The expressions of Mira and her companions did not become any better even after Simon, Akaza, and Sonya left.

Their expressions were dark and filled with wariness and worry.

"Hey, Mira. Do you know him from somewhere?"

Mira shifted her gaze from the stairs to her friend, Devia.

She shook her head.

"No. I don’t."

Devia frowned slightly.

She was a demoness with dull brown skin, long black hair that was tied behind her head, and a lean but tired-looking body.

She wore a faded green merchant robe with several small pockets sewn into the sleeves and waist, and around her neck was a thin copper chain that had a small scale attached to it.

She did not look like a warrior.

She looked like what she was.

An average merchant who had seen enough danger on the road to know when to lower her voice.

Sitting beside Devia was a short demon with dark green skin, long pointed ears, a flat nose, and yellow eyes. His race was called the Grelkin, a low-ranking goblin race known more for their sharp noses and greed than their strength.

His name was Brukk, and he wore a brown leather vest over a dirty grey shirt. A small abacus hung from his belt, and a dagger that looked more decorative than useful was strapped to his thigh.

The last demon was tall and thin with pale grey skin and no hair on his head. His name was Orven. He had narrow eyes, long fingers, and a quiet face that made him look like he was always calculating the worth of everything around him. His clothes were plain, a dark travelling coat, worn boots, and a belt filled with small pouches.

The four of them were merchants.

Not powerful merchants.

Not influential merchants.

Just ordinary merchants who bought and sold whatever could make them profit and keep them alive.

That was why they had survived for so long.

They knew when to speak, when to stay silent, and when to pretend that they saw nothing.

And it was this experience and knowledge that made them not to speak or confront Simon and his friends despite knowing that he was looking in their direction.

Brukk glanced at the stairs, then lowered his voice.

"Are you sure? The way that demon looked at you did not seem like a stranger’s gaze."

Mira frowned.

"I said I don’t know him."

Her voice was calm, but there was a slight uncertainty hidden beneath it.

She truly did not know him.

At least, she believed she did not.

The demon being carried on the back of the male demon had been covered with a dark cloak, and his face was only slightly visible beneath the hood.

The only reason why she even saw his face was because he had been looking at her and because he was not trying to perfectly hide his face.

His condition was bad from the little she saw, and he looked like he had been dragged out of a battlefield.

But his eyes...

For some reason, Mira could not easily forget his eyes.

They were tired, cold, calculating, and filled with an indifferece that sent a chill across her spine.

But when his gaze landed on her, there was something else in them for a brief moment.

Recognition.

Or maybe she was imagining things.

Devia tapped her fingers on the table softly.

"I wonder why that demon that was being carried was looking at you. Did you sense their auras? Three Archfiends, and two are Supreme Archfiends."

The group became quiet and wary.

They were all Archfiends, but Mira, Devia, and Brukk were only Minor Archfiends.

Orven was the strongest, but he was only a Prime Archfiend.

Devia looked at Mira whose expression was dark, and she tried to lighten up the atmosphere.

"Maybe that injured demon has taken a liking to you. Who knows, he might be a rich prince of a kingdom or the young master of a clan."

Brukk also smirked at Devia’s words.

"Devia is right. Your life might actually become better from now on."

Mira gave Devia and Brukk a cold glare, causing both of them to shut up with amused expressions.

"You guys are taking this too lightly. Those three are not simple."

Orven nodded, and his next words surprised them.

"Mira is right. The big one is a Martial Demon."

Brukk’s yellow eyes widened slightly.

"A Martial Demon? Are you sure?"

Orven glanced at him.

"I was lucky enough to see the tattoos on his face. I might not be a scholar, but I’m not blind. I know a Martial Demon when I see one."

Brukk’s eyes widened the more.

"What the hell is a Martial Demon doing here?"

Devia ignored both of them and looked toward the stairs.

"And the short demoness?"

Orven’s expression became more serious.

"I believe she’s a Kragh. When she looked around, I saw her eyes. They were blind, but she was walking like she could see."

Orven was the most observant out of them all, and he was also the most knowledgeable.

If not for him, they would have believed that Simon, Akaza, and Sonya were average demons.

This time around, even Mira’s expression changed slightly.

A Martial Demon and a Kragh.

Those were not races ordinary demons like them could afford to offend.

Their bloodlines alone placed them far above merchants like them.

Brukk swallowed softly.

"Why would a Martial Demon and a Kragh be here? In Vashar of all places?"

Nobody answered.

Because none of them knew.

Vashar City was not a terrible place, but it was not special either. It was a normal city where merchants passed through, hunters sold beast corpses, small gangs fought over alleys, and ordinary demons tried to survive.

It was not the kind of place where high-ranking races appeared casually.

And even if they did appear, they usually came with guards, carriages, or arrogance.

Those three had none of that.

They were injured.

Exhausted.

And the one being carried looked like he might die at any moment.

Mira looked down at her cup.

"Whatever their reason is, it has nothing to do with us. Let’s just focus on what we came here to do."

Mira drank from her cup, then she placed it back on the table.

"Make money."

Devia, Brukk, and Orven nodded in agreement.