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In a matter of a dozen seconds, a disgusting red sphere floated next to Desmond, who completely forgot that he had yet to dispose of the remains somehow.

Desmond did not want to dwell on the matter too much and called a couple of maids to help him with the remains and corpses. To his own surprise, the maids seemed quite comfortable with the task, which saved Desmond a lot of trouble.

But the matter was far from over, Desmond knew; this was at best the first in a relentless barrage of attacks. As if that wasn’t enough, Desmond had another problem; his armor.

Desmond had been hit at least three times during the previous exchange, and contrary to usual, all attacks passed through his armor’s defense with relative ease.

This prompted Desmond to do something he usually neglected; use the analysis function of the hunter’s book. Originally the hunter’s book was intended to be an auxiliary tool that hunters primarily used for information and storage.

But Desmond tended to overlook the analysis function due to some incidents he had in the past where the information provided by the notebook was insufficient, leading Desmond to act on misconceptions that put his life in danger.

After talking about it with Elaisa, she mentioned that this was, in fact, a relatively common problem; at the end of the day, the notebook was an auxiliary tool, and it was best not to try to depend too much on it.

But seeing the Analysis screen, Desmond had to admit that perhaps he had wasted too much of the feature.

.....

Desmond even wondered if there was some kind of mistake, but no matter how much he stared at the holographic display, the words didn’t change; This didn’t help Desmond much.

“What the hell, these pieces of garbage bring better weapons than mine.”

Desmond’s complaints weren’t unfounded; after all, the assassins he fought were hardly a match for him, yet they carried weaponry several levels above his own.

The same applied to the armor Desmond analyzed later, these were of the same level and class as the weapons wielded by the assassins. It wasn’t until Desmond took a closer look at Analysis’s description that he had a bloody idea what was going on.

Things like high-quality materials and high-level craftsmanship were enough to give Desmond an idea of ??what was going on; ironically, this was somewhat related to Desmond’s first impression of the warriors of this world.

They were weak or, more precisely speaking, they lacked skill. Relying only on an enormous amount of mana and brute force, the warriors of this world were miles apart from the martial artist’s Desmond met in Mei’s world.

But that in no way meant that people in this world were harmless, and instead, it was more accurate to say that people in this world pursued the force by different means and reasons.

Unlike the sovereign martial world, in Serefía, the force was only a means to an end and not the end itself, so the search for power and its paths were inevitably different.

While in Mei Fei Long’s world, strength and supreme prowess were revered, in Serefie’s world, it was status that mattered most, and strength was just a tool to achieve it.

This led to a fundamental difference in their training systems and techniques, with Serefia being a world with more abundant resources and a slightly more advanced civilization; it was natural to possess high-level weaponry and artifacts in this world.

This was counterintuitive for people in the sovereign martial world who tried not to rely on auxiliary means to possess power. Of course, this also meant that martial arts and skills were of much higher levels and quality in the sovereign martial world.

Whatever the case, Desmond now found himself in the painful position where mere disposable pawns came better armed than him; this was the equivalent of attending a shootout with a knife in hand.

Desmond was the winner of the previous match because his enemies were incompetent even in the use of guns, so Desmond was able to crush them with just a simple knife, In a figurative sense.

“Hell, even in this place, I’m reminded of how poor I am... Well, not that it matters much; for now, I should focus on that little canary that came out to sing a few hours ago. Though I have a feeling, Cecilia will get in my way.”

Already having an idea of ??Cecilia’s personality, Desmond guessed that she would disapprove of his usual means, so Desmond would have to adjust his modus operandi for interrogations.

Just in the corner of his field of vision, Desmond’s eyes focused on one of the maids helping with the cleaning; Desmond quickly grabbed her wrist and dragged her into his room.

Nana was shocked when caught off guard, only to be swept away with no further questions. Still, to her surprise, despite how aggressive Desmond’s behavior seemed on the outside, a thin layer of water mana coated the hand of the man holding her wrist, making sure she didn’t get hurt.

This small detail was not overlooked by Nana, who was used to reading people to survive, but because of this, Nana was confused. For her, Desmond was too easy to read, but at the same time, all she saw in him was strange and contradictory.

Unaware of the young maiden’s complicated thoughts, Desmond dragged her into his room, where he made her sit on an easy chair before releasing her.

“May I know what the meaning of this is?” No matter how good an impression Desmond made on Nana, she still wasn’t happy about being dragged away so roughly.

On the other hand, Desmond was trying to organize his thoughts, being used to giving the orders and being the one in charge; Desmond had a hard time talking to a girl whose allegiance was unshakably tied to someone like Cecilia.

After a few seconds of silence, Desmond realized, to his great regret, that no matter how many times he thought about it, the best plan so far was just to be honest: “Your name is Nana, isn’t it? I am very sorry for my manners, but I find myself in a bit of a dilemma; You see, I’m not very good at keeping others safe.”

Desmond’s apology seemed sincere, or so Nana thought, but his following statement only left her confused. Though remembering the trail of broken corpses that Desmond left in his wake, Nana had to admit that he seemed more skilled at hurting others than protecting them.

Looking at the understanding expression on Nana’s face, Desmond sighed softly. He continued, “Right now, my task is to protect your mistress, Holy Priestess Cecilia, and for that, I need to know more about her, understand her better so that I can better serve her.”

Desmond’s words did nothing but raise Nana’s guard, who had gone to great lengths to protect her mistress’s secrets. Nana had heard similar phrases in the past, and they all came from people who were just trying to extract information from her, so Desmond’s words were no different than raising a red flag.

Still, Nana decided to test Desmond based solely on Cecilia’s words: “How can I be sure you’re not after Cecilia’s secrets?”

Noticing all the signs of caution in Nana’s verbal and body language, Desmond smiled wryly before his expression immediately turned solemn. His tone of voice was somber: “In that case, don’t tell me anything you think should be kept secret. and just advise me on how to handle certain issues; that way, you can protect both the secrets and the heart of your mistress.”

Desmond’s words were eloquent and reassured all of Nana’s concerns while showing Desmond’s intention to show respect both for the girl’s opinion and for Cecilia’s feelings and secrets, so Nana was delighted.

“I see; I have no problem if this brings peace and security to Cecilia... she deserves it.”

Nana’s last words had deep affection and sadness in them, an intention to protect something precious and delicate despite her helplessness; Desmond could relate to this emotion.

Immediately Desmond’s impression of the dainty little frail-looking servant greatly improved. No matter how helpless and powerless Nana might be over her current situation, she never left Cecilia’s side. Desmond could see that Cecilia greatly appreciated her even when her interactions had been limited.

Many would say that it’s useless to want to protect something when you don’t have the strength to do so, and Desmond would agree. But at the same time, Desmond thought that as useless as this was, it was still incomparably noble, something that even a pragmatist like him would respect.