The fourth Initiate was a demoness.
Simon could tell from the body shape despite the loose robe.
Compared to the serpentkin, her breasts and ass were larger.
She stood with one hand resting against her waist while the other lazily spun a dagger between her fingers beneath the sleeve.
The dagger moved between her fingers and wrist at an extremely fast speed, and Simon noticed the movement only because he was focusing.
Her mask was dark red and shaped like a simplified fox face with sharp eyes and thin black markings near the edges.
The moment Simon looked at her, she looked back immediately.
She was the first one among them to look at him which meant she was more perceptive than the rest or the others had noticed him but did not bother to look at him.
’A Feralis.’
A beast-type demon race.
Unlike Varkhuls who focused on overwhelming strength, Feralis demons specialized in speed, agility, and explosive bursts of power. Most possessed enhanced instincts and terrifying close combat ability.
Then finally...
The last Initiate.
At first glance, the demon looked ordinary.
Average height.
Average build.
No visible weapons.
No visible muscles.
Nothing memorable.
But Simon found himself staring at this demon the most.
The demon’s mask was grey with several uneven cracks running across it.
One eye hole slightly larger than the other.
The mask looked ugly, crooked, and almost broken.
The demon stood completely still with both hands hidden inside the sleeves of the robe.
No aura leaked out.
No hostility either.
And that alone was enough to make Simon cautious.
’Wraithkin.’
A race that Simon found very irritating to deal with in his past life.
Not because of raw combat power.
But because Wraithkins used mental techniques. They were one of the races he hated fighting in his past life.
Wraithkins were mainly meant to support their teammates and control the flow of a battle, and with their mental capabilities, they could do their jobs with ease.
Wraithkins were the type of demons that stayed behind while the others cornered their target.
Simon’s gaze swept across the five once more.
’The Varkhul is basically the tank and also a damage dealer. The Shadeborn is the assassin. The Feralis is probably the scout. The Serpentkin is also an assassin, and the Wraithkin is more like a mage... A mind mage to be exact.’
’This is a team that’s meant to counter me.’
Simon could already envision how a battle with the five Initiates would play out.
The Varkhul was meant to handle his abnormal physical strength as a Fiend.
The Serpentkin was meant to deal with any poison he uses.
The Shadeborn was a very good candidate to assassinate him.
In terms of speed and reflexes, the Feralis could match him to a certain extent... at least that was what Caesar and his colleagues believed.
As for the Wraithkin... it was there to deal with his mental techniques.
The team and their abilities might have been a coincidence, but considering the fact that Caesar was involved...
Simon doubted that it was a coincidence.
’And very few teams would want a Wraithkin in their team because they can be a burden when they run low on mental energy, and if they turn on their teammates, they might not be able to defeat him because of the mental techniques.’
Simon paused his thoughts for a moment, then his lips curled into a smile.
’If this is how you want to play it, no problem Caesar. Let’s see what you have in store for me.’
He slowly walked toward them.
The moment he entered within twenty meters of the group, all five turned toward him at once.
Not one second slower than the others.
Like they had practiced it beforehand.
Silence descended immediately.
Simon stopped a few meters away from them.
None of the five spoke immediately.
The atmosphere was strangely heavy despite the fact that none of them were releasing their auras.
The Varkhul remained motionless like a statue.
The Shadeborn stood with his hands inside his sleeves while the calm smile on his wooden mask remained unnaturally fixed.
The Serpentkin lazily observed Simon from head to toe without even trying to hide it.
As for the Wraithkin...
Simon could not even tell where the demon was looking.
Only the Feralis moved
The dagger spinning between her fingers suddenly disappeared into her sleeve.
Then she tilted her head slightly.
"So you’re the famous Broken Halo. I thought you’d have two heads and six arms with all the stories I’ve heard about you." She chuckled softly, but none of her teammates laughed at her joke.
She turned and looked at her teammates with narrowed eyes.
"You guys are no fun at all. Laugh at my fucking jokes."
Simon raised a brow when he saw this.
Meanwhile, the Serpentkin hissed before speaking.
"We obviously don’t laugh because your jokes are boring, cap."
The eyes of the Feralis twitched.
"You guys don’t just have a sense of humor." She said.
"No, captain. Your jokes are actually terrible and not funny at all." The Shadeborn spoke, and surprisingly his voice was gentle.
But this somehow made it more unsettling.
"Noctis, you better shut your damned mouth. You’re the worst of all when it comes to sense of humor." The Felaris glared at the Shadeborn whose title was Noctis.
"It’s not my fault that your jokes are terrible." Noctis nonchalantly shrugged
And the Serpentkin chuckled, her tongue flickering in the air a few times before she finally spoke.
"Now, that was funny, cap."
Feralis gritted her teeth, then she closed her eyes and released a deep breath.
"You’ll regret your words, Noctis and Silith."
Noctis and Silith looked at one another then they nonchalantly shrugged.
As for Simon, he had a completely strange expression as he watched this scene play out.
What was going on?
Why were they so carefree?
Shouldn’t they be cold to him?
Had he somehow met with the wrong team?
He decided to ask.
"Are you guys really my teammates for the mission Instructor Valdin told me about?"