Chapter 124: Bandits (Part 1)

  Sylka sat naked in his secret chamber.

  The specially made chair just accommodated his bear-like massive body. Blocks of muscle on his body were as tightly packed as iron lumps, making him look like a fortress of muscle. Hundreds of wounds of varying sizes crisscrossed densely across it, each proving this body was forged in baptism of blood and blades, possessing no decorative qualities.

  He was forty-five years old. This should have been an age of beginning decline, but not a trace of aging could be found on him. His energy remained boundless, his desire for money and women even stronger than in his youth. The thing standing erect between his legs now was evidence.

  His fingers rubbed a gold coin. The smooth, cool touch of the coin's surface was so wonderful; he could even discern its purity—it was minted during the early Erathia dynasty. Hard yet carrying gold's unique flexibility, far more satisfying than kneading a woman's nipple. This sensation touched the deepest part of his heart, the brand that had settled in his soul over these forty years.

  When he was four, his mother taught him the most important lesson of his life, selling him to a baron for three silver coins. Seven years later, he was sold to another old viscount who favored young boys for the price of one gold coin. After enduring, plotting, and preparing for three years, he found an opportunity, killing the old master in the most brutal way, raping and murdering his daughter and granddaughter, then fleeing with all the money he could collect. The nobles placed a bounty on him, and the rest of his life revolved around money—killing and being hunted. His world became one where money transformed between flesh, blood, and life. Over time, he finally found the truth of this world: everything could be equivalently exchanged for that shining little thing. Possessing it meant possessing the world.

  From then on, all his spirit and thought revolved around this little thing. To the point where he often hallucinated when looking at things—everything, every matter was constructed from jumping coins.

  Ten years later, after killing the eleventh elite knight sent to hunt him, he felt capable of claiming a place in Erathia. Thus, he founded The Shamushi Thieves' Guild, which rapidly became Erathia's largest bandit gang.

  Strictly speaking, The Shamushi Thieves' Guild had little to do with thieves. This was just a convenient label people used to group them with other relatively kind and peaceful organizations. Under Sylka's leadership and command, robbery, kidnapping, serving as mercenaries, acting as assassins—all fell within The Shamushi Thieves' Guild's business scope. As long as it ultimately yielded those shining little coins.

  And in this past month, these little things that haunted his dreams suddenly increased by several thousand. Precisely, four thousand three hundred and seven gold coins—the ledger on the table before him made it clear. The handwriting was Axsis's, the cripple's, as crooked as he was. But the meaning contained in the words made them more moving than any woman's naked body, making him ravenous with desire.

  This was a fortune sufficient to buy a small city. Even across the entire continent, absolutely no organization could achieve such income in such a short time. Five elven women had sold for hundreds of gold coins each, and the most beautiful one had been bid up to over a thousand by several decadent young nobles—rarely were there such valuable goods. Owning an elven female slave wasn't just about sensual beauty and novel stimulation; it was a symbol of status and position. Some nobles were nearly obsessed with these elven women. They had already paid the guild considerable gold coins, pre-ordering more elves.

  With just one more major deal like this, The Shamushi Thieves' Guild could leap to the top of the continent in both strength and reputation. Just thinking of that mountain-like gold coins, strength comparable to the royal army, set a fire burning in Sylka's heart, his blood boiling. During this time, he was in a state of extreme excitement almost constantly. In the past week alone, eight women had been crushed to death or kneaded to death by him in bed. But no matter how many, how beautiful, or how skilled the women were, none could alleviate or cool this desire for even a moment. He was certain that if he couldn't fulfill this wish, he would go mad, would explode.

  The three prostitutes next door were barely breathing, but his thing still stood tall and unyielding. The fire in his heart still burned, growing fiercer, more vigorous. He was waiting for the person who could extinguish this fire for him.

  The door opened, and Axsis hobbled in. Compared to Sylka's massive frame, his thin and small stature seemed like just a blade of grass—a withered, broken one. Only one hand and one foot could move, his facial features were twisted and maimed, with only a few sparse hairs on his head, making him look like an enlarged goblin.

  If Sylka was the soul of The Shamushi Thieves' Guild, then Axsis was the brain. This fellow who had studied at the Magic Academy on the Eastern Continent undoubtedly had a useful mind; otherwise, he wouldn't have become a high-level mage before thirty. But later, after being discovered using mind magic to molest little girls, he killed people with magic while resisting arrest, and was struck by lightning from a high priest who rushed to the scene, turning him into charcoal. Though he miraculously revived and escaped from the pile of corpses, nearly half his body was disabled by that lightning spell. After fleeing to Erathia, he joined The Shamushi Thieves' Guild and soon became the second-in-command, second only to Sylka.

  Axsis held a robe, looked at the mountain of flesh that was Sylka, and the thing beneath him that seemed about to lift the table, sighed, and tossed the robe to Sylka, saying: "Put it on. That gentleman probably won't like you like this."

  The largest scar on Sylka's face twitched, even reddening in color, like a centipede crawling on his face jumping. He paused, exerted considerable effort to calm himself, and slowly put on the robe.

  Axsis watched him get dressed, then walked out. A moment later, he returned again, making a bowing gesture at the doorway in an awkward, strenuous posture, his voice carrying the flattery and respect of a doorman at a grand hotel: "Please come in. Our leader has been waiting for you."

  The visitor showed no acknowledgment of his courtesy, walking in silently without a word.

  His steps were steady and powerful, yet still carried the slight sluggishness characteristic of older people. His bearing revealed an ordinary person, at most one in good physical condition. That thin neck looked so fragile; Sylka was certain he could break it with no more effort than twisting a chicken's neck.

  But he had no intention of testing this. The silver mask on that neck was enough to make anyone calm down. The skull shape of the mask looked particularly eerie under the lamplight. The light reflected wasn't the bright sheen of ordinary metal, but a luster as delicate and soft as a maiden's skin.

  "We've been waiting for you. Please sit." Sylka had forgotten when he last spoke to someone in such a polite tone. His voice was hoarse and deep from unfamiliarity and uncontrollable excitement.

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  A pair of eyes behind the skull mask glanced at him, nodded slightly, and said in an equally hoarse, strange voice: "No need for pleasantries. I'm busy. Speak quickly."

  Sylka said in a deep voice: "The scroll and map you gave me last time were very useful. We successfully used them to infiltrate the elven settlement in Tulalion Forest."

  "And then?" the elder behind the skull mask asked flatly. "Did you find what I'm looking for?"

  "No. We were unprepared. And we underestimated the elves' movements. We didn't see what you mentioned."

  "But I heard you captured five elves and exchanged them for quite a few gold coins." The elder's voice was cold.

  "Many of those elves were mages. We lost four people." A low growl, like an animal's, rumbled from deep in Sylka's throat and nose.

  "I told you. Any elves you capture are your payment for the operation. But don't forget what I instructed." The skull-faced elder said slowly. "Use the money you gained this time to find more helpers. Whatever happens, you must complete this within two months. I have no more patience or time to wait."

  The howling in Sylka's throat intensified tenfold, echoing in the secret chamber. The scar on his face twitched as if about to leap off. Axsis's face contorted; he quickly interjected: "But sir, you know, there are thousands of elves in Tulalion Forest. And they've lived there for centuries, even established a teleportation magic array—it's the largest elven settlement on the continent. Every one of them is a natural archer, and there are several great mages..."

  "I know, so I didn't ask you to occupy Tulalion, just to find something for me. As support, I'm giving you these this time." The elder took out three scrolls from his robe and placed them on the table. These three scrolls differed in both appearance and the faint magical fluctuations they emitted, but they shared one thing in common: a small purple skull at the top of each.

  Looking at these three scrolls and the small purple skull on them, Axsis beside him let out a trembling moan, like a lecher seeing a peerless beauty naked. He had specialized in identifying and creating magical items at the Magic Academy and could see at a glance what kind of treasures these were.

  "One is still the type that can break the elves' barriers, while the other two are large-scale magics to help you fight the elven mages. These two scrolls should be very helpful to you." The elder paused, his tone slightly chilling as he said. "In other words, this is the last chance I'm giving you. I hope you won't disappoint me." The elder finished flatly, then took out a teleportation scroll.

  "Yes, yes, certainly, certainly." Axsis nodded and bowed vigorously, his already hunched and twisted body looking like a strange arthropod. It seemed he used great effort before daring to cautiously say to the elder who was unrolling the scroll: "Sir. I am most willing to serve you. I ask for no reward, and absolutely dare not presume to guess where you come from or who you are... Only, if I help you complete this matter, could you permit me to become one of you and your companions... Ah, no, no, how could I be qualified? I mean, even becoming your subordinate, your servant, I would be willing..."

  The elder turned his head, the gaze beneath the skull mask falling coldly on Axsis's face.

  All the muscles in Axsis's body that could still move immediately twitched. Whether from excitement or fear, he stammered: "No, I absolutely have no improper thoughts. I just admire your superb magical art and hope you could guide me a little, that's all. Though you are omnipotent, I could also help you solve many trivial matters. I only ask that you could... could..."

  "We'll talk after you complete this matter." The elder left this sentence, unrolled the scroll, and disappeared in a blue light.

  Axsis's already grotesque face became even more distorted with excitement and joy. He stood dazed for a good while before recovering, walked to the table, and carefully examined the four scrolls, his eyes holding the radiance only seen when a saint beholds a miracle.

  "Is this old fellow really from the Necromancer Guild like you said?" Sylka suddenly asked.

  "Of course." Axsis subconsciously looked left and right, answering in a low voice, as if fearing this taboo prophecy might be detected by the elder who had just left. "Didn't you see that mask? It's made of the most expensive mithril, permanently infused and reinforced with magic. And these three scrolls..." His withered fingers caressed the scrolls on the table, both fingers and voice trembling slightly, like a youth first touching a lover's breast. "Two of the scrolls seal great magics. Like the scroll he gave us last time to break the elven barriers, they are the art of magic. And the magical materials needed to create such scrolls... Ah, there's actually a Star Shard... Oh, my heavens... That simply can't be bought with gold coins." Axsis sighed, concluding like a chant of praise: "In this world, besides the Necromancer Guild in Diya Valley, who else could have such grandeur, such superb magical art?"

  Sylka stood up. The chair he had just sat in immediately collapsed into a pile of wooden fragments. He looked at where the elder had stood, the scar on his face seeming ready to leap off and choose someone to devour. He said, word by word: "If not for the money, I would have torn that old fellow to pieces just now. I hate most when people speak to me in that tone. Whether they're human or ghost."

  "Fortunately, you didn't do that, or we'd really be ghosts..." Axsis lowered his head, muttering to himself. He had always been extremely troubled by this leader's temper. "You don't know, the necromancers of Diya Valley are the ones truly standing at the top of this world. Their vision and knowledge are different from ours. Otherwise, why would they ignore those priceless elves and let you make money? They must have some concerns and plans, finding it inconvenient to act personally, which benefited us..."

  "I don't care what knowledge they have, nor what they want to do. I only need to know what I can get." Sylka looked forcefully at Axsis and the three scrolls, his voice burning hot. "Tell me, what can these three scrolls bring me?"

  Axsis thought for a moment, then answered: "Even with the best use of these three scrolls, it would be difficult for us to fight the elves head-on. But snatching what that gentleman wants and grabbing a dozen or so elves should be no problem."

  "A dozen or so..." Sylka smacked his lips, narrowed his eyes, carefully chewing on this quantifier. After a while, he asked Axsis again: "What magics are sealed in those two scrolls? What effects do they have? How long can the effects last?"

  "Uh... This shouldn't be direct damage magic..." Axsis quickly picked up the scrolls to examine and sense them. Fortunately, his expertise in this area surpassed his magical rank level, and he soon reached a conclusion, reporting to his leader with surprise and joy. "Though I can't be certain, these two should be..."

  After hearing the scroll's description, Sylka reacted surprisingly calmly. He even quieted down, sitting cross-legged on the spot, closing his eyes.

  Axsis watched him quietly, not daring to make a sound to disturb. He knew very well that although this leader was more brutal than anyone, more fierce and domineering than anyone, seemingly ready to leap up and tear any opponent to shreds and devour them at any moment, when necessary, he could become completely quiet, analyze rationally, and then wait for opportunities with superhuman patience. This was a person who displayed the lion's ferocity outwardly at all times, but hid the serpent's calm, the fox's cunning, and the scorpion's endurance deep in his heart. For The Shamushi Thieves' Guild to become the largest force in Erathia's darkness, mere ferocity and ruthlessness were far from sufficient.

  This was also why Axsis had willingly remained subordinate to this seemingly crude and impulsive man. Intellect was sometimes important, but what truly held power was the soul.

  After a long while, Sylka opened his eyes and asked Axsis: "I remember you said those elves are very wealthy."

  Axsis paused, then said: "When I said that, I only meant the magical items they've accumulated. Since they can establish a long-term teleportation magic array, in terms of magical materials and level, they can probably compare with a major power like Erathia. But those fellows don't have much gold..."

  Sylka grunted, pondered for a moment, then said: "We need to hire helpers. Those people we intended to ask for help last time."

  "But... those people's prices are very high..." Axsis said hesitantly.

  In fact, after receiving the commission and scrolls from that mysterious elder suspected to be a necromancer last time, Sylka hadn't acted directly. Although Axsis was certain of the magic scroll's effect, Tulalion Forest wasn't a place one could enter casually. The beauty and elegance of female elves were world-renowned, and many nobles had long coveted them, but captured elven women had been almost unheard of for the past decade or more, showing how strong the elves' defenses were. Thus, Sylka didn't act rashly but hired others to "test."

  Erathia had no shortage of criminals, and those who would do anything for money weren't limited to The Shamushi Thieves' Guild. Moreover, because those people were accustomed to working alone, their skills were almost always sufficient to handle matters independently. Naturally, the price to hire them was proportional to their abilities. For just a test, Sylka hadn't been willing to spend heavily on truly skilled helpers, but the test results were so good that the next step would be different.

  "Whatever they ask, we agree. Even if they require advance payment, we'll pay." Sylka calmly ordered Axsis, word by word. "Remember, hire all the experts in Erathia for me. No matter the cost. Use all our funds, not leaving a single gold coin."

  Sylka's voice was flat, not just calm and steady, but as if he now saw the gold coins that had been his sole driving force as external possessions, without cherishing them.

  Axsis listened carefully. Though somewhat surprised, he asked no questions or expressed doubts. He understood that only one situation could make a money-grubber spend extravagantly, even bankrupting himself. And this flat tone precisely indicated the magnitude of his determination. Truly powerful emotions were those that could be hidden within the heart. He immediately nodded and turned: "I understand. I'll go handle it immediately."

  "Wait." Sylka stopped him, took a deep breath, the slight tremor in his throat echoing ceaselessly in the secret chamber, like an active volcano about to erupt at any moment. "After you go out, have someone find three women for me..." He paused, his breathing trembling even more violently. "And a noble boy, thirteen years old, blond hair. Remember, noble. Best if he's a viscount's son."

  "Yes. I understand." Axsis nodded and turned to leave. Seemingly infected by his leader's mood, he also felt some excitement and agitation. He could see that what followed would be an unprecedented major operation. Perhaps he should also find a woman to relieve and relax himself. Axsis thought secretly.

  Though his thing had been completely destroyed by that lightning, he had other methods. Carefully appreciating the pain and wails of beautiful women—this was now his only means of satisfaction.