Talent Awakening: I, the Weakest Awakened, Start with Dragonfire Spell

Having never truly crossed swords with either Antalya or Red Eye, Howard found it difficult to compare their strengths and weaknesses directly.

Yet, it was undeniably clear that any one of them could easily overpower him.

Despite this realization, Howard could still draw some vague conclusions.

Specifically, in terms of speed and reaction, the individual known as "Windwolf," Sorovo, might not be unworthy of his moniker.

"I noticed your reaction just now was quite impressive, and your mana capacity is not low. Are you a magus? At the preparatory level? Or are you certified?"

Sorovo's voice had a distinctive quality, slightly hoarse with an undertone that was almost metallically resonant.

Howard looked up at Sorovo, then glanced back at the other two knights behind him.

Although they were not certified maguses, their strength surpassed that of most preparatory-level maguses.

In the New World, the status of a knight held different implications compared to within the empire's regions.

Howard was primarily captured because of Sorovo, but these two had also played a significant role.

"Who exactly are you?" Howard's first words in this scenario were feigned ignorance.

Observing Howard's act of playing dumb, Sorovo paused for a few seconds, then cracked a smile, picking up a short dagger from the ground that resembled a silver fish, gripping the handle firmly.

"Did you know, before I became a magus, back when I was just a grunt, I was specifically tasked with executions and dirty work?"

Sorovo's fingers moved with agility, and thus the silver fish seemed to come alive in his grasp.

As Sorovo manipulated the dagger, allowing it to roll and flip under his control, the blade gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight.

The tip traced arcs in the air—some full and robust, others sharp and stiff.

Amidst this display, a smile unexpectedly appeared on Howard's face.

"Do you think such a display will frighten me?"

Sorovo's gaze remained fixed on Howard, who, showing no sign of backing down, met his stare without flinching.

After a moment that lasted two breaths, Sorovo stood up, casually placing the silver fish dagger upright on the table and gestured with his hand.

"Release him." He didn't see fear in Howard's eyes.

No matter how tough one might be, it's nearly impossible to completely control one's emotions.

A momentary falter, perhaps insignificant in terms of attitude, often served as Sorovo's usual breakthrough.

He hadn't intimidated Howard.

Before becoming a level 3 magus, Sorovo indeed was an executioner, and not just any executioner, but a veteran at that.

He had served as an executioner for seven or eight years, breaking more than a dozen so-called tough guys under his hand.

Yet, he had never encountered an anomaly like Howard.

If Sorovo were to choose an adjective to describe Howard, it would likely be 'wooden'.

You can't execute a piece of wood because it would be meaningless.

"Speak, who exactly are you? A minion of Red Eye? Or a traitor to Red Eye?"

Sorovo took a seat at the edge of the table, leaving only the Three Knights and Howard in the room.

"Neither," Howard replied, stretching his wrists as he stood up, reaching for his twin blades propped nearby.

However, a hand blocked his motion.

Following the arm to its owner, Howard's eyes landed on the youngest of the Three Knights, whose eyes resembled those of a Persian Cat.

Howard silently dubbed him Persian Cat in his mind.

"Answer the question." Persian Cat's voice wasn't deep but carried a clear, crisp tone.

Howard guessed that this fellow must be quite popular in Breeze City.

"Didn't I just say it? Neither," Howard replied with a smile.

"Our purposes align; our blades are pointed at the same target. I won't draw my sword against you until Red Eye is dead."

"The same target?" Sorovo scoffed.

"I won't reveal more until you trust me.

But there's one thing I want you to know," Howard said, his face still adorned with that artisanal smile.

"Harry is not to be trusted."

This light statement didn't seem to have any effect, only serving to deepen the cold smirk on Sorovo's face.

"You say Harry can't be trusted, but should you be trusted any more than him?"

Sorovo's gaze shifted between the flipping dagger in his hand and Howard's face, the cold smirk unwavering.

"A man of unknown origin and unclear intentions expects us to turn against the local power based on a few empty words... Don't you think you're being overly optimistic?"

"Whether I'm being optimistic, I don't know, but I'm sure you've been indulging in wishful thinking," Howard said, pulling up a stool to sit directly opposite Sorovo.

He rubbed his face, molding a smile with his fingers.

"Are you still fantasizing about ambushing Red Eye during negotiations? Do you really think someone as cunning as Red Eye would fall for such an obvious trap? You don't even know the location or the exact time of the negotiations, how are you planning to set up an ambush? Red Eye is insidious and ruthless; haven't you considered that among the four people at the meeting earlier, some could have been bought off or controlled by him? You've been in Lorinda for three days now; have you deciphered Red Eye's real intentions?"

A barrage of seemingly unrelated questions, but when connected to Red Eye, they form a chain, each link interlocking with the next.

Should any link break, the entire game is lost.

In the beginning, Sorovo showed little reaction to the first few questions.

However, as Howard spoke more, Sorovo's expression grew increasingly grim.

"You're not someone adept at strategy, so why engage in a battle of wits?" Howard's tone carried a hint of disdain.

"Ha, you're right. I'm indeed not fond of strategy; that's a pastime for those noble lords. I only trust the blade in my hand."

The silver fish dagger's movements accelerated, blurring into a shimmering ball of light, yet Sorovo's face reverted to a cold smirk.

"I might not know the answers to those questions you posed earlier, but there's only one thing I need to know."

"Knowing this one thing will solve everything." Sorovo's voice was filled with conviction, leaving Howard scratching his face, wondering where Sorovo's confidence stemmed from.

"What's this miraculous solution that can unravel so many problems?" Howard inquired.

"It's simple." Sorovo leaned forward, closing the distance to Howard's face, "Just ask!"

"Ask those who know."

"One by one, someone will speak up."

He straightened up abruptly, his gaze landing on Persian Cat.

The rugged, bearded face conveyed an indescribable solemnity, as if the next words to be spoken could cast a spell to change the world: "Sedra!"

So, Persian Cat's name was Sedra.

Howard scratched his face, noting the name.

"Yes, my lord! What are your commands?"

Persian Cat stood at attention, his right fist striking his chest armor, causing a clattering sound, and gave Sorovo a knightly salute.

"Inform the quartet to investigate all personnel movements in Lorinda over the past three months. Assemble everyone, groups of three, to scour every sparsely populated area of Lorinda, including the woods outside the gathering places, to investigate all strangers and newcomers!"

It was a crude method, but an effective one.

Even if it wouldn't directly uncover Red Eye's hideout, it would disrupt the execution of his plans and increase the chances of exposing his flaws.

Lorinda was merely a settlement of a few thousand people, where neighbors, if not friends, were at least familiar faces to each other, making strangers stand out conspicuously.

Persian Cat turned and left.

Howard shook his head, still unable to associate the name Sedra with the young knight's face.

"So, this is your response? Aren't you afraid that those you send out will be killed by Red Eye? Lorinda isn't like Breeze City; reactions here are painfully slow."

He thought about the four people who had been trailing him, wondering when their bodies would be discovered.

It shouldn't take too long, he presumed.

Although the place didn't seem frequently visited, with four people and so many open wounds, the strong scent of blood would surely attract attention soon enough.

A small place, unaccustomed to incidents, suddenly becoming a hotspot for major news was precisely the kind of scenario adventurers loved.

Whether Harry liked it or not, hiring adventurers and beefing up defenses would soon be on the agenda for the quartet's meeting.

"By the way, there's something else I want to ask you."

Howard abruptly moved forward, his hand pressing down on the spinning dagger, his face adorned with a faint smile as a silvery light slowly radiated from the depths of his eyes.

"Do you know about the Old Nobles?"

...

The prearranged meeting point in Antalya was an abandoned shack, nestled at the end of a desolate street.

Its decrepit state, untouched by repair for years, rendered its collapse an unsurprising eventuality.

Ali, evading the scrutiny of passersby, ascended to the rooftop and slipped into the dilapidated structure.

Antalya was already awaiting his arrival within.

"You're tardy in your movements. Where's Jelia?"

Antalya's voice retained its customary chill, reminiscent of synthesized tones devoid of organic warmth.

Ali brushed aside the cobwebs clinging to his shoulders as he responded, "I sent her back to the inn.

As long as her half-orc identity remains concealed, none will pay heed to such a minor presence."

"I've acquired news of Howard from Jelia," Antalya stated.