The Weaver of Fate who had escaped the disaster in the distant city of Mejewa shouted, "The ratmen destroyed my home!" But handsome Murphy didn't look surprised at all.
The reason was probably his earlier conversation with the Blood Captain. Before leaving with Andre, that seemingly crude and lecherous Blood Dread Grand Duke, who was actually shrewd and sharp-eyed, had warned Murphy that he suspected the ratmen's attack on the Blood Dread Clan was most likely a training exercise—and that the giant rats had probably done something similar before.
See? It all added up.
No wonder the vampire clan best suited to the Hunter class was so observant. They were meticulous in noticing details. But once Murphy accepted the facts, new questions quickly arose.
He glanced at Lady Bernice and her family, who were still nearby, leading the undead in repairing the camp. Then he took the excited Weaver of Fate by the wrist and drew her aside before asking in a low voice:
"Are you sure ratmen destroyed your city? The Blood Dread Clan and I just fought tens of thousands of them with only a few thousand people. I don't believe they could have overrun your city through sheer numbers alone!
"You're one of the Thirteen Shadow Elf families!
"You're a major power on the continent. These ratmen have no equipment and no brains. It seems ridiculous that they could break through your walls just by scratching at them with their claws."
"Ah, my master, you're so arrogant!"
The moment she heard Mejewa mentioned, the Weaver of Fate grew agitated. She'd been talking about offering her heart to Murphy, but now she spoke without a trace of deference.
After all, she bore the weight of her homeland's destruction and her family's enmity. In her agitation, she couldn't hide