Durin's Diary

When he opened his eyes again, it was already broad daylight, and Durin yawned—someone had come to the manor in the middle of the night to find Old Yishu. There were more than a dozen people, making noise for most of the night, and Durin had no idea what they were fussing about, which resulted in him not sleeping well.

After getting dressed, Durin opened the window. Hemo, who had spent the night outside, was already waiting by the window by the time Durin woke up. As soon as the window opened, she immediately jumped into the room, cooed at her master, then strutted to the desk, flapping her wings to hop onto the bird stand.

You can't stand the smoke-filled first floor either, can you?

Durin smiled as he petted her head, then left the room.

The door to Anta's room was still closed. This girl must still be in meditation, and considering last night's situation, she should have used a Silent Barrier. Unless Durin entered the room, he definitely couldn't wake her up.

So Durin went to the stairs leading to the first-floor living room alone, and just happened to see more than a dozen young masters gathered in the central living room, the tea table's ashtrays brimming with cigarette butts.

The entire living room was filled with the smell of smoke, and Durin could even hear Xialu in the kitchen sneezing.

"Grandfather, what happened?" Durin asked looking at Old Yishu.

His grandfather didn't answer but looked toward the elder seated in the main seat.

The latter smiled, "Klein Salik, he claims our testimonies are false. The men sent out found the location the witness mentioned, but were unable to stop all the convoys. Only three families were saved; the rest were either killed or disappeared. He has informants in the town."

With that, the elder sighed, "Now, the humans on the other side refuse to agree to a lie detection."

"That's perfect proof he's got something to hide! If you ask me, we should take action! Slaughter the entire household of Klein Salik!" said the strange middle-aged human with a bald head, wearing the robes of the Church of the Dual Mothers.

"But, our lord has said that unless there's conclusive evidence, we cannot force lie detection on anyone," retorted another figure, an elderly Grassland Elf dressed in the robes of the Church of the Original Creator.

Durin felt embarrassed—aren't the two of you wearing the wrong robes?

Durin had never before found the statements of these two bishops as absurd as he did today.

So Durin decided. He cleared his throat lightly, his lips parting slightly, "Gentlemen, have you found his informant?"

Everyone looked at him; finally, Old Hammer spoke up, "We found him, beaten all through the night, but he didn't say a word."

"Loyalty is a virtue. What about his family?" Durin continued.

This time, everyone looked at Old Yishu, and Durin's grandfather sighed, "Durin, we are butchers..."

Durin smiled, a bit shy, but the words he spoke next were ruthlessly straightforward, "Yes, Grandfather, we are butchers. We shouldn't act like lunatics and deranged killers, but there are always some in this world who push good people to the brink of madness. Love and hate are relative. Our survivors chose to serve us, but we couldn't protect their families. For such scum, we should not be gentlemen. So, Grandfather, who is he, and where is his family?"

Durin knew that his grandfather was a Magician with Silver Dragon blood, naturally a kind soul, while Durin himself never considered himself a good person, even though he always targeted bad people.

But killing is killing. In Durin's eyes, killing bad people is just to make oneself feel better and to justify taking money with a clear conscience.

An assassin can lack professional ethics, but must always have self-awareness—knowing what one truly is and never be blinded by empty notions of promoting good and punishing evil.

We are assassins, not police, not judges. It is precisely because of this we can abandon those pedantic notions and achieve clarity of thought, indifferent to the mass of lives we take.

"Durin..." "Enough, Yishu. Your grandson is not wrong. Our gentleness to his family is too cruel to those who trusted us, to the trafficked ancestors and our poor children. Child, let's go to the police station. Yishu, you go bring the individuals to the underground prison."

The old man wearing a Thorn Ring on his left hand stood up. He must be one of the real leaders of the Eastern Elven Territory, an elder of the Eleven-Person Council.

And so, Durin followed.

Before climbing onto the four-wheel drive motorcycle following the elder, the old man suddenly turned his head to look at Durin.

"Have you ever killed anyone, child?"

Durin was startled, then smiled, somewhat shyly.

Yes, indeed, many, many times.

In my past life, I stood amidst the blood of friends and foes, witnessing the rise and fall of life over a century.

......

Durin met the man in the underground prison of Lublin City—through the thick bars of the room, he observed the man separated by the bars.

He was battered and bruised but had still not spoken. Being obstinate, refusing to talk, is in any case a virtue because keeping silent is a precious trait for anyone.

However, Durin had had a conversation with the elder before coming in.

"We've figured out their means of communication, and luckily, from the day we cracked down on human traffickers, we issued a clearing order. Any pigeons in the Lublin area would be killed the moment they took flight. This man was caught yesterday midnight during the message delivery, his pigeon intercepted. When we went to arrest him, this family was already preparing to leave in a carriage, and we've detained his wife and children elsewhere."

Durin felt sad that they had almost escaped. Doing such things requires feeding one's conscience to the dogs, regardless of right or wrong, and this man had not done so, but the Grassland Elves now had Durin, whose conscience in this matter had long been fed to the dogs.

Therefore, lack of smaller mercies could disrupt greater plans; he was destined to fail.

"Have you thought it through?" Durin asked.

The man in front of him snorted coldly, then spat a mouthful of blood-filled phlegm over.

Durin did not dodge. Since he had done something so extreme, it was only fair to let the man vent, otherwise, what followed would be too unfair for him.

So Durin took the handkerchief passed to him by his deputy, wiped the dirt off his shoes that Anta had given him, then turned his head towards the door. "Please let the guests in."

When his wife and three children were brought in, the man shackled by the neck roared and lunged forward, but the special steel bars of the Grassland Elves' prison, as thick as an orc's thumb, naturally blocked his way.

Durin extended his hand, and a jailer in a black robe handed him a whip.

Durin smiled, shaking his head. See, this is not heart-to-heart understanding. If Anta were here, she would have handed over a gun.

She would not understand Durin, but she would certainly carry out his thoughts.

Well, it doesn't matter.

The Mage Hand took down a short knife from the rack on the wall, and Durin walked to within a hand's reach of the bars. "You are a spy for Klein Salik, to put the Grassland Elves at ease, you took a wife and had children here, in Lublin Town for a full eleven years, every year providing cover for that caravan, offering intelligence, the harvest festival, my grandfather was present every year, so your dealings in Lublin were just very ordinary trade, but if it weren't for the attack on me, my grandfather would probably still be in the capital."

As he said this, Durin looked again toward the jailer, who this time finally complied with Durin's wishes and pushed over a chair.

Durin sat down and looked at the man in front of him who was breathing heavily, staring fixatedly at him.

"Eleven years, you thought the chance had come, so you got in touch with the caravan to kidnap children. You made contact with quite a few children, and you helped pick the targets. In these days in Lublin, you knew which children were naive and gullible. But who could have expected the unforeseen? You suddenly discovered the caravan's wicked deeds were exposed, so on the day I was interrogating those few survivors, you watched from a distance, ready to inform your master after noticing something amiss." These were all deductions confirmed by Durin.

While there may be differences in the process, the outcome was consistent.

"Reveal all the secrets between you and your master, and your wife and children will be spared from suffering," Durin said, leaning back in his chair.