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"Okay, Boss Clint." Jane's voice was sweet. She was diligent and didn't even steal bread. Clint was very satisfied with her.

The baker carried the finished bread on his back, calmly closed the back door, and decided to stroll along the embankment, feeling the sea breeze. A new poet had recently arrived at the tavern in Balala, and every day he would perform his newly composed long poem about Lord Parma and the five prostitutes. If he went there now, he would be able to catch the first performance in the afternoon.

Clint was so engrossed in Mr. Palmer's romantic affairs that he didn't notice anything when the figure in the black trench coat brushed past him.

"Please give me a honey apple bread, made with pure flour without sawdust." The man's voice sounded along with the tinkling sound of coins entering the box.

Without even looking up, Jane deftly tied the bread with two straw ropes, turned around, stepped on the small stool, and handed the bread out with a big smile.

"Those terrified pseudo-believers would be very surprised if they saw that the Inquisitor they fear most has a sweet tooth," Hopper joked.

Igor reached for the still-warm bread. The aroma of the soft bread wrapped in candied apple slices beckoned him to eat it immediately. The Inquisitor, as he wished, broke off a large piece and placed it in his mouth. The slightly sour apple and the honey-coated crust combined perfectly, leaving him licking his fingers with a lingering aftertaste.

"I'm afraid the orcs in Eagle's Nest would never have guessed that the devil lady who had caused such bloodshed in the camp was now an apprentice in a bakery."

"What does that have to do with Jane?" The dwarf moved a chair over and tiptoed to stuff the candy back onto the top of the cabinet. "It was obviously the great and kind Miss Judith's act of saving people that moved the Perfect Man, and he sent angels to burn down the orcs' camp. The bards of Emerald Harbor composed no less than twenty long poems about it and sang them every day."

"Speaking of orcs, I haven't thanked you yet." Igor leaned against the counter with his back to her, looking like a leisurely sun-soaked traveler. "If you hadn't ventured into this dangerous place, I'm afraid I wouldn't have made such great progress."

"I'd love to say I transformed into a stinking orc and went to the Aerie to gather information for you. However, I've decided not to challenge the Inquisitor's ability to discern lies."

"No matter what, I should give you a higher reward," the Inquisitor said sternly, "after all, you used up our last reward to infiltrate."

It took Hopper a few seconds to realize the Inquisitor was referring to the fake blood of the God of Change. She waved her hand and said, "If you really want to pay me, find a way to capture Miss Mystery. My dear boss alone has heard five versions of Mr. Palmer's death, and the key is that none of them mention Miss Mystery."

Igor spread his hands, indicating that he had no other options. "Before I received your letter, I always thought the dwarfs' gathering was related to the mysterious lady. Now that this suspicion has been ruled out, I can only find another way."

"I immediately visited Mrs. Palma after receiving the letter," the Inquisitor recalled. "As I expected, no one in the entire Palma family had ever seen the mysterious young lady. Even the coachman had only seen her from behind in a black cloak. The only useful information I obtained was that this young lady was taller than Mr. Palma."

Hopper sighed and said, "Death or loss of soul? Where's his body?"

"I've already checked. Lord Palma's death was undignified enough that his family declined all condolences for the sake of family dignity. But I still managed to take a look. His body was intact, but I smelled honey, bitter herbs, and some strange insect smell in his mouth. I guess it was the venom of a poisonous ginseng and a manticore."

"The adhesive, relaxant, and corrosive agent are enough to cause permanent damage to the vocal cords. An excellent potion to make people mute even after death." Hopper counted on his fingers and consciously did not ask the Inquisitor how he saw the body.

Igor nodded, looking rather distressed. He scratched his chin habitually and said, "Perhaps we should find a druid and ask the horse. Or perhaps a wizard for some magical spell that could help us recapture what happened back then."

Hopper's knowledge of spells is similar to that of the Inquisitor. She has some understanding of destructive spells such as lightning bolts, but she is completely clueless when it comes to prophecy.

"I don't know much about this kind of magic. But from what I know, the memory of animals is different from that of highly intelligent creatures. It's difficult to expect a horse to remember what a human looks like. We'd better find a wizard to ask indirectly."

The judge seemed to share the same sentiment. He glanced at the sun, then pulled a neatly folded letter from his pocket and handed it over.

"Let's put this aside for now. I'll try to find a fortune teller to consult. I came to see you today for another matter. There's a gentleman who has been wanting to see you, but he's been recovering from an illness and has only recently returned to work. I wonder if you'd be free tomorrow night to meet and chat."

Hopper raised an eyebrow. Several candidates came to her mind, but she couldn't decide on any of them. She took the letter. The letterhead, written in elegant handwriting, sincerely invited her to a tea party. The address was somewhere in the Surf District.

That night, Hopper stood outside the Toy Workshop in Surfside, double-checked the address on the letterhead, and knocked on the door.

The door opened immediately, as if someone had been waiting for her to knock. The tall waiter standing inside was bent at a right angle.

"Welcome, ma'am."

The waiter's skin was a shiny, streaked brown, and his carved wooden face was inlaid with two obsidian eyes—a wooden golem. Hopper noticed that its waist was actually a bearing, which explained the odd angle of its bow.

"Lady Hearthheart is waiting for you," the golem's voice rang out from its chest, and then it took the lead and walked forward. "Please follow me."

She followed the golem through the toy workshop's shop, across a courtyard filled with piles of various woods, until they came to a half-sunken, cave-like house with a smoothly curved roof.

The owner of the house must have received the news long ago, because before Hopper finished walking up the stairs, someone opened the door.

Lady Tira Hearthheart, who had once scolded Judith at the Westerling family's dinner party, came out to greet them personally and took Hopper's hands with her rough hands.

"I'm so glad you came, Ms. Hopper."

"You know my identity?" Hopper's mind raced. The moment he asked the question, he immediately understood why a nobleman, whom he had never met, knew his identity. "Indeed, you performed the sacrifice to the Blood Father?"

Lady Hearthheart continued walking, answering Hopper's questions. "The City of Brew responded to my offering and sent Inquisitor Igor to investigate the deaths of my people. It was he who told us about your identity and what you did in the Eagle's Nest."

"I remember Inquisitor Igor said there was a gentleman I needed to speak to..." Hopper didn't dwell on Igor's disclosure of his information. After all, he and Igor hadn't signed a confidentiality agreement, and he was a reliable ally. Even the devil had to learn the art of compromise.

At this time, Lady Hearthheart had already led her through the entrance hall and living room and into a place that Hopper thought should be a studio. Four eternal flames were luxuriously hung on the walls surrounded by shelves and tools, illuminating the windowless room as bright as day.

In the center of the room stood a huge work table, taking up almost half the room. The dwarf, who was busy at the table, looked up at the noise, his shaggy beard almost covering his entire face.

"It's you?!"

Chapter 155: Sudden Enlightenment One After Another

"It's you! Master Conn." Hopper was surprised to recognize that the dwarf in front of him was the one he had rescued from the Eagle's Nest that day. "Is it you who wanted to see me?"

As soon as she said that, she understood. That day, they were rescued by a group of dwarf pheasant knights. Come to think of it, the most powerful dwarf noble in Emerald Harbor was none other than Lady Hearthheart.

The dwarf looked at her in confusion, then suddenly realized, "So it's you. Inquisitor Igor told me that the warrior who rescued me from the dungeon that day could transform. I thought you were some kind of shapeshifter."

Master Conn threw his arms wide and gave her a hug that smelled of shavings and varnish, nearly crushing Hopper's dwarf figure.

"I've always wanted to thank you in person." Master Conn finally let go of the poor little dwarf and wiped his eyes with his thick fingers. "It's just that the orcs' icy dungeon severely damaged my lungs. For a time, I couldn't even get out of bed. It wasn't until yesterday that I tried to pick up my tools again."

"Of course, none of this is possible without my steadfast and generous sponsor, Lady Hearthheart." The dwarf took off his bonnet with genuine affection and bowed to Lady Hearthheart. "If it weren't for her and her warriors, I would have rotted away in that damn place long ago."

Ms. Luxin waved her hand, indicating that it was not worth mentioning.

"Times are tough, Master." The lady walked over to the workbench, took a bottle and three glasses from the cabinet, and began to pour wine. "We minorities should help each other."

The bottle contained aged mead, and the Hearth Lady herself poured a full cup and handed it to the dwarf. It was only then that Hopper noticed that there was no fourth creature in the room; even the wood golem had stopped at the door.

"Is Mr. Igor not here?" Hopper calmly took the wine glass handed to him by Lady Hearthheart, but just held it in his hand. "I thought he was the bridge of communication between us."

The lady noticed Hopper's little action, drank the wine in her glass in one gulp, and smacked her lips. "Ten-year-old 'Licking Paw Bear', my last box."

She poured herself another glass, held it up, and carefully looked at the golden liquid slowly flowing down the wall of the glass.

"The God of Drinking Divine Blood forbids his clergy from participating in any battles or conspiracies between true gods," the lady explained, "so I didn't call him over."

Hopper understood her implication: "True God? You want to deal with the Archbishop of the Perfect Man? Honestly, I don't think that's a sensible idea."

"Perhaps." The ten-year-old wine had a strong aftertaste, and Lady Furnace's cheeks quickly turned red as if she had a fever. "I was already desperate. The Westerlings were in cahoots with them, the Gonzagas were always opportunistic, and the Montes..."

She snorted in disdain.

"The Monte family only cares about their own interests. No noble in this city cares about the rights of our lesser races. The parliament is a bunch of fat-headed idiots, which is why they turned a blind eye to Eichmann's ambitions. Driving out all the half-bloods is just his first step. Next is all the non-humans, and then he will crown himself."

Hopper found a chair and sat down, listening quietly to the lady telling the secrets of the Emerald Harbor nobles.

"My business was being squeezed, people I knew were being murdered, and no one cared. I had even begun gathering wood to build a ship big enough to carry my family away. But then the gods smiled upon me."

Perhaps it was the effect of alcohol, but her eyes flashed with enthusiasm, and her expression was relaxed yet intoxicated as she recalled the scene.

"Good news keeps coming. The City of Brew has responded to my offering. Weapons have been found. A bastard child has appeared in the Westerling family. Even when I went to the sheriff's duty room, I could overhear Knight Aaron reporting to Sheriff Edmund that the dwarf masters of Galena Castle might still be alive. Isn't this the gods using me to accomplish the feat of defeating Eichmann?"

"Wait a minute, Ms. Hearthheart," Hopper said, confused by her rapid-fire confession. "What weapons? What does this have to do with defeating Eichmann?"

"Let me explain, Ms. Hopper," Master Conn said, helping the obviously overly excited lady to sit on a high-backed chair. "Please follow me. I'm sure you can recognize this weapon."

Hopper followed his lead and looked towards the workbench. Chisels and knives made of various metals were placed on the large workbench. Dozens of gray and white wood chips lay quietly in the middle of the sawdust-strewn surface.

"Winter Moon," Hopper said in surprise, and immediately thought of the dwarf guards who arrived in time on the day of the auction. "So you bought it back?"

"Now, please allow me to introduce," said Lady Luxin, jumping up from her chair, without a trace of the dignified demeanor usually associated with female nobles, "the most skilled bow maker in all of Fanglian Castle, and perhaps even in the entire Northern Continent—Master Kang En!"

The dwarf smoothed his tangled beard and accepted the lady's praise without any modesty.

"I still don't understand," Hopper pointed to the pile of wood chips, "what do you need an elven bow for?"

"It's no secret that Lady Westerling enjoys elven craftsmanship," said Lady Hearthheart with a sly expression. "When my fleet brought back rumors that Grand Duke Bettys had obtained a cursed elven bow from Hell, I came up with a preliminary plan."

"My original plan was simple. Through several intermediaries, I leaked to Lord Westerling the news that Grand Duke Bettys had a batch of elven artifacts. Sure enough, he contacted Bettys and asked her to buy them. But he was nowhere near as well-informed as I was. I knew Bettys had a murky relationship with the devils. I simply had to conceal the origins of the Solstice Moon and have Westerling buy the bow back. The power of Hell attached to it would be enough to unleash unrest on his entire family."

Hopper held back her words. In her opinion, this plan was not only full of loopholes but also had low returns. It really couldn't be considered a good plan.

Teela Hearthheart sighed. "Then I came to my senses. Even if I had tricked Westerling into buying a potentially cursed longbow, what good would it have done me and my people, other than venting my anger? Then, my informant brought me bad news: the Winter Moon was shattered beyond recognition. There was no point in pursuing this plan."

"In the end, I don't know which deity gently piqued the spark of inspiration in my mind," the lady lamented. "That day, I was feeling down after being neglected by Westerling. I went out for a walk early in the morning and stumbled into the Sheriff's Square. I saw Knight Aaron hurriedly looking for Edmund. Curious, I followed him and heard the news that the dwarf masters might still be alive."

The lady's expression was natural, showing no guilt at all for following others or eavesdropping on their conversations.

"I immediately understood that this was the gods guiding me. I immediately thought of a way to rescue the dwarf master, especially Master Conn."

"Wait," Hopper interrupted her, "how did you know Master Conn was in the Eagle's Nest? And how did you know I would bring him out that day? Even I didn't know the dwarf I brought out was Master Conn. All the sacrifices were chosen by Daluk."

Ms. Luxin just smiled and said nothing.

Hopper woke up as if from a dream.

"I've always suspected that some nobles were supporting Eagle's Nest. It turns out you're the financial backer behind Daluk!"

Chapter 156 Fat Beef and Bones

"There's no need to make such a fuss, Ms. Hopper," said Ms. Hearthheart without shame. "It's somewhat of a tradition for the nobles to support the orcs of Eagle's Nest. Without them, how could the merchants of Emerald City feel protected? Although we haven't communicated with each other, I'm sure it's not just the Hearthheart family who are doing this."

"However, those stinking beasts are far too greedy," the lady's face darkened. "After Kolog ascended to the position of chief, he completely destroyed the tacit understanding between us. I don't know which fool sent that so-called 'envoy', but she undoubtedly fueled the orcs' ambitions."

"So the reason why Daluk was able to fight against Kolog was because of your support," Hopper said bluntly. "No wonder he disobeyed Kolog's orders and attacked human villages."

A cruel smile appeared on Lady Hearthheart's face.

"I have nothing to hide from a succubus. This is just a small act of revenge. Since the 'Emissary' and the forces behind him used the orcs to kill my people, why can't I use the orcs to get rid of some long-legged people?"

Hopper couldn't help but clap softly. She had originally thought that this lady was just sensitive and irritable, but now it seemed that she had an extremely strong desire for revenge.

"I've lived in the Emerald City for some time," Hopper said, raising his glass to the lady and taking a sip. "What you say is different from what I've heard. Rumors out there say that orcs only kill humans and don't harm other races."

Ms. Luxin and Master Kang En snorted coldly at the same time.

"Eichmann naturally wants to throw all the blame on other races. He wants the entire council to believe that it's us, the alien races, who brought the orc disaster upon us," the female dwarf pointed out sharply. "But in this matter, Westerling and Monte aren't exactly aboveboard either."

"Westling is old. To pave the way for little Peter, he's willing to weaken everyone else. As for that hyena from the Monte family, since the orc attack allows him to expand his power, it doesn't matter to him whether the dead are dwarves or humans."

Master Kang En frowned, and it was obvious that he was also quite dissatisfied with the nobles of Emerald Harbor.

"Galena Castle and Emerald Harbor have always helped each other," the old dwarf sighed, walked back to his workbench, and resumed his unfinished work. "When I was young, the humans in this city were far less greedy and extravagant, and certainly not ones to betray their allies."

The succubus nodded. From her own experience, Emerald Harbor was far from the chaotic and disorderly atmosphere of typical harbor cities. Here, the social classes were clearly defined, and order was well-established. Commoners found it difficult to challenge the nobility, which suited the demon's tastes perfectly. However, for those oppressed groups, the experience might not be so pleasant.

"You mentioned giving up your original plan," Hopper said, trying to get the subject back on track. "So what's your plan now? And how does it relate to me?"

The lady returned to her chair, poured herself another glass of wine, and said, "I will tell you the story from the beginning."

"At that time, I regarded the destruction of the 'Winter Moon' as a warning and mockery from the gods. It also made me realize that revenge on Westerling was useless. I was disheartened and gave up my plan."

"However, when I heard that Master Kang En and the others might have been captured in the Eagle's Nest, I instantly understood." Her voice became increasingly high-pitched, full of confidence and power. "The gods are only reminding me that I'm going in the wrong direction."

Lady Hearthheart rested her hands on the workbench, the fragments of the Winter Moon reflected in her pupils. "I immediately activated my informant, and sure enough, I received information from Daluk that Master Conn was indeed alive. I immediately adjusted my direction and formulated a second plan."

"Have you ever heard Eichmann's sermons?" she suddenly asked Hopper, and without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Eichmann was a slicked-back, glittering fool. He always claimed that he could not be harmed by any alien race. As long as humans sincerely united around him, they could be like him, protected by the perfect man and free from the harm of alien races."

The demon laughed out loud. She coughed and said, "That's a really, uh, contagious statement."

How could a perfect person have the time to personally watch over all his followers? Of course, Hopper understood Archbishop Eichmann's reasons for doing so—Emerald Harbor, and indeed the entire Northern Continent, was a mixed bag, and the people there generally lacked a sense of security. His claim was indeed quite appealing.

"You don't believe it either, right?" the lady asked with the same smile.

Hopper shrugged and said, "Didn't Master Eichmann say, 'Pious humans can be protected by perfect people like him and will not be harmed by foreigners.' If they are harmed, it is naturally their fault for not being pious enough."

Master Kang En put on a single-lens magnifying glass, looked up and said, "So you already understand our plan?"

The fragments of the longbow shone with a warm luster under the light of the Yongming torch. Hopper watched Master Conn's professional and meticulous restoration work, connecting all the clues and revealing the truth.

"You intend to use this bow to kill Eichmann and thereby break the Church of the Perfect Man's control over this city."

Master Conn waved his hands hurriedly: "No, no, no, Ms. Hopper, how could we do such a cruel thing."

"All I wanted was to shoot him and destroy this so-called myth," the lady said, folding her arms and sitting back in her chair without any image. "I'm not as cruel as Eichmann."

"I just think if he died, things wouldn't end well," Hopper pointed out sarcastically. "After all, the death of a great noble would cause unrest throughout the city, and it would go beyond the limits of the nobles' fighting."

Lady Hearthheart nodded and said, "As Inquisitor Igor said, you are both intelligent and straightforward. If he were just an ordinary priest, I have plenty of ways to make him die quietly. But he has become one of the most sought-after figures in this city without us noticing. I cannot risk causing a city-wide riot. Proving him a fraud will suffice."

"Let me guess," Hopper said, rolling his eyes as he understood, "you want me to play this myth-breaking role."

"Actually, that wasn't my original plan," the Lady admitted. "I wanted to find a mercenary, preferably an orc or drow. But what happened in the Eagle's Nest gave me inspiration."

"That 'golden' Eichmann claimed that it was Judith's piety that moved the Perfect Man, who sent the Black-Winged Angel to save humanity. That's what he preached, and he hoped the residents of Emerald Harbor would believe it."

The smile on the dwarf's face grew more expectant and more cruel.

"However, if the Black-Winged Messenger of the Perfect Man shot him with an elven bow in public, the perfect myth would instantly become a charlatan's deception. I can't wait to see how much 'flesh and blood' the other nobles in the council will tear out of him."

Hopper applauded again. The lady had grasped the crux of the matter—neither Westerling nor the Council had any reason to harm the dwarves or other humanoids. The nobles were simply following the trend out of habit. After all, who wouldn't be happy to extract more benefits?

But how much profit can ordinary civilians get? If the Lady can tear a hole, those "wolves" will naturally abandon the "bones" and go after the injured "fat cows".

She bowed to the lady.