Deep under the busy streets of the same capital city, a secret meeting room hid in darkness, lit only by a single mana-lamp flickering above a worn oak table.
A high-ranking cult soldier was seated across from the other, his face obscured by shadows. His hooded cloak blended into the darkness, giving off an air of cold authority, while his gold faceless mask caught the lamp's dim glow.
A hooded man sat across from him, his face obscured by a thick hood. His body tensed as he leaned forward, hands clasped, his voice low and suspicious. "Thirty mercenaries? Sneaking them into the hunting event secretly? That is a careless demand."
With a slight tilt of his mask, the cult soldier spoke in a smooth yet menacing voice. "Ten escorts are permitted for each noble house. We have forty of our own under their cover. Before the event starts, you must plant these thirty mercenaries in the forest."
