The intense rainfall diminished into a subdued drizzle as I lurked outside the barracks stationed south of the mansion. After a quick sweep through the mansion, I had instructed Viessa to rummage through the council's chamber for a key to free the prisoners while I handled the rest of the syndicate's forces.
A glance at my pocket glass showed I was only 885 experience points from leveling up. Cool rain wicked off my hood as I peered through a window alongside the barracks. There was a decent mix of level twos and threes, nearly 20 of them, eating and playing cards in a cafeteria. A window at the end of the structure revealed a sprawling dormitory furnished with bunk beds that were fully occupied.
Between the dorms and cafeteria, I guessed their forces consisted of at least 50 people. Originally, I planned on just cutting the head off the beast and disappearing into the night. The small fries would have served their purpose as witnesses. However, with Abdo and the soon-to-be liberated prisoners, there were plenty of living souls to spread this tale. In conclusion, I decided the more bodies I left, the harder my message would hit.
I circled to the front door, stepping over the guard's corpses, still baffled by the syndicate’s carelessness. In under an hour I had infiltrated their facilities and assassinated their council without rousing the rest of their forces. Full of vigor, I swung the door open and stepped into the cafeteria. Heads swiveled in my direction. Their statuses pummeled my gaze until I hiked Filter's level cap up to 5, feeling confident even without the data.
“Gentleman, all you have to do to survive is get past me and walk out this door,” I announced, eyeing a coffee kettle sitting on the stove.
“Is this a joke?” A bald guy wearing brown linen pants and tan suspenders stood up, still chewing a mouthful of sausage.
“Dresdok is that you?” another one asked. “We're tired of your shit. Scythe already ordered you to leave us alone.”
I exhaled a breath of resignation. “Dresdok is dead.”
A chunky dude with beady eyes chucked a half-eaten apple at my head. With a slight movement, I craned my neck, and the fruit flew out the open doorway. He laughed for a second until I flicked a throwing knife into his mouth, pinning his head to the wall.
Shock morphed into chaos that swept the mess hall. Tables flipped over and chairs screeched across the floor as everyone jumped to their feet. Baldy lunged across the room with a steak knife in hand.
“Go equip yourselves with armor and weapons,” I calmly suggested.
Baldy barreled forward, disregarding my kind recommendation. His movement lacked speed and fluidity. I simply leaned into his attack and bashed his skull in with a basic karate chop.
The sudden ruckus roused syndicate members from the dormitory on the other side of the building. Among the crowd forming at the end of the hallway, I recognized Coda, who made immediate eye contact.
“That's him,” Coda shouted through the turmoil.
Someone chucked a chair in my direction. I side-stepped it and countered with two handfuls of throwing knives. A wave of bodies dropped as an armored group flooded out of the dorms and into the mess hall.
They rushed in my direction in a haphazard V formation. Their leader rotated a spear in his hand, aiming at my belly as he took his shot.
I grabbed the spear tip with my gloved hand and snapped the spear's shaft. A cudgel swung by my head as I crouched, unsheathed my crescent dagger, and gouged their ankles in an arcing motion.
“What is he?”
“Someone alert the council,” a man shouted from a corner in the mess hall.
The armored group shrank back as four of their men lost their feet. Such a sight urged the unarmed syndicate members to hasten their retreat into the armory next to the dorm. I strolled across the writhing bodies, positioning myself in the center of the room as a second wave of challengers emerged.
There were six in total, all of whom stopped dead in their tracks as the blood of their comrades stained their boots.
“Are you aware of where you are? This is The Sanguine Syndicate's headquarters. You're vastly outnumbered. The council will never forgive this trespass. Everyone you care about will pay for this.”
Most of those who cleared out of the mess hall returned armed with a variety of pointed weapons: daggers, spears, long swords, short swords, rapiers, machetes and even a few axes. They formed a semi-circle blockade, closing in on me with one step at a time.
I strolled across the front of the room toward a counter. The men with good survival instincts backed up. Two massive grunts carrying long swords launched their offensive as I reached for a clay-fired mug on the counter.
“Pay attention, Coda,” I said, staring at him, hiding in the back, clutching a mace close to his chest. “This is your fate.”
My two challengers must've been overly confident because of their immense stature. They towered over me, wooden planks creaking under their weight. But just like everyone else at their level, their movements came across as lethargic at best.
I poured coffee into my mug as they lunged forward. One brute thrust his sword at my head while the other tried a vertical strike. I avoided their blades with minimal movement, not spilling a drop from my cup. Awaiting the inevitability of their plight to dawn on them, I tipped the mug, daring them to try again.
“Do what we practiced,” a brute said, the other nodding.
They launched a basic low horizontal slash followed by a diagonal. Yet, their blades swung through the air like it was made of Jello. I jumped on the counter, dodging their attack and raised the cup to my lips, just now realizing the impossible logistics of drinking a hot beverage while wearing the Grimstone Mask.
Shit, this isn't badass at all. I look like an idiot.
In an attempt to redeem myself, I splashed the liquid into my attacker's face. He blinked twice, stepping back, confused.
“It's... lukewarm,” he said, wiping the coffee from his eyes.
The spectacle fell flat. After the first armored group donated their feet, I considered letting them live. I had pictured them vividly describing tonight's scene in a smoky bar, warning their fellow drunks about how the grim reaper descended out of the night for a bloodbath with a side of coffee and how lucky they were to get away with just the loss of their legs.
“Everyone, kill this bastard!” the coffee covered man shouted.
Growing tired of his impromptu leadership role, I launched off the counter and ripped my dagger through his cheeks. He stumbled back into the crowd as I swept by his friend, puncturing his armor like a can of soup as I ran my crescent blade through his chest.
He collapsed, lungs probably filling with blood. I dove forward, unsheathing my stiletto with my free hand. Their net widened as anyone within striking distance lost their life. They were outmatched in every aspect.
Once half of them were dead, the atmosphere quickly changed. No more challengers stepped forward, instead they meekly backpedaled as I herded them down the hall like sheep.
Coda turned and ran toward the dorm, squeezing through the group in the back.
Agility Burst.
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I dashed into the corridor, slashing and slicing my way through the front. Howls of terror erupted as people pushed, shoved, and trampled their way into the dorms. I stabbed into turned backs, converting the hallway into a Vitamix.
Those that escaped into the dorms hustled toward the windows, ignoring the wails of anguish from their comrades and the overwhelming stench of blood.
Coda heaved the window open only for his comrade to kick him aside. The man reached an arm outside, grabbing onto the ledge.
Shadow Weave.
I gestured with an upward sweep of my hand. Darkness extended up from outside, blocking the windows and severing the arms of two potential escapees.
Warning Low Stamina
The ten remaining souls perished from a string of elementary attacks, leaving Coda as the last man standing amongst the massacre.
I suspended Shadow Weave, and the blockades dropped. Coda threw himself headfirst out the window and I followed him at a casual pace. He ran straight for the mansion, nearly tripping over his own legs.
“He's here, he's here!” Coda shouted into the night, stumbling over Dresdok's head as he neared the mansion's entrance.
Coda swung the door open and slipped on the slick marble floor, crashing into the staircase. I followed, walking after him, taking my sweet time.
“Coda,” I called after him. “There is no running, there is no hiding, there is no salvation.”
“Someone help!” he screamed, scrambling up the stairs.
Dagger Step.
He reached the top, and I met him there, staring into a pair of eyes that desired mercy. But all I saw beyond Coda’s pupils was a slideshow of him nearly drowning an innocent woman in a puddle. My blade connected and the connective tissue holding his head on his shoulders ruptured.
+725 XP
+190 Karma
***
The total eradication of The Sanguine Syndicate's headquarters, and 95% of its forces, took less than 45 minutes. I expected a pat on the back from Viessa or one of the supposed 30 prisoners she freed throughout the mansion, but the elf had already sent them on their way, along with all the gold she had found in the council's chamber.
The only worthwhile loot that remained was a golden statue depicting a pair of hands clasping a chain made of thorns. It was taller than Viessa and probably weighed close to a ton. I knew this, because I was carrying it on my back as we backtracked toward our rendezvous point.
“You shouldn't have given them all the gold. And I had questions only they could answer,” I said, wincing as the statue's weight bore into my back and shoulders.
“You would've only scared them or worse...”
“Or worse?” I dug my boots into the wet earth. “Don't start with this again. It's grating. I'm the one who rescued them from that hellhole.”
“Netherfiends are also known to feast on the brains of young women,” Viessa shrugged. “Perhaps you would've already eaten me if I were younger.”
She thinks I'm a cannibal?!
“I delivered justice. It doesn't get much more noble than that, so quit your bitching. If I spoke with them, they could've given me a decent lead for my next target.”
Viessa reached into her robe, retrieving a roll of documents. “These were in the chambers.”
“I'll look at it later. Don't let them get wet.” I sighed as my stamina ran low.
I was unscathed, but also exhausted, and my socks were wet. Karma's Gaze made evading the patrolling royal guards easy enough, especially since Oarwin offered no shortage of alleyways and unorthodox routes.
We trekked south through the rubble of leveled buildings until we neared Oarwin's outskirts, where we stopped and I scanned the area. After making sure nobody was following us, we cut across the street and dipped into an alley that led to the crumbling building where we had stashed our belongings.
The roofless three story structure still looked like it was about to tip over. I entered through the gap in the wall and climbed upstairs, gnashing my teeth as I tossed the golden statue up the broken staircase, thankful it didn't crash through the uneven floor.
“Change back into your normal attire and hide your disguise,” I said, hiding the statue behind two loose mattresses in a corner.
I changed into clean clothes, enjoying the sanctity of fresh, dry socks and the warmth of a new hooded cloak. I folded the bloody disguise and tucked it into the drawer of a broken dresser. As my fingertips touched the Grimstone Mask's smooth surface, I felt immense sadness coil around me like a python.
Leave it on.
“What did you say?” Viessa tucked her ears and hair underneath a green cowl. “You whispered something.”
“I didn't say anything.”
My hands trembled as I removed the mask and gasped for air.
Warning Low Stamina
I had forgotten all about the mask's passive stamina recovery effect. Reeling from a wave of nausea, I twisted the cap off my canteen and sipped warm water.
“Are you injured?”
“Never felt better.”
I stood up, shaking the queasiness off. I lifted a loose floorboard and stored my daggers along with most of my throwing knives and the Grimstone Mask in the space underneath.
Viessa slung the traveler's pack onto her back and used every ounce of strength to lift my tonfa up and strap it over her shoulder.
“Don't bother, I'll carry it.”
“Elves keep their word. I said I’d carry it,” she huffed. “Tell me we aren't going far.”
“Back to The Cobblestone Cradle,” I said, watching Viessa struggle as she scaled the wall back to the first floor.
I had almost insisted on carrying the tonfa, barely remembering she promised to carry it. Instead, I landed the killing blow on chivalry. It was far more entertaining watching the elf maintain her pride while we walked the last mile back to the inn.
“If you get tired and have to break your word, I'll understand.”
Viessa glared up at me. “Why didn't we leave this stuff back at the inn if you planned on us returning anyway?”
“In the event we couldn't go back. Plan for the worst, hope for the best.”
“Plan?” she scoffed. “It seems like you act purely on instinct. I've tried wrapping my mind around everything that's happened. The scary magic, the fact you speak flawless elvish, and your dubious behavior. You're also much stronger than when I first met you. Such a growth rate should be impossible. And yet you don't know what something as simple as a magelight is.”
I figured revealing the truth would only make me look more unhinged, if that was even possible. Nobody in their right mind would believe I came from another world, tasked with an indistinct, impossible task. Blessed by a god and at odds with another. Then there was the system, which I couldn't even put into words if I wanted to.
“I could've used that gold you donated,” I said, changing the subject. “The Gilded Boar is safekeeping my chaos shard until I pay their 50 gold tax.
“That can't be true,” Viessa grabbed the top of her head. “That's one of the world's five rarest materials. How did it come into your possession?”
“Found it in the Emerald Dungeon. I’m not even sure what it does.”
“A chaos shard has many applications. It can be used to forge legendary weapons and armor. Onadell’s finest mages could further their research with it… They are incredibly volatile when processed. Not even the world’s best blacksmiths can ensure a successful craft. Who knows this is in your possession?"
“Everyone.”
Viessa exhaled a deep breath. “I'd like to examine it. One of Onadell's legendary warriors uncovered one from a dungeon a long time ago. His brother, a trusted High Warden, murdered him, stole it, and fled Onadell, all in the same evening.”
“Get in line. I need to get it back and hold on to it until the next time I meet with my benefactor.”
“A benefactor?”
“Yeah, I think you'd like her.”
“Her?” Viessa asked. “This is a troubling development. Humans will certainly come for you.”
“For us... They'll come for us. Despicable people love underhanded tactics. That's the reason I moved against the syndicate in such a reckless fashion. I'm on the cusp of getting stronger.”
“No matter your talent, there are limits. And what's the other reason?”
“The timeline my benefactor set is... aggressive. If I lose this chaos shard, she'll likely end my life.”
The series of revelations left her confused. I could almost hear the gears in her head grinding as we approached the back entrance of The Cobblestone Cradle. I opened the door for Viessa. She stepped in and immediately handed off the overweight tonfa.
Our room was as we left it, dirty and rundown. I took solace knowing the old innkeeper didn't see us come and go. By morning, the royal guard would likely double or triple their presence in Oarwin. While they wasted their time, I'd take a contract from the adventurer's guild and let things in the slums cool off.
After learning from Eamon that a high-ranking noble was involved with Soul Viper, fragments of the puzzle fell into place. Drayvoss was connected with Soul Viper, and likely the Slaver's Union considering his trafficking operation. I deduced the same noble mobilized the royal guard with the intention of capturing me.
“Give me those documents,” I said.
Viessa lifted her boxy helmet off, brushing sweat matted strands of silver hair from her face. When she removed her armor and plate sabatons, I noticed she was almost a head shorter than me. The elf stretched her arms over her head, yawned, and grabbed the rolled up documents from inside her olive tunic and tossed it on my mattress.
“I'm going to take a bath,” she said with a fatigued sigh.
I snatched up the documents and carried them over to a desk with uneasy legs. “Hot water only runs during daytime hours.”
The elf muttered something under her breath as she checked under her mildew scented pillow for bugs before crashing face first onto the bed.
I skimmed through the papers, processing the contract between the Slaver's Union and Sanguine Syndicate. The papers revealed the syndicate had been hired to provide at least 10 “ripe” products that were “ready for distribution.” The syndicate was going to be paid two gold per head with various bonuses for virgins and inter-species humanoids.
The Slaver's Union had also baked in several contingencies, including payment penalties for failure to meet their expectations of “quality and quantity.” At the bottom of the document was a list of signatures from the syndicate's council and an official representative of the Slaver's Union, Milo.
Sickened by the documents, I burned Milo's name into my memory, concocting a 100 different ways to kill him. Human traffickers belonged in the upper echelons on the scumbag criminal tier list. They deserved more than death, and I’d be happy to provide just that.
Once finished, I held the papers over the oil lamp's flame. They caught fire, and ashes swirled through the air until the flames sizzled out against my gloved fingertips.
