"Damn it."

Horatu cursed viciously in his heart.

*Where the hell did this flat-faced bastard crawl out from?*

He desperately wanted to punch that square jaw right now!

But reason warned him against such recklessness.

The bastard before him might be insignificant, but behind him stood the Eastern Pearl Empire!

Mercenaries might have no borders, yet committing crimes in any nation meant facing its laws—severe cases could even be charged with treason!

If Horatu didn’t cooperate, that’s exactly the fate awaiting them.

So despite his seething resentment, he could only grit his teeth and watch his mercenaries submit to inspection one by one.

Verlith had already helped Alyssa down from the carriage and now stood quietly beside her.

As the search team examined the mercenaries, Verlith stole glances, hoping to spot something suspicious—like letters—on them.

When the square-jawed, upright captain first appeared, Verlith had considered reporting the mercenaries’ suspicious behavior directly.

But she abandoned the tempting idea.

Her current identity was merely a lowly maid. In this guise, her words held no weight. If the search team found no evidence on Horatu, she’d be branded a slanderer—a terrible trade-off.

She’d learned this lesson the hard way back in the Northern Coalition.

That single mistake had taught her the brutal importance of *evidence*.

For now, all she could do was observe patiently.

Cowed by the search team’s authority, the mercenaries raised their arms and lined up.

The square-faced captain, clad in imperial officer’s armor, his face heavy with jowls, circled them with several soldiers like farmers inspecting piglets in a sty.

"Tch. Boys, you’re all *built*, aren’t ya?"

His bovine eyes gleamed with unsettling intent as he clicked his tongue.

Suddenly, he jabbed a finger at a bulge on one mercenary’s waist—a soft, rounded lump—and barked, "What’s hidden there? Some living thing? Open it!"

"Sir, it’s just rations! Try a bite—they’re delicious!" the mercenary grinned, pulling out a flattened bread cake to offer the captain.

The mercenary camp erupted in raucous laughter.

"Piss off!"

The captain roared, swatting the bread away with a meaty palm before kicking the poor bastard sprawling.

"Tom! Strip-search them in the woods!"

"Yes, Captain!"

Soldier Tom, obeying orders, ignored the mercenaries’ protests and roughly herded them toward the trees.

With the mercenaries dealt with, the captain snorted heavily and fixed his savage gaze on the carriage. "Search that wagon!"

"Understood, Captain!"

Cavalrymen began rummaging through the carriage’s contents.

"Vier," Alyssa hissed, indignant. "What *is* the Netherbane Squad? How dare they act so arrogantly? Can they just toss our carriage around like this? My clothes are in there!"

Born to privilege, Alyssa was accustomed to military officials treating her with utmost respect—never such crude brutality.

Verlith shared her disdain, glaring fiercely at the soldiers, but felt powerless.

At Alyssa’s question, she whispered an explanation:

"The Netherbane Squad executes Netherborn Elves."

"What *are* Netherborn Elves?" Alyssa asked, curious. Sheltered within palace walls, she knew little of the continent’s greatest threat.

"They are mankind’s gravest peril," Verlith replied patiently. "Like Helios rising daily in the sky, or Artemis’s half-moon only reaching fullness once a century—Netherborn Elves embody pure evil. Bloodthirsty and savage, they exist to terrorize the world, corrupt the land, dominate the weak, and flaunt their power as butchers."

Alyssa’s eyes widened in shock. "What? Such creatures truly exist? Unbelievable!"

"Well…" Verlith hesitated. "Tree Spirit Forest’s terrain is treacherous. Rumors say Netherborn Elves have lurked here for a hundred years."

"I’ve visited Tree Spirit Forest many times and never seen one!" Alyssa eyed her skeptically.

"Not encountering them is pure luck," Verlith said gravely in her soft, melodious voice. "If you ever *do* meet them… it’s already too late."

"Why? Such wondrous creatures—I’d love to see one! I’m rather curious," Alyssa mused, her heart untainted by the world’s darkness, unable to fathom true evil.

Hearing such naive words, Verlith could only smile bitterly. "My lady, you simply haven’t witnessed their brutality. Trust me—you *don’t* want that lesson."

"Huh?" Alyssa blinked, utterly bewildered.

"During the Continental War," Verlith lowered her voice, "the Eastern Pearl Empire’s army tried crossing Tree Spirit Forest to invade the Volthus Empire. They stumbled upon a Netherborn Elf swarm… and were annihilated. Twenty thousand troops. Not a single survivor."

"So terrifying!" Alyssa gasped at the horrific toll.

"Of course," Verlith nodded. "Just hearing ‘Netherborn Elf’ makes any soldier tense as a bowstring, seeing enemies in every shadow."

"But… how do Netherborn Elves even *come* to be?" Alyssa pressed.

"Ever heard this saying?" Verlith teased.

"What saying?"

"*White sand in black soil turns black too.*"

"What does that mean?" Alyssa frowned.

"It’s an old proverb," Verlith explained. "*Nie* means black earth. Pure white sand mixed with black soil darkens alongside it—just as good people turn bad in bad places. Tree Spirits are humanity’s allies, but some… become corrupted. Those are the Netherborn Elves."

"Worse still," she continued, "they don’t just embody evil—they emit a purple-black miasma. Breathing it in or touching it twists living things into bloodthirsty, savage monsters. Their skin blackens. We call this corruption *Netherblight*. Creatures twisted by it become Netherized Beings."

"So… they’re searching for Netherized Beings?" Alyssa asked after listening intently.

Verlith nodded grimly. "Clearly. Mobilizing a squad like this means Netherborn Elves are nearby. Alyssa, we’re in grave danger."

"You said earlier Netherized Beings spread corruption like a virus if unchecked?" Alyssa’s expression turned serious.

"Exactly!" Verlith confirmed. "Wherever Netherborn Elves dwell, Netherblight festers. They’re lethal infection sources. Every nation researches cures, but very few can actually produce them."

"Such medicine exists?" Alyssa’s eyes widened. "I study alchemy and have *never* heard of it!"

"Naturally," Verlith chuckled. "It’s a state secret. And even now, it’s only in development. Mass production? Who knows when that’ll happen."

"A secret? But *you* know about it!" Alyssa pouted.

Verlith sighed inwardly. While commoners knew nothing, every nation’s elite understood the drug’s critical importance.

"Alright, alright," she relented. "It’s not *that* secret. Just teasing."

"Hmph. Not funny at all," Alyssa huffed. "Though… your silly face *is* rather cute."

"Is it? Hahaha…" Verlith feigned ignorance, tilting her head to gaze at the sky.

Meanwhile, in the woods, the mercenaries stood stripped bare, their rugged faces twisted with humiliation.

"Covering up? Got something to hide?" a soldier in sealed protective armor snapped, wrenching one mercenary’s hands away from his body with disgust. His voice echoed muffled through the helm. "Seen plenty of *that* before!"

"Fine! Stare all you want! Hahahaha!" Horatu barked, crossing his arms and baring himself defiantly.

"Fresh wounds?" the soldier grunted, scanning his body.

"Wounds?" Horatu winked. "Look for yourself! Every mercenary’s got scars, right, brothers?"

"Damn right!" the others chorused.

"*Fresh* wounds!" the soldier bellowed before Horatu could reply, turning to the whole group. "Listen up! Anyone with open wounds gets priority inspection! Wounds attract infection fastest! Infected skin turns *purple*! Check yourselves! That purple spreads—until your whole body’s black as night! Then you’re done for! Netherblight turns you savage. You’ll kill until you drop. And this *is* contagious!"

The mercenaries recoiled, scrambling apart, terrified of catching the taint from each other.

Hearing the commotion, the captain nodded in satisfaction. *These brats are learning.*

Back at the carriage, the cavalrymen finished their search.

Alyssa’s status had spared their belongings from being tossed about.

But finding nothing suspicious troubled Verlith. Still, she knew Horatu wasn’t a brute—he was cunning. He’d likely anticipated inspection and prepared accordingly.