A single breath incinerated the Succubus's corpse. The goblin, the Paladin, and Anthony dug a deep pit to bury the demon's ashes. Before leaving, the Paladin cast Shield once more, ensuring the vile creature—responsible for so much suffering and strife—would never rise from its ashes.
Better safe than sorry. Always slash it one more time.
As they prepared to depart, the Paladin leaned close to Anthony and whispered, "Master, my instincts warned me yesterday. I sensed evil among our teammates. I never expected a Demon to be hiding among us. But even now, with the Succubus dead, the presence of evil lingers. Should we investigate further?"
Anthony stared at the righteous young man, exasperated. "Enough. Everyone has their secrets."
"But how can we tolerate evil in our midst—" The Paladin pressed, unwilling to let it go.
Anthony had had enough. If this fool remained so rigid, sooner or later, a Shield would smash into his skull.
Killing the Succubus had already cost him 1,000 Divine Favor, plunging him into debt. He couldn't afford to slaughter another teammate and double that deficit.
To keep this nuisance from causing more trouble before they reached their destination, Anthony decided to reason with him. If that failed… well, he'd find a way to dispose of him. Better that than being dragged down by his idiocy.
"As I understand it, our destination is Menzoberranzan—a city ruled by the Drow, those dark elves who worship the Spider Queen and revel in every depravity imaginable. So tell me, my righteous Paladin, do you plan to single-handedly purge that den of evil?"
The Paladin froze. He hadn't expected Master Anthony to dismiss the eradication of evil so casually. Stunned, he stood there, lost for words.
Seizing the moment, Anthony pressed harder, aiming to shatter the young man's naive worldview—just so he'd stop bothering him.
"Listen. I don't care about your God of Justice. I've lived lifetimes longer than you. I've dealt with more fiends than you've ever laid eyes on. And 'evil'? Most of the time, it's just a method."
"A… method?" The Paladin frowned. This contradicted everything he'd learned in the church. Just as he opened his mouth to argue, Anthony cut him off.
"Are the decadent nobles evil? The slavers? The merchants who exploit craftsmen for profit? Yet they thrive in every city across Toril. Have you ever heard of a high-tier Paladin stringing them all up?"
The Paladin's jaw slackened. He remembered his mentor's warning—never challenge the powerful. When he'd asked why, the old man had only sighed.
Anthony wasn't done. If he could corrupt this zealot, it'd be a fine joke. "I killed that Succubus because she tried to enslave me—not for some grand crusade against evil. If slaughtering fiends makes you feel righteous, have you considered the danger you're putting the rest of us in? Is it truly 'justice' to sacrifice your teammates for your own pride?"
For a moment, Tegal stood frozen. Then, resolve hardened his face again—but before he could speak, Anthony slammed a hand on his shoulder, driving him to his knees.
Confused, Tegal looked up—only to see Anthony already walking away, his voice drifting back.
"With your pitiful strength, you can barely protect yourself, let alone purge evil. Even children's tales aren't that naive. If you can't stomach traveling with 'evil,' then stay behind tomorrow. Or take another path to Menzoberranzan. I won't tolerate a walking powder keg in my team."
Watching his master leave, Tegal's chest tightened.
Back in the church, his fellow trainees had all been like him—zealous, unyielding. He'd never questioned their ways.
But Anthony's words struck deep. He had acted recklessly, endangering others. That wasn't justice.
After a long silence, Tegal rose, his gaze firm. He would reflect on this.
The next morning, aside from Anthony (who hadn't slept), the Paladin was the first to wake.
At 3:55 AM, his internal clock roused him. Swift and silent, he packed his gear and emerged from his tent precisely at 4:00.
After a stiff greeting to Anthony, he retreated to a corner, drew a crude Copper Emblem from his pouch, and knelt in prayer before the symbol of Tyr.
This was how priests and paladins received their divine spells.
Thirty minutes later, his prayer complete, Tegal showed no fatigue—only renewed vigor. Clearly, this was routine.
Next came sword practice. From his swings and rests, Anthony gauged his Strength and Constitution at around 16—impressive for a human.
"Rest now. You won't get another chance for over ten hours," Anthony muttered.
"Thank you for your concern, Master." Tegal obeyed without argument.
At least he wasn't stupid. Intelligence 11 or 12, perhaps?
By 6:00 AM, everyone except the Little Witch had risen, gathering around the fire to eat.
When Zad and Dagger learned the bard had been a Succubus, they were stunned—but accepted it quickly. With the Paladin as witness, doubt was pointless.
Their reactions, however, differed.
Dagger sat by the bonfire and said nothing. It was obvious that he had a rather cold personality and didn't care at all about the death of a temporary companion.
Zad, though? His response was… colorful.
"By the gods, a Succubus! No wonder she was so damn pretty—curves in all the right places, enough to make a man's blood boil. Ah, Master, what a waste! You should've let us have some fun before killing her. I've never bedded a Succubus—heard it's like having your soul sucked out through your—"
"Hmm…?" Tegal shot the noble fat man a sidelong glance. After resting, he felt stronger than before, and his instincts screamed that the second evil creature hiding in their team was undoubtedly this guy.
Nobles truly were disgusting.
Noticing the paladin's disdainful look, Zad quickly laughed it off. "Hah, just a joke to lighten the mood! Don't take it seriously…"
With that, he focused on his bread, not daring to raise his head again.
Back in Deepwater, he could've brushed off this barely-initiated paladin—their status difference was like a chasm, and they'd never even cross paths normally.
But here, without his lackeys and surrounded by strangers, Zad felt uneasy.
Even though he was a level higher than Tegal.
Yoda, sensing the tension, lightened the mood. "Hah! Then you'd best be careful. A succubus' kiss alone can drain your life force. If you went all the way, you'd lose weight real fast."
That got everyone laughing.
"Master Yoda, your jokes are way funnier than Zad's," Dagger teased.
Zad rolled his eyes and kept quiet.
After the meal, as everyone lounged to digest, the little witch finally sauntered over to the bonfire to eat.
She shot Anthony an irritated glare, leaving the others baffled.
The girl had guts. But spellcasters were known for their quirks, so no one dared ask.
Anthony kept a straight face, pretending not to notice.
Did last night's incident get exposed?
Unlikely. And it was consensual anyway… Ugh, women's minds are impossible. Best to act like nothing happened.
Lolo viciously gnawed on her bread and sausage, convinced that the wretched archmage had performed some bizarre magical experiment on her.
Why else would she have… last night?
She hadn't done that since she was five! And this wasn't her home, where she could just change clothes freely. She'd had to hide in her tent this morning, casting multiple cleaning spells to dry her clothes. So embarrassing!
This is all that damned archmage's fault! She bit into the bread as if it were Anthony's flesh, venting her fury.
In a way, she wasn't wrong.
After finishing her meal, the qi mage learned the bard had been a succubus in disguise and shuddered.
Succubi were ruthless—indiscriminate seducers, equally dangerous to men and women. A single passionate kiss could be lethal.
Guess not returning to the tent last night saved me.
A high-tier succubus' charisma was irresistible to anyone. Resisting it would take a will of steel.
Swallowing the last bite of bread, she glanced worriedly at Master Anthony, scanning him discreetly. Only when she confirmed he looked unchanged did she relax.
He hadn't lost weight, and his spirit seemed as vigorous as yesterday.
Clearly, the succubus had failed. If she'd succeeded, he'd be weakened.
Hmph. At least he's wary of wicked women.
For some reason, the little witch felt smug, her little fangs peeking out.
Her mood improved considerably.
"Everyone finished? Let's move on."