Chapter 319: The Players Attack! (1/2)

Strom Mickey was a city official in Crookes.

As one who served under old Meredith, he was the noble whom everyone formerly believed had the best chance of becoming mayor-with the condition of the imperial family not interfering.

The reason ‘formerly’ was used there was because another faction led by Magistrate Lloyd had swiftly risen to power, following the leak of old Meredith’s illness by the acolyte of the Temple of Life.

And at the moment, Lloyd’s faction had overwhelmed Strom, whereas Lloyd had also taken his place as the next best candidate for Mayor. That left Strom a little flustered.

As Meredith’s deputy, he had often clashed with Lloyd who was a second-in-command, and the rift between them was publicly known. In fact, with old Meredith’s silent approval, they would mutually attempt to sabotage and slow each other down.

While there had yet to be direct conflict, Strom had indirectly caused the death of Lloyd’s only son, which prevented the rift between them from ever healing

In fact, it would be no exaggeration to say that all of Crookes’ nobles were allowed to side with Lloyd except for Strom.

And should Lloyd claim the mayoral seat, Strom would definitely be toyed to death.

Hence, Strom panicked even more as he watched his old rivals all began to kick him when he’s down, having tolerated him for his position and the old mayor.

And to save himself, he did not hesitate to rely on a cabal that had offered him an olive branch.

Initially, Strom had assumed that it was an evil god cult, only to find out that it wasn’t when he eventually joined. The group itself did not impose any prohibitions on faith, and they were merely passionate about studying taboos instead of religious factions.

Gaining power in today’s world did not interest them at all, and Strom even had the feeling that if authority didn’t provide them with better conditions for their research, they wouldn’t bother seizing power. Naturally, that has nothing to do with Strom at all. He was fine with being a hired gun or even a puppet for a cabal as long as he could reclaim his place on top of Crookes and not be purged by his political opponents.

And today, he impatiently slipped into his dungeon once he returned from the mayoral residence. The crest he kept concealed beneath his robes was heating up-the mysterious cabal were calling for him.

The dungeon itself was piled full of letters not for anyone else’s eyes and treasures Strom hoarded, the most conspicuous being a massive standing mirror. After he put the crest on a socket on a frame, the eye sculpted on the mirror frame promptly opened as if it was alive and stared straight at Strom.

Even though he had used the enchantment many times, Strom still shivered when the eye above the frame stared at him.

Meanwhile, ripples stirred over the surface of the mirror, and Strom’s reflection in it vanished after a moment. In its place was a robed man who had pulled his hood over his head, half of his face out of sight.

“What is thy bidding, my lord?” Strom asked meekly, even as he tried his best to repress the forbidding feeling inside while rubbing his hands like a fly.

“A group of people has come inside Crookes recently. You best pay attention.” The man in the mirror said flatly.

“Uh…”

In Strorm’s head, there were many different reasons why the man had called for him, but the man’s words now left him puzzled.

Was that it?

But considering that the mysterious black-robed men were not the type to suddenly attack for no reason, Strom knew that there was more to the matter than meets the eye.

“Are there problems with that group of people?” He asked carefully.

“They are believers of a certain church investigating the swampmen.” The man’s answer left Strom’s heart sinking. That was true. He had obtained the swampmen from the cabal and smuggled them into Crookes.

His objective was simple, too: under his control, the swampmen would take the place of the other nobles with no one knowing, therein covertly strengthening his faction-naturally, it would be nice if they could directly get rid of Lloyd too.

Still, most of those nobles had one or two formidable bodyguards with them.

And in this world, most bodyguards were hired from churches, and any under a noble’s employment would most certainly be a supernatural individual, or one just a step away from reaching it.

The swampmen’s ability was utterly lacking in comparison to those believers and their considerable strength in combat.

True, the swampmen could completely imitate another person, but that was merely in appearance and memory. Even so, their living essence had changed utterly, and since they were incapable of any faith, they couldn’t fool the gods to gain any Divine Grace or protection.