My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill-Chapter 322

"You don’t need to think about it too much,let’s keep going and kill Richard " Said Sylvara

"You’re right," Satou agreed, forcing his mind back to operational focus. "Just noticing the contrast."

"Between us and them? Always there. Part of what we are."

They continued walking,after they had covered a certain distance, that’s when Satou first noticed something wrong.

It was subtle at first—so subtle he almost missed it. The street was quieter than it should be for this time of evening. Residential areas usually had people out and about: children playing their last games before curfew, neighbors chatting over fences, residents taking evening walks. But this street was notably empty. A few scattered figures were visible in the distance, but nowhere near the level of activity Satou would have expected.

"Sylvara," he said quietly, "look around. What do you notice?"

She quickly used her eyes to observe and analyze—scanned the street systematically. After a moment, she frowned slightly.

"Fewer people than there should be. Windows curtained despite the nice weather. Doors closed when they should be open for air circulation." Her frown deepened. "And I haven’t seen a single city guard since we left the commercial district."

That last point crystalized Satou’s unease. Cassius’s intelligence had been very specific: this area near the monastery district usually had heavy patrol presence, especially in the evening when the temples and shrines had visitors. The monastery itself was a landmark, a center of religious activity, theoretically deserving of significant security attention.

But there wasn’t a single guard visible.

They continued walking, both now hyperalert, their casual merchant personas hiding predators scanning for threats. Satou’s enhanced hearing strained, searching for the telltale sounds of guard patrols—the clank of armor, the measured footfalls of people walking prescribed routes, the low conversation of bored soldiers complaining about their duty.

Nothing.

"This is wrong," Satou said quietly as they turned east toward the monastery district.

The street ahead opened into a broader avenue, well-maintained stone rather than packed earth, clearly an important thoroughfare leading to the religious quarter of the city. Under normal circumstances, this street should have been busy with evening temple-goers, monks traveling between shrines, citizens visiting for evening prayers, merchants selling religious supplies.

But it was nearly deserted.

Satou counted exactly seven people visible on the entire length of the avenue—a street that should have held dozens or hundreds. The temples and shrines that lined the road were lit, their doors open, but no one seemed to be taking advantage of the access.

"Do we abort?" Sylvara asked, her hand moving casually toward a concealed weapon in a way that would look like adjusting her cloak to any observer.

Satou considered the question seriously, weighing tactical reality against mission objectives. Every instinct he’d developed through months of dangerous missions was screaming that this felt wrong. The empty streets, the missing guards, the unusual quiet—all of it pointed to something having changed since Cassius’s intelligence gathering.

But Richard was still in that monastery. This was possibly their only opportunity to eliminate him before he returned to Chronus’s protection. Walking away meant potentially losing their best chance to cripple the Second Seat permanently.

More than that, Satou had come too far to turn back now. This could be the only chance, he has to kill Richard.

"We proceed," he decided, his voice carrying absolute conviction. "But we assume the mission is compromised. Full combat readiness from here on. Expect traps, prepare for ambush, trust nothing."

Sylvara nodded sharply, her entire demeanor shifting subtly. The casual merchant persona dropped away like a discarded cloak, replaced by the cold focus of a professional killer. Her hands moved to better weapon positions. Her gait changed—still appearing normal to casual observers but actually optimized for rapid combat response. Her eyes scanned continuously, categorizing threats and cover positions automatically.

They continued forward, now moving through shadows rather than down the center of the street. It was a natural enough behavior—people naturally walked in areas with more cover, especially in the evening when the temperature dropped and shadows offered protection from the chill breeze. But for Satou and Sylvara, the shadow positioning was tactical: harder to see clearly, better angles for spotting ambushes, quicker access to concealment if violence erupted.

The monastery came into full view as they rounded a final curve in the avenue. The Sanctum of Eternal Wisdom was an impressive structure—three centuries old according to historical records, built in the classical religious architecture style with high walls, arched entrances, flying buttresses supporting the main building, and a distinctive bell tower rising above everything else. The stonework showed its age but was well-maintained, the kind of building that would probably stand for centuries more with proper care.

Torches blazed along the walls exactly as Cassius had described, creating pools of light that eliminated shadows in key defensive positions. The main building was lit from within, warm candlelight spilling from windows on multiple floors. From a distance, it looked exactly like the peaceful religious institution it was supposed to be—scholarly monks studying ancient texts, evening prayers being conducted, the quiet contemplation that characterized monastic life.

But Satou’s enhanced senses immediately detected wrongness.

"No guards on the walls," he observed, studying the fortifications carefully. His enhanced vision could pick out details even in the gathering darkness. "Cassius said there should be two-man patrols every six minutes. I see none."

"Main gate is closed," Sylvara added, pointing. "Intelligence suggested it typically stays open until ninth bell for evening visitors seeking prayer or counsel. It’s not even eighth bell yet."

"And I hear nothing," Satou continued, his enhanced hearing straining to pick up sounds from the monastery. "No voices, no footsteps, no movement. Should be monks chanting evening prayers, students discussing texts, staff preparing evening meals. But it’s silent. Completely silent."

They found an observation point in the shadow of a nearby building, concealed from direct view but with clear sight lines to the monastery. For five full minutes, they watched in complete stillness, their bodies statue-immobile as only trained fighters could achieve, barely breathing as they studied their target.

Nothing moved on the walls. No patrols appeared. No one entered or exited the main gate. The monastery sat there, lit and seemingly waiting, but utterly devoid of the activity it should have had.

"It’s a trap," Sylvara stated flatly. Not a question, not speculation—simple tactical assessment of obvious fact.

"Yes," Satou agreed, seeing no point in pretending otherwise. "The question is whether Richard is bait or hunter. Is he sitting there unaware while someone else has set up an ambush around him? Or has he orchestrated this himself, aware that he’s being hunted and deliberately creating favorable conditions for turning the tables on his pursuers?"

"Does it matter?" Sylvara asked pragmatically. "Either way, we’re walking into a prepared killing zone."

Before Satou could respond, he detected movement approaching from behind—supernatural speed, precise positioning, the particular pattern of motion that marked vampire movement. Both he and Sylvara spun instantly, weapons manifesting in their hands with the speed of long practice.

Cassius emerged from shadows twenty feet away, his hands raised in the universal gesture of peaceful intent. He was still wearing his city guard uniform, the polished armor reflecting light from distant street lamps. His red vampire eyes glowed slightly in the darkness, a telltale sign of his supernatural nature that he usually kept suppressed but had apparently stopped bothering to hide.

"Peace," he said quickly, his voice pitched to carry just far enough for them to hear but no farther. "It’s me."

Satou didn’t immediately lower his manifested Shadow Blade, his tactical mind considering the possibility that Cassius had been compromised, that this was part of the trap. But after a moment’s assessment—reading body language, analyzing micro-expressions, weighing probabilities—he dismissed the weapon and gestured for the vampire to approach.

Cassius moved into their concealment with the fluid grace that supernatural beings possessed, his movements utterly silent despite the armor he wore. Up close, Satou could see tension in the vampire’s posture, concern in his expression. Whatever had happened, Cassius was genuinely worried.

"Report," Satou commanded quietly. "What’s changed?"

Cassius didn’t waste time with preliminaries. "The situation has deteriorated significantly. Approximately two hours ago—around 5:30 PM—all monastery guards were recalled. Every single one. Twenty-eight professional mercenaries ordered to return to their barracks immediately by direct command from the head monk himself."

"Reason?" Sylvara asked sharply.

"The monastery is closing for ’private meditation’ tonight. A special religious observance requiring complete isolation and silence. No guards, no visitors, no interruptions. Only monks and..." Cassius paused significantly, "...invited guests allowed on the grounds."

"Meaning Richard’s people," Satou concluded.

"Exactly. I attempted to confirm Richard’s presence thirty minutes ago from my guard position. There’s a spot near the main gate where the courtyard is partially visible. I used my enhanced vision to observe through the library windows." Cassius’s expression was grim. "I saw him. Still at his usual table, apparently reading. But the situation around him has changed dramatically."

"Changed how?" Satou pressed.