shattered. The first guard collapsed unconscious.

Seeing his comrade drop in a second, the second guard panicked and thrust from the side. Valera caught his wrist, twisted it until a snapping sound rang out, then slammed him onto the frozen ground.

Two seconds. Two elite guards downed without a chance to scream.

Meanwhile, Kaelia scaled the frozen drainage pipe with unexpected agility. She leaped inside through the second-floor window without a sound.

In the dim room, the third guard watching the stairs turned around in shock. His mouth opened to scream.

However, before his vocal cords could vibrate, Kaelia’s palm rose.

A blood-red fireball—Crimson Sin Fire—launched at lightning speed. Slamming into the guard’s chest. The attack didn’t burn him to ashes, but delivered a magical shock instead. The man lay passed out with a smoking chest.

Kaelia descended to the first floor. Valera had just kicked the front door open, dragging the two unconscious bodies inside.

"Clear upstairs?" Valera asked.

"Clear."

They swept the entire house. In the damp basement, the target was finally found.

Rolf Haiteler, the gaunt noble youth, huddled in fear behind a pile of wine crates.

Seeing Valera and Kaelia, Rolf’s face turned deathly pale. He made a desperate leap, attempting to break through and flee toward the stairs.

Kaelia let out a lazy sigh. She snapped her fingers.

A wall of blood-red fire exploded from the floor, blocking the stair access. Its extreme heat nearly singed Rolf’s eyebrows, forcing him to fall back trembling.

"Stay where you are, Rolf," Kaelia commanded, heavy with authority.

Valera stepped forward. Her hand grabbed Rolf’s luxurious collar, hoisting the youth’s body into the air like a rabbit.

"Mercy! I beg for mercy!!" Rolf shrieked hysterically, tears streaming down. "I was only ordered to do it! I swear to God, I didn’t know that potion would leave Kurt dying! I only wanted him to win!"

"Who ordered you, bastard?" Valera growled. Her face was so close Rolf could smell the metallic scent off her armor.

"I-I don’t know his name! Truly!" Rolf whimpered. "He’s from Serpent’s Tongue! They provided the potion. I was just the middleman!"

Kaelia approached. Her eyes glinted, reflecting the firelight behind her. "Where is that person right now?"

"H-He’s coming tonight! To deliver my payment!" Rolf confessed quickly. "He promised a bag of pure gold if my task succeeded!"

"What time?" Valera tightened her grip on his collar until he choked.

"P-Past midnight!"

Having acquired the needed info, Valera released her grip. Rolf dropped with a thud onto the floor. The knight turned to Kaelia.

"We wait for that bastard," she smirked.

The trap preparation was executed swiftly. The guards’ bodies were dragged into the back room. The lights were extinguished, leaving a single dim lantern on the center table.

Rolf was tied tightly to a wooden chair, his mouth gagged with a dirty cloth.

Valera hid in the shadow behind the front door. Kaelia stood in the darkness of the stairs, ready to rain down fire.

One hour. Two hours. Outside, the blizzard grew thicker.

Creak.

The sound of footsteps on snow echoed from outside. The doorknob turned.

A tall man in a thick black cloak stepped inside. As he shook the snow off his cloak, the lantern illuminated his wrist. A coiled snake tattoo resided there.

"Rolf," the man called arrogantly. "I brought your gold coins."

His steps halted upon seeing Rolf tied up helplessly with eyes wide in terror.

Before the Snake could draw his dagger, Valera flashed out from behind the door.

THWACK!

The blunt end of her sword scabbard struck the target’s back of the head cleanly. The tall man slumped to the floor.

Before he could regain consciousness, Kaelia leaped down. Blood-red fireballs swirled wildly in her palms, radiating terrifying heat right in front of the man’s face.

"Don’t move too much, Little Snake," Kaelia threatened, as cold as ice.

Valera stomped her steel boot heavily onto the man’s chest, pinning him down. "So you’re the courier for Serpent’s Tongue?"

The man coughed up blood. "I-I’m just a low-tier courier...!"

Without a shred of mercy, Valera knelt. With one brutal movement, she twisted the man’s right hand and snapped his index finger.

CRACK!

"ARRRGGGHH!!" The man shrieked shrilly, his body thrashing in pain.

"I will break your remaining nine fingers, one by one, every ten seconds you stay quiet," Valera threatened emotionlessly. "Where is your superior?"

Realizing he was dealing with a monster, the Snake immediately "sang".

"Warehouse! Warehouse Number 7!! Near Stadtier’s old harbor! The boss is there! He’s called The Serpent!"

Kaelia leaned down, staring intently into those terrified eyes. "What was your main motif in targeting the Rosenberg heir with that potion?!"

"I-I don’t know! I swear! I’m just a courier! The Serpent knows all the client’s plans!"

Valera looked at Kaelia. Kaelia nodded slowly. "Enough. He’s no longer useful."

THUD! Valera struck the man’s nape, knocking him out cold, tied his hands and feet, and kicked his body onto the pile with Rolf in the corner of the room.

Leaving the prisoners frozen awaiting pickup, the two bloodhounds stepped out of the safe house.

Night in the Underworld grew deeper. The storm raged.

"Warehouse Number Seven. Old harbor," Kaelia murmured, pulling her cloak tight.

"We head there now," Valera replied, pushing back her wind-blown hair. "Before their main hideout realizes these two pawns went off the radar."

A fifteen-minute walk through the storm led them to a row of giant buildings towering over the abandoned dock. The freezing cold of the northern sea pricked their bones. Most of the warehouses were pitch black like a graveyard.

However, right at the end of the dock, Warehouse Number 7 radiated a dim lantern light from the gaps in its wooden walls.

Valera unsheathed her Zweihander. A savage smirk bloomed. "He’s inside. The Serpent."

Beside her, Kaelia ignited a trail of Crimson Sin Fire in her palm. The reflection of the red flame illuminated the Fire Queen’s beautiful face, now completely dominated by killing intent.

"Let’s finish this hunt," Kaelia said coldly.

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