Viessa’s mood soured for reasons known only to her as we continued our trek through the slums, looking for Veeyar Street. The relentless downpour turned the roads to mud and shrouded our surroundings in a haze, offering decent cover for our movements. Personally, I loved the dreary atmosphere, and the cool kiss of fresh raindrops slipping under my mask.
I hadn't spotted a single royal guard since we crossed through Thunder Fang's old turf. Karma's Gaze lit up with the occasional status belonging to the destitute, who stayed hidden, taking refuge in partially demolished buildings. For every block still standing, there were five leveled to the ground. It seemed like no one dared to walk the streets at night unless they were gang affiliated.
Skurt's directions came in handy as I recognized a sprawling, broken fountain that stood in the center of an abandoned plaza. Once, it must have been a striking landmark, crowned by a grand statue standing over the fountain. Now, all that remained of it were a pair of stone boots, with jagged shards of rock jutting out from the ankles and a cracked basin with water trickling through its holes.
“We're getting close,” I said, sensing the elf's disdain as she processed my voice.
Why is she so pissed?
I didn't force her to end Gordon's life. But she was still glaring at me from behind her goofy cowl, ruining my jovial spirit.
I stopped and opened my arms. “What's the problem?”
“You brought your weapons,” Viessa said.
“Yeah, so?”
“Then why did you shove your hand through that human's head? You could've given them all instant, painless deaths.” Viessa shuddered. “It was disgusting.”
“Did you see their expressions when his head popped?” I asked. “Killing them isn't punishment enough. They should at least experience some of the fear they've inflicted on others throughout their life. The sense of terror as their lives flash before their eyes... That's when they realize their own actions led them there. It's justice in its purest form.”
Viessa massaged her temples. “Your soul is tainted. I doubt even the high priestess could cleanse it.”
“Fair point, it always has been.”
“I'll pray for you,” Viessa muttered.
Good, I need it.
The northwest side of Oarwin reminded me of bombed out Dresden from the history books. Only a handful of buildings remained, none intact. I diligently checked our six every few seconds as we drew closer toward Veeyar Street. Coda should've already made it back by now and informed the syndicate of the situation.
We reached an intersection wedged between a leaning sundial tower missing its face and the charred frame of a wooden building. I recognized the landmark from Skurt's description, which meant our destination was only a right turn away. As we crossed through the plaza, I spotted Veeyar Street,
Veeyar Street wasn't much of a street. More like a muddy trench that curved north until it stopped at a gate. There was a clearing on both sides, where it looked like rows of old buildings had been torn down.
A vast compound lay beyond the end of the street, cordoned off by an iron gate. I counted two single story structures, one on each side of an impressive two-story mansion in the compound's center. The construction looked fairly recent, which heavily contrasted with the rest of Oarwin. Throughout the courtyard, brick columns hosted spherical, covered fire pits. Bright flames illuminated the space, revealing guards patrolling in the distance.
“I don't understand any of this. You said you were an adventurer,” Viessa whispered.
“I am. This is training.”
“Nobody trains by dressing up like an assassin and killing random humans.”
“Even if I explained everything, you wouldn't believe me,” I said.
Besides, I tried once before and she called me blasphemous…
I glanced over my shoulder and Karma's Gaze picked up what my eyes couldn't.
Target: Dresdok
Level: 6
Karma: -1515
Additional Data: Rank seven of The Sanguine Syndicate. Age 39. Male. The newest member among the syndicate's top 10. Has an undying thirst to prove himself. Intentionally broke his big toe when he was 15 to skip a military march.
Would you like more data? Y/N
His status text hung in the air above the clock tower as I tried pinpointing his location through fierce rainfall. Then I saw it. He was lying flat on his stomach, watching between a loose brick atop the roofless clock tower.
Yes, more data please.
Bonus Data: Murdered the previous rank seven member for his spot. Despises olive cake. Kicks puppies.
Dresdok stood up as he realized I was blankly staring in his direction, completely unaware that I was merely reading fun facts about his life. He wore a dark scarf and a matching, loosely fitted jacket over a set of light armor that glinted as lightning flashed, casting an eerie glow across the clouds.
“None of the others expected you to have the audacity to show up here. Lucky, lucky," Dresdok shouted from above. "This will be great for my ranking. And there's two of you! Coda only mentioned one killer.”
As Dresdok rambled on, I activated Shadow Weave and curved my finger, pulling at the ample darkness surrounding the tower. I rolled my fingertips across my thumb, amassing shadows in the distance, slowly shaping them into a crudely-shaped scythe that extended up and out from the tower's roof, creeping behind Dresdok.
“I'll show you such unfathomable pain," Dresdok snarled, looking like he was about to swan dive off the tower with a sword in hand.
I swiped my finger to the side, and the shadow scythe swooped downward at an awkward angle. It arced through Dresdok's waist. He wobbled, cheeks bulging as his mouth dropped open, flabbergasted by what had just transpired. His bottom half stayed up on the tower while his top half careened off.
Viessa covered her eyes as half of Dresdok went splat, the muddied ground not doing near enough to break his fall.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you he kicked puppies?”
+400 XP
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
+125 Karma
Killing Dresdok with Shadow Weave unveiled several unknowns. I quickly discovered that the more intricate the shapes I conjured, the greater the toll it took on my stamina. Attacking from such a distance also felt clumsy, and I doubted the same move would work on someone less absorbed in smelling their own farts. I intended on stylishly decapitating him, but the slashing motion unintentionally went wide. One thing was certain: I needed a lot more practice.
“I've never seen or heard of such horrific magic,” Viessa remarked, her disgust mingling with reluctant fascination.
Thunder crackled, and the downpour continued, swirling blood at my feet as I approached Dresdok's body and cut-off his flattened head.
Viessa dry heaved as I carried Dresdok's skull along by a tuft of his hair, forcing it into my cloth sack of combat supplies.
“None of the guards are strong enough to pose a threat. But I can't guarantee your safety once we're inside. Maybe you should wait here.”
She mulled over the free out as we drew in on the eight-foot tall iron gate. “Have these people trespassed against you?”
“Not personally. But they are oppressors. Predators that siphon off society's most vulnerable until there's nothing left. I sent a message via a tavern filled with corpses and they ignored it.”
The sheets of rain obscured our proximity to the compound. Dresdok had been right. They weren't expecting us. Karma's Gaze pierced the rain, dotting the guard's positions along the compound's perimeter.
Eight level-three guards patrolled a covered walkway lined with arches and columns, keeping watch over the mansion's main entrance. Apart from the mansion, only two other buildings stood nearby, each guarded by their own four-man team of level-threes.
“So, are you staying here?” I asked, curious as to how much more bloodshed the elf could stomach.
Viessa adjusted her cowl, emerald eyes locking onto mine. “I will bear witness.”
I handed her two throwing knives from my belt. “Take these.”
“I am not a warrior. You would know about my profession, what happened to me, and who I am if you ever bothered to ask. I’m a trained scholar who held a position of utmost importance. I was Elmheart Library's vice-record keeper, not some roughneck!”
Truthfully, I hadn't checked on her status information since we had first met. I just wasn't interested, and besides, prying into her personal business with Karma's Gaze, and its new bonus data feature, felt too damned creepy.
So far, I had only considered her as the cardboard cutout of a ghost—a reminder of my failures in my old life. It was nonsensical. She hardly looked anything like her. No, she was gone, and even if the elf’s mannerisms were eerily similar, the two of them were worlds apart.
“I'm not asking for your participation. Why don't you just wait here?” I asked, frustrated for feeling ever-so slightly worried.
Viessa snatched the small knives out of my hand and tucked them into an empty slot on her belt. “After witnessing such disturbing magic, it would be grossly negligent for me to stay behind. Danger or not, a record must be kept.”
That was number one on the list of things I didn't want to hear before killing several people. We'd have a chat about what “off the record” meant later.
The iron gate wrapped all around the expansive compound. Between the Sanguine Syndicate and Thunder Fang, the latter was small potatoes. Though, I appreciated their arrogance displayed by the lack of security at the front gate.
“Get on my back,” I said.
The elf climbed on as I squatted, squared my hips, and leaped over the gate with ease. We landed and Viessa eagerly let go. Less than 30 yards away, there was a building on our left and one to our right, with a walkway that led to the mansion in the middle.
“They're hardly expecting one visitor. Stay out of sight and only move up on my signal.”
Viessa nodded, and I was off to the races. Running with a strong breeze at my back, I started on the left side. Four level threes stood along a raised wooden platform outside of the single-story building.
“Did you hear? Coda pissed himself. I'd be too embarrassed to show my face around here again,” one of them said.
Another guard lit a pipe with the flick of his finger. “You weren't in the room. He was in hysterics. Claimed it was the same guy that massacred Thunder Fang.”
“Buncha horseshit. Everyone knows Soul Viper wanted them out. Bet it was one of their teams,” another spoke up from the far side of the deck. “Probably the work of their nasty Reaper Unit.
“Ah, fuck off. Soul Viper wouldn’t send them after those punks.”
The smoker blew a plume from the corner of his mouth. “I was also in the room when they spoke with Ockham. He watched the whole Thunder Fang debacle go down while he hid in a pile of trash outside of their bar. He says a lone man appeared and told everyone he'd spare those that left.” The smoker tapped the ash from his pipe. “Five minutes later, Thunder, Fang, and almost 20 of their men were dead.”
“Ockham's a known liar. That basta—”
The tip of my stiletto appeared between his teeth. I pressed my boot into his back, dislodging the dagger, sending his body tumbling into the others. Only the smoker unsheathed his sword before my throwing knives eviscerated the lot of them.
I jumped off the deck and jettisoned toward the building on the east. The second group of guards was in the middle of a heated discussion about foot blisters. Rather than observing their surroundings, they were huddled together on the porch, avoiding the wind as it whipped rain over the deck’s wooden rail.
Dagger Step.
I teleported into the center of the group, unsheathed my crescent blade, and spun around. All four syndicate members dropped dead. I heard murmurs coming from inside the building, but decided eliminating the remaining patrols took precedence.
Mud clung to my boots as I strolled through the courtyard, nearing the walkway that led to the mansion.
+45 XP
+20 Karma
I ignored the floating text, knowing I was nowhere near level seven, yet. The patrols near the entrance seemed more in-tune with what being a guard meant. Each group of two remained within line of sight of each other and maintained distant spacing.
Their loose formation made a stealthy approach difficult. I retrieved Dresdok's severed head from my cloth sack, making a mental note to dry clean the bag later. I crept toward the awning overlooking the walkway, head in hand.
A guard yawned and his comrade punched his shoulder. “Don't you know what happens if the council catches you slacking?”
“I'm tired, asshole,” he responded.
I kept low to the ground, thirty meters out, soaking in the rain. Like a bowling ball, I rolled Dresdok's head down the slick marble lane. The freshly severed head eventually swerved into a guard's foot.
The guard looked down, then threw his hand up like he was on fire. Immediately, their formation tightened with the other patrols collapsing inward.
“Is that Dresdok?”
“Impossible.”
Agility Burst.
“Send—”
I dashed out of the darkness at a vicious speed, zigzagging from patrol to patrol, dispatching all eight of them at a record-setting pace. Wiping my daggers off on my cloak's edge, I glanced back and saw Viessa positioned behind a bush along the perimeter. I gave the signal, and she hustled over.
+45 XP
+20 Karma
Together we approached the mansion's front door—a heavy slab of stained wood with a narrow glass panel. Warm light seeped out, illuminating the marble walkway streaked with crimson blood. Through the glass, I glimpsed a sweeping staircase that rose to a landing before branching off in opposite directions on the second floor.
I jiggled the door handle. It was locked.
Shadow Weave.
I strung a thin shadow underneath the door. I noticed Agility Burst's lingering effect heightened my sense of control over the shadow. Closing my eyes, I fished for the bolt. A strange sensation tingled through my fingertips. The shadow line relayed what it touched: solid wood, then cool metal. I rotated my hand, and the lock clicked.
Viessa stared in amazement, puzzled by the trick. Before entering, I scanned the lobby, not spotting a soul.
“Stay close for now.”
She nodded, and I swung the door open, tracking mud across the entryway. The first floor consisted of an east and west wing connected by a lengthy hallway occupied with doors on both sides. To the north was a spacious room outfitted with plush couches, a dining table, and a kitchen. Crystals encased in glass affixed on the walls emitted a constant amber light.
Silence pervaded the vast mansion, and I concluded their security sucked. Was it carelessness or brazen confidence? I certainly knew a bit about both.
We walked across the long hallway into the kitchen and rummaged through a chilled stone box. Blue crystals lined the bottom of the container, releasing a blast of icy air. I pulled out a roasted chicken leg and handed it to Viessa, who graciously accepted the offering.
A marble counter extended from wall to wall. I ran my finger across the cool, smooth countertop, wondering if the syndicate got a good deal from a local quarry.
Where the hell is everyone?
Chicken in hand, Viessa waltzed over at the end of the counter and claimed a roll of parchment along with a quill and a jar of ink.
I examined one of the crystal lights affixed to the wall. Warm energy kissed my palm as I hovered my hand over it. “Do you know how to turn these off?”
“Only a mage specialized in enchantment can accomplish that,” she said with a mouthful of chicken.
“That's unfortunate,” I said.
Controlling Shadow Weave felt much more forgiving in a dark environment. When I had picked the door's lock, I felt the light fighting back against the shadow string like a stray breeze. The ability was cumbersome enough already, without having all these lights on.
As I finished examining the magic lights, footfalls resonated from overhead as they trailed toward the staircase by the front entrance. It seemed our unauthorized tour of the mansion was about to be interrupted.
