Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 434: Demons
Hazel finally processed the aftermath of that last meeting.

The shaman Gasherov's head was cut off by Gregory's sickle. After Gasherov's actual death, the ascetic Marug, who fought alongside him, showed even more terrible strength, forcing the others to seek a truce and promise not to regard him as an enemy anymore.

Gasherov's body was eventually taken away by the Holy Grail Order, and all of his followers were killed.

Then everything returned to normal.

Neither Hazel nor anyone else here was worried that what they were involved in would be strongly criticized - not by Gasherov, but by the attention of the king, ministers, and parliamentarians.

Even if they went too far here, the Queen couldn't really regard them as rebels.

In this era, if you want to transmit information as quickly as possible, you can only rely on a machine called a cantilever signal machine. Different symbols placed on the cantilever can accurately indicate certain information, and only trained people can interpret it.

After observing the information expressed by the cantilever of a signal machine through a telescope, the maintenance personnel of another signal machine also operated his own machine to replicate the information, and the signal machine farther away replicated it again. In this way, one person spread the message to ten people, ten people spread the message to a hundred people, and finally the message was sent across dozens or hundreds of kilometers to the political center of the kingdom.

It only takes the queen one day to get news from three hundred miles away in the palace of Yaxin.

However, maintaining this cantilever signal network is expensive. Just one signal requires at least three people to operate and maintain it. Long-term operation is a huge burden on the kingdom's finances.

There are now only two lines in operation within the kingdom, one to the west and one to the north.

Wei Aodi is in the south.

As long as Nightingale who came to track her down was dealt with, even if the queen wanted to know the news about Wei Aodi, it would take at least a week. And it would take even longer to mobilize the army to quell the rebellion. Once the war started, military expenses would pour into this bottomless pit like water.

Therefore, when the conditions are not excessive, the power center will choose to compromise.

Power is the art of compromise.

Ordinary people may think that the royal family is weak, but the wise can benefit from the rules and those in power gain stability, and these benefits are worth a thousand words.

As the saying goes, "Be the head, not the hands and feet." Hazel believed that even if she was not yet the head, she was not far from it.

After he dealt with the real-world conflict at the Busby Mansion, the Busbys were relieved.

Swish, Cuomo, Angus, James. Even the oldest members trusted him greatly because he was recruited by Jeremy Busby himself. This trust almost made him feel guilty, but he always remembered to put the overall situation first.

Using Jeremy's important business as an excuse, he left the mansion and when he reached the carriage, he stopped and kept a certain distance from it.

The carriage was still the same one he had come in, but the coachman leaning against the carriage was replaced by a stranger he had never seen before. His clothes remained the same, and he was still wearing the original coachman's soft felt hat and black vest.

The stranger heard the footsteps and looked up with a smile. "Fale, what did they ask you to do this time? I hope their orders did not make you uncomfortable."

Hazel breathed a sigh of relief. He walked over to the other person and whispered back, "Sir, everything is relatively easy. It's just that there was an accident at Gregory's place. Several people died, and they asked me to deal with the aftermath. The remaining Nightingale went to Warehouse 96. Although he didn't die, I can guarantee that he won't be able to cause us any more trouble for a while. As for the rest, I don't have much to say. It seems like you've encountered something happy."

The coachman's smile was as lush as summer weeds.

"Fale, people like us won't let others see if we're unhappy. But now I'm really happy. Some of the things that have been bothering me have been confirmed, and they will no longer pose a threat to me."

"That's very congratulatory, sir," Hazel complimented.

"To know that everything is going well for you here, I am now completely relieved."

"Are you relieved now?"

"not worried."

The coachman waved and jumped into the driver's seat. Hazel opened the side door of the carriage and got in. "Those people have already negotiated with us, and the silver has arrived. By the end of next month, we will have tens of thousands of silver bullets to deal with the stubborn problems in Sasha City. After dealing with all the opposition forces around Wei Aodi, we will restart the era of the nobility here."

The wheels started to turn, and amid the sound of horse hooves, a sigh came from the driver's seat above my head.

"I've said it many times, Hazel, don't take this title too seriously. And don't underestimate our opponents. If we only take the paths we can see, we will end up with nowhere to go."

Hazel, who was sitting in the carriage, was stunned: "I don't quite understand what you mean, but please feel free to teach me again."

"You should re-evaluate your position now. Think about it, if a boat is about to capsize, how can the people on it escape?"

"Is the boat about to capsize?!" Hazel thought again and remained firm in his opinion: "No, sir, I don't feel anything."

The coachman's voice came from overhead: "Indeed, not yet. It is only the small boats that will capsize. But for you, the time to choose has come. I advise you to prepare in time, so that those who hate you will not have the opportunity to take advantage of you."

"Are you leaving too?" "It's not time for me yet. I have to show myself before Her Majesty the Queen. What if Basby wins? It would be hard for me to give up everything so soon."

Hazel lowered her head, thinking.

96pm, Warehouse , West District.

Clayton and Julius stood across the street, observing the main entrance. They pretended to be lost, standing under the streetlights and pointing at a map. There were many guards in front of the tall warehouse with bright lights, lots and lots of them.
There are at least thirty guards here, and a mad wizard of the Key Corps is known to be present.

Julius just walked around here and found no signs of other spellcasters, at least not outdoors.

"I heard that there aren't usually so many people here." Clayton looked at the map and said, "It seems that the Nightingale scared them, so they added more protection later."

In the free time before nightfall, they shared their intelligence and found that nothing was optimistic.

"So can you solve it?" Julius looked up quickly, then lowered his head to take the map and pretended to do something. Although this was a plan he initiated, he couldn't help but retreat when he saw so many guards.

They may have been equipped with silver bullets, which would have been about as threatening to the darkin as the heavy muskets.

Even if a monster has strong vitality and has not been hit in a vital part, continuous shooting will greatly reduce its mobility, making it more difficult to chase prey or escape from the gun.

The union's helpers are nearby, but if they can't take out the guards, all their plans will be in vain.

"Wait a minute," said Clayton.

"What other plans do you have?"

"I suggest you find a place to hide, and apply some pungent ointment on yourself. I know you always carry this stuff with you."

Julius didn't understand why, but he did it anyway. After applying the ointment, he curiously asked Clayton, "What's the point of doing this?"

"Before I explain this, I have to apologize to you," Clayton said.

Julius raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps you've noticed that I took the extra time to take a shower at a roadside inn."

"Cleaning the body can wash away certain bad luck. What's the problem with that?" The wizard didn't understand what he cared about.

"Perhaps I didn't mention it before, but the werewolves from the Konglione family are probably tracking me. I smelled their scent when we were on our way to visit the three guilds. There were three of them, and their route was almost intertwined with ours. It was just because I did a lot of work to cover up my tracks before, so they didn't track me down right away."

After hearing Clayton's explanation, Julius' face began to turn green.

Clayton raised his head and looked at the turbid sky. The silver moon was still bright in the diffuse black smoke. "Now that I have washed away the smell that was originally used to cover up, they should be here soon. You have helped me scout the number of spellcasters here. Now it's time to go."

"You're really looking for death!" Julius said gritting his teeth.

"But this is a great opportunity." Clayton turned around and said, "You reported Ginger and Edgar missing to Kong Lione, but they didn't know you were still in Sasha City, nor did they know you were related to these two hired workers. To them, you were just a passenger they met by chance. They wouldn't remember your smell at all, and I was the instigator of everything, and I might have colluded with the Sacred Heart Fraternity, so now my chances of survival are higher than originally expected."

Julius immediately understood his intention.

Clayton is already a great enemy in Kong Lione's mind. If they can cleverly use the guard force of Warehouse 96, they can deal a heavy blow to both parties of hatred.

But
"What if they're not going to kill you here?" he asked.

"If they wait until you leave here before they take action, then you will be dead, right?"

Clayton shook his head. "They have three werewolves, and it's night time now. If they are still unwilling to take action, then they will never be able to kill me in the future."

After knowing the truth, Julius no longer planned to stay here: "It's up to you. If you need to write a suicide note, I can help you write it down."

"I never leave a suicide note," Clayton said.

The wizard hurried away, leaving the lieutenant waiting.

About twenty minutes later, five tall figures appeared at the end of the street.

Clayton's eyes swept over them one by one, stared at them from a distance for a few seconds, and then walked towards Warehouse 96 in a dignified manner.

(End of this chapter)