Jillian made a mental note about, and found it interesting that Hazzergash – and, presumably, the other demon lords as well – did not act under the directive of the Grand Master and instead pursued their own goals with their own methods. Of course, she imagined that the entity before them could, if the need would arise, give a direct order to one of his subjects but ordinarily, as it would appear, they were left to their own devices. Just like the Rodorian duchies schemed and bickered between one another even when there was still a king on the throne; now that he was gone, it had only become worse. Considering that Gerald’s and her future seemed heavily intertwined with demonkind, it felt noteworthy that they might be able to play the demon lords out against one another, as humans liked to do. And speaking of Hazzergash, Jillian was reminded of the fact that she and Gerald had promised to banish him in the near future. Was the Grand Master aware of this as well? She felt as if that should have some impact on their dealings, considering that they were striking a mortal blow against one of his allies. Perhaps the term ally was even more loosely defined amongst demons than she had first assumed, for the way that the Grand Master just talked about Hazzergash, it sounded as if he hardly wanted to be associated with the latter. He might not even care about Hazzergash’s fate. They really were an amalgamate of purely selfish creatures, bound together by necessity instead of sentiment, were they not?

“Yes, you are rather insightful for a mortal,” the Grand Master surprisingly praised Jillian in response to her rejection of making an offering to him and why. He then specifically explained the difference between himself and Kreshtaat, and the witch could not get rid of the impression that the demon before her was not at all an abstract concept of evil, too powerful and enigmatic to ever comprehend; no, quite the contrary, she found that he sounded more and more like merely a very nasty man, drunk with his own power. And being one such, he would not be the first she would have come across, for he embodied very human sentiments that were all too common in this world.

Still, he insisted that his knowledge was too valuable to give away freely. _Why?_ she thought. They had already established that he could only gain by them possessing this knowledge, and he had absolutely nothing to lose; sharing his secret with them would not rob him of the knowledge, or force him to give anything up. Why be so insistent on getting something? And what could they offer anyway? Jillian, for her part, had lost practically everything she had ever possessed in a matter of days, and not even the clothes she wore at the time, if they could be called that, were technically her own. What else could she offer? Her soul? Some kind of favor? That would only lead to more and more  debate, which she was not looking forward to.

Of course, the Grand Master had a point insofar that the odds were not in the two exiles’ favor. They had proven that they were indeed capable of some amazing feats, but they were nonetheless only two mortals, and a long shot from being exemplary representatives of their kind. Realistically, they simply would not defeat a demon like Hymith in open confrontation. If they were to stand any chance, they would have to rely on intrigue and wit, and even then fortune would need to favor them. Still, they did not truly know who they would have to face – Hymith was only a good guess, after all. What if the truth was even more horrifying, even more implausible to ever have a favorable outcome? If it was so hopeless that they would not even attempt to stop the demon? The irony of it, if they were to give something up for knowledge that they would ultimately not even act upon. Yet this thought gave her an idea.

“That’s true, they’re most likely not, but to be honest, we do not know what the odds are since you’re too greedy to tell us whom we’re even talking about. I make you a proposition, if you’ll indulge me,” she replied, her left hand against her hip while gesturing with the other, “As I see it, the information we’re talking about consists of two parts: the identity of whomever is causing the Withering, and the whereabouts of them. How about you give us the identity for free so that at least we know whom we’re dealing with, and then Gerald and I can decide if we feel there is a point to even finding out where they are. If yes, then we’ll give you something for the second part of your little secret, even if I can’t imagine what you could even want from us. So, sounds fair?”