The maid squad is too strong, what use is there for me, the Demon King?

Lockston Kingsol, the president of the Golden Weasel Merchant Guild, sat behind a large desk carved from dark red wood, flipping through stacks of reports made of parchment.

His eyes were deep, revealing an aura of authority that commanded respect without anger.

His face was serious and calm, exuding the composure that a wealthy person, rather than a nouveau riche, should possess.

As the sound of pages turning faded, the speed of page turning noticeably increased, and his brows furrowed slightly.

These details reveal that he is not in a good mood, clearly because of this report.

His authoritative voice rang out.

"Recently, we have gradually lost contact with our branches in various regions."

An investigation team was dispatched to various branch offices to investigate, and found that the believers who should have been stationed in the buildings had disappeared without a trace, leaving no information behind.

The scene was cleaned up very well, without a trace of blood, but there were broken ornaments everywhere, which was evidence that could not be removed.

Preliminary investigations suggest that the Chamber of Commerce branch building was attacked by unidentified individuals, and the slaves and vampires imprisoned in the dungeon were also taken away.

Standing next to Lockston Kingsol was a man in a grey robe, who was considered his secretary. His position in the faction was that of a deacon, second only to the bishops. He was definitely in the second tier of the faction, while the first tier consisted of him and the various bishops.

The deacon frowned upon hearing the news, but remained silent.

“There was no blood at the scene; it’s like something out of a vampire’s job,” Lockston Kingsol analyzed.

The deacon beside him spoke up: "Did those vampires discover that we were capturing vampires to make 'blood gifts'? This is retaliation."

Lockston Kingsol said in a deep voice, "That's what I thought at first too. The vampires suddenly went missing, and then the Chamber of Commerce branch building was attacked shortly afterward. Coupled with the evidence of the methods used, it's hard to think of anything other than vampire retaliation."

From Lockston Kingsol's words, the deacon keenly sensed something.

"You mean, it wasn't the vampires who did it, but someone framed them?"

Lockston Kingsol nodded slightly.

It was precisely because this butler possessed a decent magical rank, was intelligent, and adept at reading people that he kept this butler by his side to work.

Having subordinates like these makes everything much easier.

“I was fooled at first too, until I saw that message.” Lockston Kingsolton paused, then continued, “The Xars territory branch, where Simon is based, has also lost contact.”

The deacon was startled, somewhat incredulous: "Simon... Your Excellency the Bishop?"

A rare look of seriousness appeared on Lockston Kingsol's face.

"Even he fell, those vampires don't have that kind of strength. Although Simon is old, he is still a genuine eighth-tier professional. 'Though I am old, my arrows are still sharp' is a perfect description of him."

Moreover, Simon is very conscious of his life and is an overly cautious guy. It's impossible for him to be tricked. The only possibility is that he was crushed in a direct battle, otherwise he would have been unable to escape.

This requires at least a peak eighth-tier professional to accomplish.

The deacon murmured, "Those vampires could only muster a few at the peak of the seventh rank at most, so it couldn't be them?"

“Correct,” Lockston Kingsol said. “Then, who could it be?”

And, will those people take any further action?

The deacon remained silent, no longer speaking easily, as if he was racking his brains for a solution.

Lockston Kingsol suddenly burst out laughing.

“Interesting. Since I took over as archbishop, I have never seen anyone so daring to provoke me.”

The order was given to gather the believers, including the bishops, at Nas's Ridge.

I will go and meet with them myself.

"Understood." The steward replied respectfully and silently withdrew.

Lockston Kingsol continued to examine the parchment.

The Golden Weasel Merchant Guild has already achieved automated revenue generation.

In other words, the Golden Weasel Merchant Guild can still operate normally without involving cult members, which is why Lockston Kingsol was able to issue such an order. This will cause losses to the guild, but it won't be crippling.

Even if these beneficiaries withdraw for a period of time, the entire chamber of commerce system will not collapse; at most, some ongoing projects will need to be suspended.

For example, the plan to improve "Blood Gift" and attack the "Grand Merchant Guild" convoy will have to be temporarily shelved.

"This is troublesome. This will mean we'll earn a lot less money. Lord Avaris will be disappointed."

"Dong dong dong".

A knock sounded at the door; it was the deacon who had returned.

Lockston Kingsol raised an eyebrow: "What is it now?"

The butler replied, "Master, Miss has arrived..."

“Sasha?” In an instant, Lockston Kingsol’s imposing manner vanished: “Bring her in quickly.”

Sasha is a six-year-old girl with golden curly hair, as bright as the autumn sun. Her eyes are large and bright, like deep blue sapphires, sparkling with innocent light. She wears a delicate lace-trimmed dress, the hem of which flutters lightly as she runs, embroidered with the emblem of the Golden Weasel Merchant Guild—a golden weasel.

A series of light footsteps sounded, and then a petite figure rushed into the room like a whirlwind and pounced on her.

“Grandpa!” Sasha called out sweetly.

That's right, this adorable little girl, Sasha Kingsol, is the granddaughter of Lockston Kingsol.

Sasha rushed into her grandfather's arms, her little hands clutching Lockston's collar tightly, her face pressed against his chest, feeling that familiar warmth and security. Lockston put down the report he was holding, and gently stroked Sasha's hair with his large, weathered hands, which were still warm, his eyes filled with endless doting and love.

“Oh, my little Sasha, what’s so exciting for you today?” Lockston’s voice became deep and gentle, and his smile blossomed in his wrinkles.

In that instant, Lockston Kingsol was no longer a dignified guild master or the archbishop of the top faction of the Demon Order, but rather a kind old grandfather who dotes on his granddaughter and is always around.

"Grandpa, listen to me..."

Sasha looked up, her face beaming with a bright smile. Her little mouth opened, eager to share her little secret.

"Sasha."

"Grandpa, what's wrong?" The little girl asked with an innocent smile.

Lockston said softly, "Grandpa will have some things to do these next few days. How about Sasha stays with Mom and Dad for a few days?"

Sasha seemed a little disappointed.

"Okay, then Grandpa should come back soon..."