The six of them were the highest-ranking members of Xanathar's Guild, aside from the beholder itself—the legendary "Eye Hand" lieutenants.
The beholder Xanathar was notoriously violent and unpredictable, arrogant beyond reason, but rarely bothered with day-to-day Guild operations. Those responsibilities fell squarely on their shoulders.
If not for the fact that the beholder could wipe them all out in an instant, it was safe to say these six had essentially sidelined the official guildmaster.
"I called everyone here for two reasons," said the Halfling Wanderer. "First, the Underdark folks are moving faster than expected. On my way back, I spotted duergar in the tunnels!"
The Dark Elf arched an eyebrow, his expression a shade sardonic. Now it was clear why the Halfling had raced in like his pants were on fire—a surprise it was duergar, though, and not some sadistic cousin from the homeland.
"We got it." The figure beside the Dark Elf spoke in a deep voice. "We need to accelerate the plan, seal off some of the routes, and hit them hard. Let the Underdark types know who really runs this place!"
The group nodded in agreement. The Halfling continued: "Second, about my mission this time."
He took a steadying breath. "I was ambushed. That guy Charles—it's like he knew someone was planning to raid his monastery from the start!"
An uneasy silence fell over the room. The five others exchanged uncertain glances, struggling to interpret what the Halfling was hinting at.
What's he getting at? Is he implying one of us is a traitor? Or… did this priest Charles just happen to be on alert, and our Halfling had the misfortune to run straight into it?
As suspicion crackled in the air, everyone eyed each other up, searching for any sign of guilt.
Seeing the quick glances, the Halfling's own gaze narrowed; clearly, he had his own suspicions.
Then, he switched gears. "What I mean is that Priest Charles just happened to have a way to counter the strange new lifeforms our Great Xanathar came up with."
"I saw it myself—milky white light covering his blade, and in just two swings, one of those… whatever you call them, was wiped off the face of the earth! Meanwhile, all of us have tried—stab one of those things a dozen times and it doesn't even flinch!"
He made animated gestures as he spoke, spreading his hands wide in mock wonder. "Funny, isn't it? That Mind Flayer's first experimental creation—how come Charles just 'happened' to be able to counter it?"
At this, the others shared another look, uncertainty flickering in their eyes.
"That Mind Flayer's hiding something," one of them blurted. "Bet he's done way more experiments before, just never told us!"
The Halfling nodded approvingly; the others clapped in support, quite pleased with the conclusion.
Even those without a history of personal animosity against Mind Flayers found them bad for business—six was already enough to split the loot; a seventh just meant slicing the pie thinner.
We'll need an excuse to kick him out!
Having reached this unspoken agreement, the group's mood visibly brightened. The Halfling grinned and went on, "Of course, besides the threat posed by that Mind Flayer, we need to keep an eye on this Priest Charles. That stunt's made him our sworn enemy…"
But the tone he used was mostly cavalier—as if the whole affair didn't really trouble him.
"Eh, it's nothing," the male Dark Elf chimed in. "Those Xanathar Dream-creatures are so bizarre, nobody's ever seen anything like them before. So it's not like anyone can tie us to them by default."
"As long as none of us draw attention, there's no way for anyone to link this back to us."
He smiled thinly. "Worst-case scenario—so what if the priest suspects us? What's he gonna do about it?"
"Does he know where we're hiding? Would he dare come dig us out? Would he actually try to navigate the Liberl Port sewers? It's easy to show off at the surface claiming fame and titles for killing Demon Lords, but does he have the guts to come down here and face the rot at this city's core?"
He fired off his challenges, sharp and direct. Far from offended, the others burst into laughter. "Exactly! Thanks to those Chthonians, even the Underdark's guests are poking around our patchwork tunnels."
"Hah! Come here? He'd never even find the exit!"
The Liberl Port sewer system had been under construction for a century—through waves of lords, schemes, and construction phases.
Internal chaos and frequent overhauls meant plans were discarded, records erased, and what remained was an untraceable, sprawling labyrinth. No one truly knew all its secrets.
It was the city's true haven of vice and filth—criminals, cultists, covert deals, even sacrificial rituals all took place here, with the authorities powerless to stop it.
Recently, Chthonian tunnels had broken through to some sewer exits, and evil from the Underdark was reaching up new tendrils to reshape and complicate things even further.
Even Xanathar's Guild, with headquarters planted deep below, couldn't claim to know more than a handful of safe routes. The rest? Off limits, even to them.
Now, not even they could guarantee safe passage. The Underdark's new arrivals were quickly becoming a dangerous headache.
And as for outsiders coming to enforce the law?
Ha! Any such fool would find themselves shredded by the combined forces of evil lurking below.
All the high-ups cackled—except the Dark Elf, whose smile was taut. He and his clique had run from the depths to the surface. If this place really did connect to the Underdark, all those abiding by Lolth, the Spider Queen, would be even more likely to hunt him down…
Time to make alternative plans, he thought, eyes wary as he scanned his colleagues.
...
That night, in the monastery's clinic.
Adele slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a strange, white ceiling. She was confused, unclear on where she was or what had happened.
Suddenly, a familiar voice called: "Adele!"
Her mind cleared a little, and she turned to see her mother, Willo, hurrying to her side and pulling her into an embrace, tears streaming. "Thank goodness, you're awake. I was so scared… you're alright, you're alright…"
Life domain pastors had pulled Adele back from the brink, but what mother wouldn't panic at the sight of her daughter covered in blood?
For days, Willo had lived in terror, dreading that slim, one-in-a-million chance Adele would never wake again.
But fortune was kind.
Willo hugged her, sobbing in relief. As Adele's head cleared, she weakly raised an arm, hugging her mother and patting her gently, voice hoarse but reassuring. "I'm okay, Mom. I'm fine now."
Only then did she realize how feeble she really was—her arms limp, her voice barely above a whisper.
How did I end up like this?
What happened…?
Oh, right. That night, I finished meeting the informant, then found thieves had infiltrated the monastery… Except they turned out to be monstrous assassins.
None of my spells worked. Barkskin wasn't enough to block their attacks… Stupid mistake. Should've used Stoneskin instead.
And then… Charles saved me, didn't he?
In a haze, memories fluttered of a white silhouette and the warmth of his embrace—and her heart skipped a beat.
Gods, did I actually start thinking all those crazy thoughts? Did I say something stupid, too?
Hissss…
Dammit! Seriously!
Why did I have to act like that?
Her mind churned in embarrassment, but before she could get a handle on it, the door opened, and Charles stepped in. Seeing her awake, he broke into a warm smile. "Finally! You've been out for a whole day, Adele."
Adele felt more awkward than ever—this was the last moment she wanted him around. Willo quickly brushed away her tears, mustered a grateful smile, and said, "Thank you, Priest Charles. If not for you, I… I can't imagine going on if something happened to my daughter."
She looked ready to kneel in thanks, but Charles hurried forward, gently stopping her. "No need for that, Matriarch. You and your daughter were my guests, and I failed to protect Adele. It's my fault."
"I should be asking you for forgiveness, not the other way around."
Behind her mother, Adele looked ashamed. Clearly, Charles and the others had been ready for the raid. If she hadn't been wandering the halls, maybe she wouldn't have been hurt at all…
But remembering that night, her pride bristled.
"Who were those people that night?" she blurted out. "Why did my nature magic have no effect on them?"
Charles helped Willo into a nearby chair, then his face grew serious.
"Those were Beholder Tyrants—Xanathar's lieutenants." He explained, "Xanathar is the creator and leader of the Guild, the biggest crime syndicate in Liberl Port."
"As for those creatures—they're Proto-Demons. The very first demons of the Multiverse, the source of the endless hordes spilling from the Infinite Layers of the Abyss."
Adele's eyes went wide. "So that means… Xanathar's Guild is actually a cult working with demons?"
Charles nodded gravely. "It looks that way. We used to think they were just driven by profit—but after the Abyssal Lord attack, I started to suspect some demon-worshiping cultists were hiding inside these underworld gangs."
"I never imagined they'd get so bold—raiding my monastery in broad daylight. Absolutely insane."
He sighed, and Adele shared in the tension. She glanced at Charles, then her mother, then back to Charles, chewing it over. "If it's that dangerous here, Mom, let's just go back to the mountains!"
She wanted to keep her mother safe above all.
Charles nodded slightly. I agree—so long as you're here, there's so much I can't deal with…
But before he could speak, Willo said, "No, Adele, we can't leave."
Adele blinked as Willo straightened up, her voice solid. "Priest Charles has done so much for us. Now that he's been targeted by evil, we can't just run away and abandon him—no matter what!"
She turned to look up at Charles, her usual soft face now full of determination. "I've decided—this New Year, we're not going back to the tribe. We're staying here to help you through whatever comes!"
Charles was stunned, looking at this woman who had always seemed so gentle—now fiercely resolute. He felt a genuine warmth well up inside.
Adele looked conflicted, but after a small sigh, admitted: "Fine… you're right, Mom."
"So, Priest, is there anything we can do for you? Just say the word—we'll do whatever you need."
Charles chuckled, suddenly feeling much lighter. "You bet. Just not yet."
"Get some rest and recover, Adele. Meanwhile, I'll draw up a plan. When you're healed, we'll strike Xanathar's old nest and wipe them out once and for all!"
Xanathar's hideout was a secret nearly no one knew in all of Liberl Port. But to Charles, it was like going home.
Every time he started a new run in that game, he'd always sprint off to loot Xanathar's lair—a path he could now run in his sleep.
After checking Adele over and making sure she was just weak, not in real danger, Charles finally excused himself and left the clinic.
Breathing easier when he was gone, Adele looked at her mother's haggard face and couldn't help but beg, "Mom, please—go rest. There's no way you'll sleep well just sitting here."
Willo shook her head. "I'm not sleepy. Let me stay with you, hold you while you rest."
Adele blushed, pouting, "I don't need you to tuck me in, Mom. I'm too old for that…"
Willo started to reply, but just then a life-nun entered, gently insisting, "Matriarch Willo, please, go get some sleep. I'm on duty—I'll watch over Adele."
Willo hesitated, then conceded. "Alright… I'll go, Adele. Take care of yourself and listen to the nuns."
Adele shot the nun a dirty look, as if blaming her for sending her mother away, though the nun only blinked in confusion, wondering why her kindness was met with such an attitude.
Willo stood, glancing over her shoulder at nearly every step on her way out, lingering until she was finally out of sight down the hall.
Adele watched her leave, but shame kept her from calling her mother back.
Damn… next time, I won't be so stubborn.
She made herself the promise—but life, as usual, had other plans…
Elsewhere, Willo stripped down, slipped under her blanket, and tried to sleep.
But before long she turned onto her side, then again, then back onto her back, eyes finally opening.
She couldn't sleep.
It wasn't just that she'd napped for hours that day. It was mostly what had happened after her immersion baptism with Charles that left her thoughts in chaos.
Whenever she closed her eyes, the scene replayed: her body exposed to Charles's gaze, that blazing look he gave her, burning into her skin and soul.
And her mind ran wild.
After I fell asleep—what happened next?
When he dried me, did he take the chance to… cop a feel?
My body, my chest, my stomach, my hips, my thighs, even…
~~~
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