The orbs had only lingered for a second, but its scanning gaze carried undeniable purpose, only vanishing when I spotted it. Was it detection magic? A conditional spell we triggered upon entering the room? Or something else entirely? And how didn't anyone else see it glowing in the dark?

  "Want to give us a hand or are you just going to watch?" Celina asked as she leveraged her weight against the slab of iron blocking the doorway.

  Gustall and Brythan groaned, pushing with all their might, eventually giving up.

  Such a sad sight.

  "Out of the way." I stepped up to the blockade, squared my hips, placed my hands on the iron and shoved.

  It didn't budge. Not one fucking inch, and I was seriously putting my back into it.

  "See—It's impossible," Brythan whined. "Let's turn back, we can still leave and they'll never even know we were here. They'll think this psycho killed all the guards. Uh, Cyprus, you don't mind taking all the credit, right?"

  Psycho?

  Why did people always end up calling me that? His hands were just as bloody as mine. Hell, according to the karma ratings, I was practically the pope compared to this scumbag.

  "Just shut up and heave," Celina barked as she joined me at my side.

  Gustall did the same, while Brythan stood and watched, solemnly shaking his head. After listening to us struggle, he finally relented and joined in. Iron screeched across the stone floor as the slab moved inch by excruciating inch until the doorway was clear, revealing a hallway, dimly lit by a single magelight affixed to the stone wall.

  "Stick together," Celina whispered.

  With just under 20 hours remaining on the timer, I wholeheartedly ignored her direction and shot ahead of them, flying down the hallway like a bat out of hell. As it curved, I spotted one more amber magelight attached to the wall beside a tall wrought-iron door.

  Gently jiggling the handle, I confirmed the door was locked, and glanced over my shoulder, verifying the coast was clear.

  Shadow Weave.

  I drew a shadow thread from the darkness and quickly slid it into the door's keyhole. I weaved the thread through an intricate tumbler, slipping it between the pins like liquid, nudging them into place until the lock clicked.

  As I pushed the door open, Celina careened around the corner, arms flailing like I was about to trigger a deadly trap. But there was no looming disaster, only a semi-circular chamber lined with seven iron doors. Humidity clung to the air, smelling of mildew and filthy feet.

  She wiped the sweat from her brow, then placed her hands on her knees, catching her breath as she examined the chamber. Celina shot an disapproving glance my way, which I spiked back over the net with a cold, thousand-yard stare.

  "Slow down," she said. "We mustn't move recklessly."

  "I'm in a hurry."

  "What are you truly doing here, Cyprus? You expect me to believe you're here to bring down Black Diamond?"

  I wasn't actually as intent on bringing down their entire operation as I was just fixated on saving Viessa and killing all the witnesses.

  "Recently, a lot of folks have come to believe they can intrude on my life without consequence. So, you're correct, I'm not here to explicitly bring down Black Diamond. No, I'm sending a very specific warning to the world at large."

  Celina squinted real hard, then cleared her throat. "How familiar are you with Anderhorn Spire and Black Diamond?"

  "Anderhorn Spire? Never heard of it."

  "We're standing in it... Only the lower levels are considered the Cellar. You saw its vastness. The spire was built to shelter over a thousand travelers before the port's construction was abandoned. Its layout is complex and—"

  "I'm not worried about its history," I interjected.

  Celina blew out a frustrated sigh. "No, you should be worried about Black Diamond and the 3,000 mercenaries under their banner—a third of which could be stationed in this very tower."

  "I was under the impression Black Diamond was just a collection of bandit groups like yourselves."

  "Perhaps that was the case years ago. After they absorbed the most prominent bandit groups they turned to more aggressive marketing to bolster their ranks. Lots of fliers and recruitment fairs, signing bonuses, and such."

  If I could attain the power to resurrect someone from the dead, I'd revive Cleveland and kill him over and over, again and again.

  "I recognize that look. Someone gave you bad information."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  I bet Celina was smirking under the charcoal colored bandana covering the lower half of her face. So what if I had assumed there were significantly less than 1000 mercenaries to deal with?

  "You may be quick on your feet and swift with a blade, but you are only one man. If you're doing this for reputation, there are easier means that don't involve getting me and my family killed."

  "Hmm..." I scratched my chin, carefully digesting her words. "This is the problem. If everyone knew what I was capable of we wouldn't be having this conversation. Maybe when Black Diamond loses a third of their forces, they'll steer clear of me and my business."

  It was only a partial bluff. If I could locate Viessa in the Cellar, maybe I'd settle my grudge with Black Diamond another day. Yet, there were too many shifting variables coupled with the pressure of a ticking clock for me to sit down and form a bulletproof plan. No, these were the perfect circumstances to move recklessly.

  Celina was about to spit out a rebuttal, but Brythan and Gustall jogged through the doorway, joining us in the musty scented chamber—their bandanas stained with sweat.

  "Don't worry, I won't let anyone pull a lever," I added. "Do any of you have a pocket glass?"

  Brythan reached into his satchel and retrieved a pocket glass with a narrow bronze frame.

  "Thanks."

  He handed it over and I briefly gleamed over my status, then stashed it in my bag.

  "Oh, you're keeping it." Brythan forced a smile. "It's no trouble. Enjoy."

  I noted my current XP at 17,205/17,500 and quickly realized I was only a mere 295 XP away from reaching level eight.

  Just do it here. They won't see it coming. Leveling up now is crucial for Viessa's rescue. Who knows when you'll get another chance to allocate stat points?

  Be efficient.

  Quiet! Just stay fucking quiet. I'm trying to think.

  I tilted my head to the side like I was trying to draw water out of my ear as the devil on my shoulder continued prodding me with intrusive thoughts of actionable violence.

  Meanwhile, Celina picked the lock on the door in the center.

  "They always say the Anderhorn Spire is beyond enormous, but even in person this is hard to believe. Though, I always imagined it would be cleaner," Gustall said as he swept his index finger through a layer of grime on the stone wall, drawing a half moon with a simplistic stitch in its side.

  "We're not tourists visiting Sentinel Park, you training dummy," Brythan hissed and erased his cousin's illustration with a swipe of his palm. "Lina, I know you're hotheaded, and it's my mistake for thinking you'd cool down before we got this far, but Gideon is finished. We have to get out of here before it's too late."

  The wrought-iron door unlocked with a click as Celina glanced back over her shoulder, face puckered. "It's disgusting how many times you repeat yourself. Go on, turn your back on Gideon, you have my blessing."

  "The window to retreat is closing. Some strange eye-shaped orbs spotted us back in that room." I cracked my neck and shook out my arms, loosening my shoulders. "It's been a few minutes and we haven't drowned. Maybe they're taking their time surrounding us. Either way, don't expect it to stay quiet."

  For a moment, the Moonsewn Bandits were completely speechless. Gustall was shaken and Brythan looked sick, while Celina seemed mostly unaffected, like she was running the numbers on their odds of survival.

  "We won't drown. I made that up so you wouldn't rush through the front door, and ruin our mission." Celina let out a heavy sigh, dropping her shoulders. "Gus, Brythan, I relieve you from your duty. If Cyprus isn't mistaken, we triggered an Echo Eye. Since I couldn't detect it, the caster must be quite capable. Our odds of success have greatly diminished."

  In the wake of that bombshell, I walked over to door number seven on the far side of the chamber, deciding to take my leave before I turned them into chopped confetti out of cold logistics. Despite Celina and Brythan's negative karma ratings, they didn't seem like horrid people. Yet, I still considered chopping their heads off with Shadow Weave for a quick level up.

  "I'm not leaving your side. No matter what,” Gustall said.

  "Shut up, and go. I'll be fine on my own."

  "You heard her, let's get out of here!"

  "I-I can't, Lina there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

  I nonchalantly picked wrought iron door number seven on the far side of the room, strolled up to it, and hovered my palm over the wrought iron door's keyhole

  "I said shut up, I can't hear that. Not now," Celina said, trying and failing to keep her voice monotone.

  While what sounded like the climax of a Hallmark movie played out behind me, I focused on testing a new application for Shadow Weave. I was getting pretty used to picking locks with a shadow thread, but it was somewhat time consuming and required a ton of focus. Then it dawned on me—shadows were more malleable than wax, but could harden in an instant. So, I simply gathered a mass of shadows in the center of my palm and flushed them into the keyhole, and expanded them, clicking all the tumblers at once.

  Neat.

  The door screeched open, silencing the bandits as it revealed a curved hallway lined with mage lights on the wall.

  "Well, it's been real. Good luck."

  And I dashed off without looking back.

  Rude or not, it was for their own safety. They were low hanging fruit—somewhat endearing, but at the end of the day they were still food and I was starting to feel famished. Excitement simmered in my blood, overcoming the mountain of concern posed by the unknown.

  Soft light traced the length of the winding hallway, leaving little room for darkness to linger. Even if I had no idea where I was heading, I just assumed I'd stumble into a faithful Black Diamond employee and convince them to share some truths about their organization and the tower’s layout.

  As the hallway curved, I realized I was running on a slight decline, screw-driving lower into the tower until I came upon another wrought iron door at the end of the bottom of the hallway.

  Shadow Weave.

  I slammed my palm against the keyhole, popping the lock in one sharp motion. The door swung open and whistling wind surged past, tugging at the hem of my cloak as I stepped out. The walkway beneath my boots spiraled both upward and downward in a dizzying vortex, a structure so vast it threw my perspective off-balance.

  Data poured in from Karma's Gaze, flooding my view with an unusable amount of overlapping information belonging to countless prisoners. I snapped my right eye shut, severing the barrage of statuses, listening to the distant echoes of screams carried from unseen depths. Sounds of agony intertwined with the rhythmic pounding of hammers. Yet, despite the constant noise, an oppressive stillness was ever present. It was as if time itself had abandoned this place.

  The prison unfolded in both directions, levels piled above and below. Rows upon rows of open cells lined the walls with entrances and exits forming a monstrous honeycomb layout.

  What an architectural nightmare.

  I had expected a claustrophobic prison or something resembling a normal jail. Instead, I found myself standing on a spiraling walkway in the lower half of a vast, open-air purgatory. Blindsided by the moment, I hardly realized a number of prisoners had noticed my entrance.

  As I pivoted on my feet, I bumped into a giant of a man who somehow had crept up on me. I spun around, looked up, and saw the level 10 staring down at me with a sharp gaze.

  "You're a fool for coming here."