《The Shackled Exalted [Dark Action Fantasy]》 Chapter 1 - Expelled from paradise (1)

Mia Mia poked her head above the collapsed ruins of an abandoned building. A large droplet fell from the rooftop, splattering against the moss-covered stone. She winced. Rain fell incessantly. The violent pitter patter was relentless¡ªdrumming against the ground like a thunderous stampede. Barely ten minutes had passed since the rainstorm arrived in the slums, and yet she was already drenched. The rags she wore clung uncomfortably to her childish body¡ªheavy after soaking up rain. Using her tattered sleeves, she wiped her eyes clear as she searched through the mist. Where is he? The unyielding drizzle drowned her ears. As she focused, she picked up on the sounds of muffled shouting nearby. Against her friend¡¯s wishes, Mia crawled out of her hiding spot and approached the racket. Eventually, she saw the silhouettes of the parties involved. There was her friend. Outnumbered. Alone. Under the frigid rain, he was desperately fending off his two teenage assailants. Emil! He was struggling. His opponents were ruthless, beating on him together without mercy. Emil ducked and weaved beneath their attacks as he tried to maintain his distance. The heavy rain, however, dulled his movements. I have to do something. Mia searched the vicinity. A stone. A stick. A piece of metal. Something. Something that even her scrawny body could throw. Something to help Emil. Squelch! She spun towards the disturbing sound. Red splatter sprayed into the misty air. A painful cry shrieked over the downpour, followed by a loud thud against the wet concrete. Emil had his fist outstretched, towering over the teenager that just dropped. His victim laid still, foaming at the mouth, unmoving. Without hesitation, Emil charged at the other assailant. Panicked by his companion¡¯s fall, the remaining teenager swung wildly. His desperate attack fell short as Emil stopped on a dime. Catching his opponent off-balance, Emil delivered a savage sweep at their knees. A gruesome crack pierced the air. Mia grimaced as the teenager screamed. There was a loud splash as he crumpled to the ground¡ªwhimpering, clutching onto his broken leg. ¡°Tell me!¡± Emil spat, hands clamped on the teenager¡¯s collars, ¡°What the hell were you doing in my territory?!¡± ¡°I-It was an honest mistake!¡± ¡°Really?¡± he hissed, unconvinced, ¡°So the two of you wandered in here, laid your hands on my friend, and decided to pick a fight by accident?¡± ¡°I, umm¡ª¡± Squelch! Another cloud of blood sprayed into the air. Mia looked away, unable to stomach the violence. Over the thunderous rain, the gruesome noise of bone grinding against flesh continued to shake the air. By the time Emil stopped, the teenager had lost consciousness. His head was arched back; blood pooled beneath his body. Emil mercilessly dropped him onto the ground. Instead, he stomped towards the other interloper who got knocked out earlier. ¡°Your affiliation?¡± ¡°H-Huh?¡± the other teenager stammered, still dazed from being struck on the jaws. ¡°Who are you with?¡± ¡°T-The Red Fangs!¡± Mia flinched. It was a name that she was sick of hearing. The Red Fangs were a gang with a formidable presence in the Lower Dannan slums. Their reputation was mauled by bloody turf wars and aggressive attempts to expand their influence. Emil clicked his tongue before smashing the teenager¡¯s nose. ¡°Get the fuck out of my face. The two of you are dead if I see you here again.¡± The two Red Fang members slowly limped down the alleyway as they retreated. Emil eyed them like a hawk¡ªhis fists clenched, ready to pounce if they dared to take a detour. Gradually, their silhouettes faded amidst the rain. ¡°Mia, you can come out now,¡± Emil suddenly said. H-How?! She froze, holding her breath out of instinct. Chills crawled down her spine. She swore she didn¡¯t make a sound. ¡°Mia. I know you¡¯re there. Stop wasting my time.¡± Realizing that she had been caught, Mia reluctantly stepped out into the open. Their eyes met. The boy wore a nasty scowl. Purple marks smeared beneath his large, intelligent eyes. His soft features defiled by scars and bruises. Mia always thought he looked strange¡ªsomeone with his appearance shouldn¡¯t have belonged in the slums. ¡°I told you to leave, did I not?¡± he snapped. ¡°Y-Yes,¡± Mia stuttered. The intensity on his face was terrifying. ¡°Yes. Y-You did.¡± ¡°Then what the fuck are you still doing here?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± I was scared you were going to die. ¡°¡­I thought you needed help!¡± she blurted out. Emil stared at her in disbelief before letting out an exasperated sigh. Shaking his head, he beckoned her over, the glare in his eyes softening as she got closer. ¡°Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?¡± he asked. ¡°No. Not really,¡± she said. Unconvinced, Emil lifted her arms and gently turned it to the side. She winced. There was a nasty gash on the underside of her right arm. The glaring wound was still bleeding. Mia caught a glimpse of madness flash across his face. ¡°I just fell! They dragged me by the arm and I fell,¡± she immediately explained. Emil raised an eye. ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± she pleaded, ¡°Nothing else happened.¡± ¡°¡­Fine.¡± Mia silently let out a sigh of relief once Emil dropped the issue. Thank goodness. I didn¡¯t want him to run after them again. ¡°Grab the stuff we¡¯ve scavenged. We¡¯re heading back to the compound,¡± Emil said as he went to pick up the bundle of miscellaneous junk that they had collected for day. ¡°And please,¡± he pointed at her injury, ¡°keep that a secret from Raz.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. *** The two of them walked in silence through the somber corridors of the Lower Dannan slums. The thundering rain continued to pour. Finally, they arrived at the compound. Mia glanced up. A tall metal fence towered before her. The only visible entrance was a large gate constructed from a bizarre mishmash of iron and wood. Rust and rot littered across some of the pieces, puzzled together haphazardly with nails and screws of irregular sizes. On the flanks of the gate stood two sentry towers crudely repurposed from abandoned scaffolding. The top of the gate and fences were reinforced with metal wires. They were barbed and sharpened to deter any ambitious intruders from climbing over. All of these contraptions were Emil¡¯s ideas. Mia watched as he approached the gate. There was a bell dangling by the side¡ªhe grabbed it and gave it a violent shake. ¡°Identify yourselves!¡± A scrawny boy immediately peered over from the top of the sentry tower. ¡°Dale! It¡¯s us!¡± Emil screamed back. ¡°Who the hell is us?! Identify yourselves and state your purpose!¡± ¡°It¡¯s Emil, you idiot! I got Mia with me! Open the damn gate!¡± Mia could have sworn she heard a panicked grunt escape Dale¡¯s mouth. The boy immediately disappeared below the sentry tower. A few seconds later, the gate to the compound creaked open. She stepped inside. Her shoulders automatically relaxed. Tension poured out of her body. The encounter with the Red Fangs now a mere afterthought. Finally, they were home. *** ¡°Emil!¡± Dale rushed towards them. The scrawny boy was a bundle of nerves. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry! I really couldn¡¯t tell it was you from the rain,¡± he pleaded. His voice was shrill and desperate, devoid of the aggression he displayed earlier. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Emil said, frowning, ¡°Dale, is your eyesight getting worse?¡± The question must have caught Dale off guard. He flinched, averting Emil¡¯s scrutinizing gaze as if caught in a criminal act. ¡°Should I take you off sentry duty?¡± Emil asked. Dale squirmed. ¡°¡­Does that mean I¡¯m not needed here anymore?¡± he whimpered. The corners of his eyes were trembling. ¡°No, you idiot. Do you think this place is some heavenly paradise that maintains itself? I¡¯ll find work for you. There are always things that need to be done.¡± Mia saw Dale¡¯s shoulders drop. Relief. The terrified glint in his eyes disappeared. Good for you, Dale. She understood exactly where he was coming from. The children living in this compound were all orphans. The one thing they all feared the most was being abandoned again. ¡°I-I¡¯ll think about it.¡± ¡°Sure, let me know.¡± Emil turned around and ventured deeper into the compound. Mia followed closely. They soon passed an array of makeshift tents¡ªeach fabricated from an assortment of rags and drapes scavenged from the slums. A boy poked his head out from one of the tent flaps. His face instantly brightened into a wide smile upon seeing them. ¡°Emil, you¡¯re back!¡± Without warning, the boy sprinted out into the rain. ¡°There¡¯s a problem with the well that you should look at.¡± The boy¡¯s loud voice resounded above the pitter patter. Soon, more kids emerged from the tents, apparently overhearing the commotion. Within seconds, Emil was suddenly swarmed by a group, all clamoring for his attention. Mia smiled as she waited for him to address all of their concerns. ¡°Mia, welcome back. Let me help with that.¡± An older boy scrolled up to her with outstretched hands. She happily obliged. Her arms were starting to grow sore. ¡°Thanks Bruno. Can you please take that to the supply depot?¡± As she passed over the bundle of scavenged items, she winced. The wound on her arm suddenly throbbed, exacerbated by the rain and the weight she carried. Remembering Emil¡¯s warnings, she immediately fixed her expression. Discretely, she pulled down the rags on her arms to cover the glaring gash. Bruno didn¡¯t seem to have noticed as he walked off with her items in hand. The rest of the kids were still crowded around Emil while he was giving an explanation. *** ¡°Ughhhh¡­¡± Emil groaned. Mia watched as he slumped against the wall. His eyes closed shut. Speaking with the other kids seemed to have sapped all of his remaining energy. Mia stared absent-mindedly at the window, observing the rain cascade down the dirty pane of glass. They were inside Emil¡¯s dwelling within the compound. It¡¯s been almost two years since I¡¯ve lived here. This compound that they called home used to be the site of an abandoned lumbermill. Emil and Raz discovered it by chance two years ago, claiming the spot for themselves and fencing off the perimeter with fortifications. After securing the place, they picked up orphans like stray animals until the compound grew into the community it is today. Mia was one of the first strays the two had found. While Emil always lamented the dilapidated state of this place, for Mia and the others, the compound was their paradise. A safe haven that kept them fed and safe from the malice and violence of the Lower Dannan slums. Orphans in Lower Dannan were treated like livestock. The lucky ones were recruited into gangs or adopted into brothels. The misfortunate ones were kidnapped and enslaved. Most starved, waiting to die in the alleyways for better luck in their next life. Emil suddenly shot up from his nap. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get your arm looked at.¡± He began sifting through the collection of bottles and jars stored on a nearby shelf. Mia frowned. You could have rested a bit longer, you know. After a few seconds, he came back with a clay bowl. A patch of dark green paste clung along the bottom. ¡°Looks like I need to make more again. Damn Raz and his crew keep getting into fights.¡± He scratched the back of his head, visibly frustrated. ¡°Stick out your arm and unroll your sleeves.¡± She did as she was told. Emil scooped up a line of the paste with a wooden spoon and smeared it along her wound. The gash burned slightly at the pressure until the cooling sensation of the paste began to soothe. Emil then teared a piece of cloth that had been boiled in water and wrapped it around her arm. ¡°Does it hurt?¡± ¡°No,¡± she lied, fighting to keep her face as neutral as possible. The last thing she wanted was to add to his list of worries. ¡°How many herbs do we have left?¡± ¡°We¡¯re low. The markets haven¡¯t been putting them on sale.¡± ¡°Great.¡± Emil sighed. ¡°How about the bandages?¡± ¡°I think the ones you¡¯re using are the last batch.¡± ¡°Bruno brought back more cloth.¡± He beckoned at a pile beside him. ¡°Can you cut them into strips and boil them later? Or find someone else to do it if your arm hurts. Maybe Dale, if he¡¯s changed his mind about¡ª¡± Thud! The door suddenly slammed open. A tall boy stomped into Emil¡¯s dwelling. Towering at six feet tall, his head was nearly at the ceiling of the house. His tanned face blemished with nasty scars. It was Raz, the other leader of this compound. ¡°Mia,¡± he uttered, nearly growling. His wild eyes landed on the bandages wrapped around her arms. Emil shot her an accusatory glance. She shook her head in denial. Bruno must have saw it. ¡°What the hell happened to you?!¡± Raz yelled, livid. ¡°Calm down, Raz. She¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°Answer the damned question!¡± Raz swung, smashing his fist into a nearby shelf. Mia covered her mouth in shock. Emil shot up¡ªhis eyes narrowed on the damaged items fallen on the floor. ¡°Yeah, yeah, you¡¯re angry. I get it. But how about you don¡¯t destroy every fucking thing around you?¡± he snarled. The two boys glared at each other in silence, hands balled into fists, chests flaring. Mia slowly stepped back, trying to create some distance in case a fight broke out. Emil was the first to relent. ¡°¡­Two outsiders intruded on our territory. They saw her.¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°The Red Fangs.¡± Raz¡¯s eyes grew wide. Without another word, he spun around, stomping towards the door. ¡°Raz!¡± Emil grabbed his arm. ¡°Where are you going?!¡± Raz glanced back, eyes blood-shot. ¡°To teach them a lesson, obviously.¡± ¡°I already broke one of their legs! The other one has a smashed jaw! I¡¯ve made our stance clear!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not enough! This shit is never going to stop at this rate. They need to learn not to mess with us ever again,¡± Raz declared as he ripped his arm free and broke out of the door. Emil immediately gave chase. *** By the time Mia caught up, a crowd had already gathered around the two. She managed to squeeze through the thin gaps towards the front, taking care not to disturb her bandaged arm. Emil had Raz by the collars. ¡°Let go,¡± Raz spat. ¡°This is fucking stupid. And you know it.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the one who doesn¡¯t understand, Emil! If we let this pass, the whole slum is going to look down on us. They¡¯ll think we¡¯re soft, we¡¯re scared, we¡¯re a bunch of cowards! They¡¯ll walk all over us and the same thing today will repeat itself!¡± ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡± Raz snorted. ¡°Of course. You know best, right? You¡¯re the smartest out of all of us here.¡± His eyes suddenly narrowed into a murderous stare. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean you know everything. Now, let go before I lose my patience.¡± ¡°Try me,¡± Emil retorted. Madness danced in his eyes. The crowd, who had been anxiously quiet before, suddenly burst into a frenzy. The somber ambiance was immediately overtaken by the excitement of a potential brawl. ¡°Hahaha! Did you forget you¡¯re a head shorter than me?¡± Raz smirked dangerously. ¡°You think taking out two of the Red Fang¡¯s trash suddenly means you¡¯re hot shit?¡± Raz tossed out a vicious left hook. Emil ducked, forced to let go of his collars as Raz¡¯s fist swiped the air. Both of them jumped back, hands raised before their heads, sizing each other up for the next exchange. The crowd exploded. Gasps and cheers rippled amongst the kids like wildfire. The entirety of the compound buzzed with excitement at the matchup between its two leaders. Mia clasped her hands, praying for a quick resolution. Chapter 2 - Expelled from paradise (2) Emil Rain thundered in his ears. How long have I been fighting? The crowd screamed and jeered in the background. Their voices subdued against the incessant rain. Emil narrowed his eyes. His vision blurred. His head spun, concussed from Raz¡¯s relentless blows. ¡°What? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re already done?¡± Raz¡¯s taunt blared in his ears. Emil felt his throat heat up as he threw a right jab. The heavy rain, however, sapped his stamina. Fatigue from his earlier fight against the Red Fangs dulled his movements. His reach was short. His punch struck the air. Raz jumped back¡ªa spring in his step. Shit! Emil caught a flash of the oncoming kick in his periphery. Pain exploded from his jaws. The next thing he knew he was staring up at the sky. Frigid waters drenched his back. Cold rain pattered against his face, chilling the scalding sting blistering across his cheeks. Raz loomed above. He crouched down, resting his knees against Emil¡¯s chest. In his hands was a knife, its silver edge pressed dangerously beneath Emil¡¯s neck. With just a gentle push, the blade would sink into his throat. The cheers of the crowd suddenly boomed in his ears. Emil felt a flush of heat rise to his cheeks as his will to fight waned. ¡°¡­I lost.¡± ¡°Obviously,¡± Raz snorted as he withdrew his knife and wiped his face. Blood soaked the side of his eyes and the corners of his lips. Although he won, he didn¡¯t escape the fight unscathed. ¡°Not bad, Emil. You got better since our last rodeo.¡± Raz sneered, eyeing his bloodied sleeves. ¡°But did you seriously think you could win?¡± Ptoop! Emil spat out a mouthful of blood. The red spittle was instantly carried away by the pouring rain. His mouth filled with a bitter aftertaste. ¡°No, I¡¯m not stupid.¡± Raz raised an eye. ¡°But you fought me anyways.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Which was pretty fucking stupid,¡± he scoffed before turning to one of the older boys in the crowd, ¡°Bruno, bring some bandages to my place later. I¡¯m staying put for the night.¡± Without another word, he departed from the scene. The crowd parted to make way for his exit as Raz disappeared into one of the dilapidated huts by the edge of the compound. *** Agony teared through his jaws. The pain pulsated madly¡ªa mixture between a sharp sting and dull buzz. Emil winced, glaring at himself in the mirror. The aftermath of his fight with Raz was becoming clearer. Black rings crowded around his eyes. His nose was still dripping blood. The bruises smeared across his face was beginning to purple. The bastard gave me a damn make-over. ¡°Keep your hands steady,¡± he said, his voice mired in resentment. His reflection continued to flicker under the dim candlelight. Mia was in his room, holding up the mirror for him to examine his injuries. ¡°I¡¯m trying! My arms are sore! Did you forget that I¡¯m injured as well?!¡± ¡°Wanna try having your face injured too?¡± ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t be mean! You¡¯re the one who chose to fight Raz!¡± ¡°Oh, really now? Do I look like I¡¯m stupid, Mia?¡± Emil snapped, ¡°You think I picked a fight because I enjoy getting humiliated in front of everyone?¡± ¡°¡­Then why fight him if you knew you were going to lose?¡± she asked, poking her head out behind the mirror sheepishly. Dammit, I¡¯m getting too heated. He let out a deep breath. ¡°I was trying to prove a point. To make Raz realize that he was doing something incredibly stupid. So stupid that I would choose to pick a losing fight in order to stop him.¡± The side of his face was becoming hot to touch. Yeah, it¡¯s definitely going to swell. His injuries from the Red Fangs were already bad enough. Fighting Raz only exacerbated things. Emil could already imagine all the taunts and giggles about his new appearance tomorrow. I should just lock myself inside. ¡°But what if he didn¡¯t change his mind after the fight?¡± Mia asked. ¡°Then I would¡¯ve tried to break an arm or leg. Enough so that he won¡¯t be able to fight the Red Fangs,¡± he said, rising to his feet. Night had already descended. It was getting late.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Alright, it¡¯s time for bed.¡± After escorting Mia back to her dwelling, Emil returned to his place. He shoved the items spilled by Raz to the side and plopped down onto the makeshift bedroll in the corner of the room. He closed his eyes. Rain continued to patter against the rooftop. Raz might have a point. Today wasn¡¯t the first time they had an encounter with the Red Fangs. Their members were spotted multiple times encroaching on their territory within the past few weeks. And it wasn¡¯t just the Red Fangs either¡ªother gangs in the slums were also starting to roam near their turf. Emil didn¡¯t think they had a weak reputation in the slums, however. Raz¡¯s infamy as a savage fighter usually kept the other gangs at bay. There were simply very few teenagers in the slums that were his size. Something odd must be happening in the Lower Dannan slums. The thought lingered in his head until the rain gradually lulled him to sleep. *** Thud! Thud! Thud! Emil woke up to his door being slammed. ¡°Emil! Are you awake?¡± The frantic knocking was accompanied by a shrill voice. Sure am now. He groaned as he wiped away the grime festering in his eyes. Dim light from daybreak peeked through the ragged cloth covering his windows. As the stupor began to wear off, he winced¡ªthe entirety of his face throbbed from yesterday¡¯s confrontations. Emil brushed the side of his cheeks, tracing the swelling that had hardened overnight. Yeah. Let¡¯s not look in a mirror. Reluctantly, he crawled out of his bedroll and went to the door. ¡°What?¡± He didn¡¯t bother to hide his annoyance. It was Mia. ¡°There¡¯s¡ª¡± Mia¡¯s eyes grew wide upon seeing his face, ¡°¡­are you okay?¡± ¡°No, but when has that ever mattered?¡± He sneered. ¡°So, what¡¯s going on?¡± Her face darkened. ¡°You need to come to the gate. Raz took some of the older boys outside of the compound before dawn. They just returned.¡± Emil¡¯s heart sank. Dread crawled up his spine. You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. He was almost certain of the answer, but he had to ask just in case, ¡°Where did they go?¡± ¡°The Red Fang¡¯s quarters.¡± *** A group had already gathered by the time he arrived at the gates. Emil immediately spotted Raz amongst the crowd. It was impossible to miss him¡ªthe six-foot teenager was a goliath compared to most of the kids residing in the compound. He was frantically scrambling about, trying to keep the curious crowd at an arm¡¯s length. ¡°Raz!¡± Emil called. Raz immediately spun towards his voice. The first thing Emil noticed was the makeshift bandage clumsily wrapped around his forehead. Blots of dark red had already soaked through the cloth. The side of his face was stained in cuts¡ªthe blood still fresh, barely dried. What unsettled Emil the most, however, was the panicked glint in his eyes. I have a bad feeling about this. ¡°Emil, I need your help! Bruno¡¯s badly hurt!¡± Raz was about to lose it. The crowd quickly parted for Emil and Mia to enter. At the center of the commotion was Bruno¡ªthe boy was laid on his back, his face pale, eyes trembling with difficulty. A puddle of blood was pooling beneath him. Emil took a deep breath to prepare himself. Then he lifted Bruno¡¯s shirt. ¡°Oh fuck.¡± The smell was rancid. A gruesome incision had been carved into Bruno¡¯s stomach. Blood pulsated out slowly with every beat of his heart. The wound was already festering¡ªyellowish pus mixed with the blood, foaming at the edges of the cut. This was bad. This was really bad. ¡°What the fuck happened to him?!¡± Emil screamed. ¡°H-He took a machete to the stomach,¡± Raz whimpered. ¡°From who?! The Red Fangs?!¡± Raz nodded reluctantly. Emil saw red. ¡°I thought I made it clear that it was a stupid move! I got beat up and humiliated in front of everyone, for what?! For Bruno to get sliced in the fucking stomach?!¡± Raz averted his gaze, unable to refute. His teeth were clenched, rattling with guilt. ¡°Mia! Get me everything on the top shelf inside my room.¡± Emil then pointed at a pair of boys in the crowd. ¡°You two, find me a sewing kit. There should be a few in the supply depot. The rest of you need to get a fire going! I need a bucket of boiling water!¡¯ The crowd spurred into action. Emil stared at the nasty wound, debating what would be the best course of action. The machete was probably poisoned or infected. Otherwise, Bruno¡¯s wound would not be festering yet. I have antidotes for the common poisons, but if it¡¯s something that I can¡¯t¡ª He shook his head, snapping himself out of the useless thought. I need to clean the wound. Halt the bleeding. He¡¯s already lost a lot of blood. Some of the herbal paste I have in stock might help coagulate the blood and ease the infection. But how do I even apply it? His wound is insanely deep. He slammed his head repeatedly with his palm, rattling his brain for any medical knowledge from the books on his late parent¡¯s shelves. Bruno suddenly started groaning. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡± Raz asked, alarmed. Emil placed his hands over Bruno¡¯s forehead. The skin was blistering hot. ¡°Fever.¡± He clicked his tongue. I don¡¯t have time to wait for water. He grabbed the set of clean bandages that he brought over for emergencies. Lightly, he dabbed at the incision, trying to clean the surface. With just a slight tap, however, the wound oozed. Blood overflowed, mixed with foul pus. The bandages were gone in an instant. Before he could ask for more, Bruno began to spasm. ¡°Why is he doing that?!¡± Raz yelled. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t know?!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never seen this before!¡± Emil screamed. Drool leaked from Bruno¡¯s mouth as his head began to convulse. ¡°H-Hold him down for now!¡± Raz and a group of boys rushed in on Emil¡¯s instructions, desperate to keep Bruno still. ¡°Now what?!¡± Emil¡¯s head blanked. Nothing was coming to mind. His knowledge was lacking. He had no formal training, no experience dealing with sort of anomaly. Unable to formulate a thought, he froze, mouth agape, staring dumbly at the absurd situation before him. ¡°Emil! Say something dammit!¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡­I¡ª¡± A pair of hands gripped his shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to save him!¡± Raz screamed into his ears, his tone full of accusation. ¡°I¡¯m not a fucking doctor!¡± Emil shoved him away. The strings inside him broke. The injustice of being screamed at for something beyond his control finally caused him to snap. ¡°You idiots never listen to anything I say! And then when things go wrong, you come crawling to me, begging me to fix it. I¡¯m not a God, Raz! What am I supposed to do when you bring people back who are half-dead?!¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Raz tried to retort. He flinched instead as Emil stomped towards him. ¡°You caused this,¡± Emil got up into his face, ¡°This is on you. Your ego couldn¡¯t stand being wrong, and so you had to go out there and try to be a hero. And now Bruno¡¯s blood is on your hands!¡± Silence suffocated the air. Emil¡¯s words lingered over the vicinity. Bruno continued to groan in the background. Fucking hell, what am I supposed to do about this? As he grappled with the next step in his treatment¡ª The bell from the gate suddenly rang. Dale rushed down from his post manning the sentry towers. His face was in full panic. ¡°T-The Red Fangs are here!¡± Chapter 3 - Expelled from paradise (3) Emil News of the Red Fang¡¯s intrusion rippled through the crowd gathered at the gates. Everyone froze, stunned with disbelief, unable to move from the shocking announcement. Emil stared at Dale¡ªdumbfounded. ¡°¡­How many are there?¡± he forced himself to speak, struggling to push down the panic rising to his throat. ¡°I-I think at least a hundred! They¡¯re armed as well!¡± Suddenly, he felt light-headed. Emil closed his eyes, grimacing, holding up the side of his head. The day had barely started and already there was crisis after crisis. Bruno¡¯s life was dangling on a thread, and now one hundred armed members of the Red Fangs were marching towards their compound. It was obvious why they were here. ¡°Emil, I¡ª¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up, Raz,¡± Emil snapped as his eyes shot open. He threw the bloodied bandages in his hands onto the ground and stomped on the remains. Heat rushed to his face. He cursed¡ªobscenities poured out of his mouth like water. His indignation caused his swollen jaws to throb. Fucking hell! The pain was excruciating, but it helped clear his head. He soon realized that everyone near the gates was staring at him. As usual, when a crisis arose, it was always him who they turned to. One thing at a time. He took a deep breath. Panic gnawed at the back of his mind, but he focused on his throbbing jaws to suppress the turbulent thoughts. ¡°¡­Dale, get all the sentries to their posts. They¡¯re to be armed and ready,¡± Emil began, ¡°Raz, get everyone else ready to fight. Set up the barricades. Assume that the gate will be breached.¡± He turned to the remaining crowd of children. ¡°Carry Bruno to my place. Mia should be there. Tell her to keep the fever under control and slow down the bleeding. I¡¯ll be there to help right after everything settles down. Come back afterwards and help Raz.¡± Emil rushed towards the sentry tower after delivering everyone¡¯s instructions. Behind him, the compound broke into a frenzy as news of the Red Fang¡¯s approach spread like wildfire. As he reached the top of the tower, Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. The corridor before the gates was swarmed with Red Fang members. Machetes and knives dangled from their hands. Each of the members were adorned in hard leather with the insignia of a crimson wolf woven onto their sleeves. It was the gang¡¯s signature embroidery. Emil heard that they only wore it when the gang went to war. Raz, what the hell did you do?! One of the gang members noticed his presence atop of the sentry tower. In an instant, the entirety of the Red Fangs turned on him. Shivers crawled down Emil¡¯s spine. He shuddered, petrified by the weight of the bloodthirsty eyes bearing down on him. A sinister voice radiated from the crowd, ¡°I heard that there was a boy with intelligent blue eyes who had Raz on a leash.¡± It came from an older teenager standing at the rear. Emil struggled to meet his venomous gaze. ¡°The name¡¯s Elias. You must be Emil,¡± he said as his eyes burned with hatred. Even the bigshot himself is here. Elias was the name of the Red Fang¡¯s leader. Emil forced to himself to smirk to feign confidence. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he replied, barely managing to keep his voice from shaking. Sweat clung to the side of his neck. ¡°May I ask why the Red Fangs are encroaching on our territory?¡± ¡°Why?¡± Elias snarled, ¡°Did that bastard Raz not tell you?!¡± The sound of Raz¡¯s name immediately threw the Red Fangs into a frenzy. Like famished beasts, they thrashed and growled, slamming their weapons together and stomping the ground, desperate to go wild at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°His goons raided our territory this morning! When those bastards were done fucking everything up, I found my cousin murdered in cold blood!¡± Elias screamed, tears foaming at the corners of his eyes, ¡°Now tell me, Emil¡ªare you still confused why I¡¯m here?!¡± Well, shit. Emil clenched his teeth at the revelation. He had a tiny sliver of hope that he might have been able to negotiate their way out of their mess. With the facts laid out, however, it was clear that a peaceful resolution was never on the table. The Red Fangs were hell-bent on revenge, and they won¡¯t be satiated until their loss was paid back in full. The ladder behind him rattled. Dale and the other sentries finally arrived. Each of them carried a makeshift crossbow, fashioned from wood, iron and braided rope. Emil took one from Dale, making sure to keep the weapons hidden beneath the scaffolding. ¡°Get into position. We¡¯re going to fight. Don¡¯t shoot unless I tell you to,¡± he whispered to the group. Elias suddenly called his name, ¡°Emil! I¡¯m a merciful man. I¡¯ll give you two options. Option one¡ªbring us Raz and we¡¯ll leave the rest of you alone. Option two¡ªwe bust this rotted gate down and slaughter everyone inside.¡± ¡°Any chance you¡¯ll be willing to change your mind? How about we trade and barter instead?¡± Emil asked, trying to buy time for the others to get to their posts.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not,¡± Elias answered, his eyes gleaming with madness, ¡°Now choose!¡± In the corner of his eyes, Emil saw Dale flash him the ready signal from the other tower. He closed his eyes. He swallowed his nerves. His heart screamed to his ears. Here it goes. ¡°I think I¡¯ll choose neither!¡± he shot up from his spot and raised his crossbow, ¡°Fire!¡± Mechanical clanks snapped from the drawstrings of a dozen crossbows. Iron bolts suddenly crowded the airspace, raining down upon the Red Fangs before the gates. The surprise attack was devastating¡ªthe bolts shredded the gang members apart like paper. Emil¡¯s attack went straight at Elias. The Red Fang leader looked befuddled, mouth agape as his men began to fall. Before the bolt could land however, one of the Red Fangs shoved him out of the way. The grunt took the attack head-on as the bolt plunged into their neck. ¡°Take cover!¡± Elias screamed while being dragged out of the line of fire. ¡°Keep firing! Aim to kill!¡± Emil ordered as he reloaded the crossbow. They had to down as many Red Fangs as possible. Their compound only housed thirty orphans. Half of them were too young and small to put up any resistance against a violent gang. They were severely outnumbered compared to the one hundred strong Red Fangs. ¡°Shields out! Bring the battering ram!¡± Elias called over the chaos. Half a dozen Red Fangs soon emerged from cover. In their hands were massive makeshift shields, affixed together from a mishmash of wood and metal that covered the length of their bodies. Behind the shield bearers, another group marched forward with a giant log. ¡°Aim at the ones carrying the logs!¡± Emil cried. He fired a bolt at the Red Fangs by the front of the battering ram. The shield bearers, however, had positioned themselves at the vanguard. The giant shields cut off the trajectory as Emil¡¯s bolt clanked off the surface. With the formidable shield wall leading the way, the battering ram slowly advanced towards the gate. ¡°Stop shooting!¡± Emil clicked his tongue. They were ready for us. There was no doubt. The battering ram and shields were prepared specifically to breach this gate. The Red Fang¡¯s frequent intrusion on their territory must have been to scout their defenses. They were always planning to invade. Raz¡¯s raid just gave them justification. ¡°Dale, Plan B!¡± Dale nodded gravely before descending the sentry tower. Emil fired a few more bolts at the battering ram carriers, trying to sneak a few shots through the gaps in the shield wall. ¡°Emil, I¡¯m ready!¡± The battering ram was nearly at the gate. ¡°Do it!¡± The ground suddenly shook at his command. The path to compound gate was a narrow passage flanked by remnants of scaffolding and partially constructed buildings. Emil had repurposed those remnants into collapsible structures. The Red Fangs glanced up in horror. A long, ominous creak echoed in the air, followed by a horrible crack as the scaffoldings along the path began to collapse. Wood and stone rained down, threatening to bury the Red Fangs beneath the rubble. Shrieks of terror filled the air. The log carriers immediately dropped the battering ram and dove out of the way. The shield bearers weren¡¯t so lucky. The bulky shields were difficult to discard and their weight made it impossible to escape with. Nearly all of the shield bearers were crushed. Dust and debris soon packed the air. Emil narrowed his eyes, examining the destruction. Ruins of the scaffolds crowded the passage, turning it into a quagmire of rubble. The battering ram was nowhere to be found, presumably buried somewhere beneath the destruction. A few bodies laid lifeless amidst the wreckage. But most of the Red Fangs managed to escape unscathed. The collapsible structures took out far fewer than he would have liked. There were still too many of them left to force the Red Fangs to retreat. Not good. They were currently at a stalemate, but for how long? Their supplies were limited. Meanwhile, the Red Fangs were free to stay put and form a blockade. As long as they were patient, Emil couldn¡¯t do anything to stop them. Elias must have arrived at the same conclusion. He immediately ordered the Red Fangs to move out of the vicinity of the gates. Most of their members lingered at the outskirts, just out of the range of the crossbows. The Red Fangs began to set up camp. Emil could only watch in frustration. Now what? *** ¡°How is he?¡± Mia asked. Emil removed the wet cloth placed over Bruno¡¯s forehead. The boy was still unconscious, whimpering something unintelligible. The surface of his skin remained hot, but the temperature had fallen a bit since the onset of his fever. ¡°I have no idea,¡± Emil admitted, grabbing a set of bandages, ¡°Maybe he¡¯s getting better. Or maybe his body is just giving up.¡± ¡°Emil?!¡± Her horrified shriek fell on deaf ears. Emil lifted Bruno¡¯s shirt and continued dabbing at the gruesome incision on his stomach. Mia did a good job. The bleeding had slowed and the wound no longer oozed pus at the slightest of pressures. ¡°Do we have more bandages?¡± he asked, tossing aside the dirty one in his hands. A pile of used cloth, stained in red and yellow, were stacked in the corner. The rancid smell no longer bothered him. ¡°Here,¡± Mia handed him another batch. Emil continued cleaning until he could no longer see yellow stains. Should I stitch him up for now? The incision was too deep and wide. Manual intervention was needed to help the wound heal. The issue was whether he had done enough to clean out the infection. I wish I knew a way to find out. Maybe I¡¯ll apply another coating of ointment just in case. For the stitches, I need a small fire to disinfect the needle. And alcohol¡ªdo we have any leftover? I think there should still be some, assuming none of the boys drank¡ª ¡°Emil.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± He shook his head; the sound of his name took him out of his thoughts. ¡°You should take a break.¡± Perplexed by the sudden comment, Emil raised his head. Mia was staring at him, frowning. Her eyes quivered with anxiety. ¡°You haven¡¯t eaten all day, right?¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± his stomach grumbled. Damn. He was outed before he could even think of a convincing lie. As if suddenly aware of its own impoverished state, his body spurred into action. Hunger pangs ravaged his stomach. The side of his head throbbed with a dull buzz. Emil slumped against the wall, suddenly awash with fatigue. ¡°Honestly, I can¡¯t remember.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t remember because it never happened,¡± she said, handing him two slices of salted jerky. Emil accepted them without complaint. He sank his teeth into rough texture, savagely ripping the chunks apart. The caustic flavor of oversalted meat flooded his mouth. The flavor was unpleasant, but he ate greedily, trying to ignore the harsh taste as he washed down the chewy bites. It was nearly evening. More than half a day had passed since the Red Fangs made camp on the outskirts of the compound. Emil kept a few people on rotation to monitor their activities. Several times the Red Fangs were caught trying to recover the buried battering ram. The sentries were ordered to keep them away with the crossbows. At this rate, we¡¯ll run out of ammunition before food. Without iron bolts for the crossbows, they had no other means of deterring the Red Fangs. A fight might be unavoidable at this rate. But we still need a way to deal with their numbers¡ª Footsteps thundered outside his dwelling. Frantic voices cut through the tense silence. A commotion. Soon enough, Emil heard his name being called. Mia rushed to her feet to open the door. Dale was at the entrance. ¡°The Red Fangs are moving again!¡± Chapter 4 - Expelled from paradise (4) Emil Emil rushed towards the gate. Dale trailed closely from behind. ¡°Are they going for the battering rams?¡± ¡°No idea! But the entire gang suddenly started running towards the gates!¡± The entire gang? Did they get impatient and decide to overwhelm us with numbers instead? It seemed unlikely. The move was too impulsive. It incurred too much casualties. Emil thought Elias was much more calculating given rumors of the Red Fang¡¯s turf wars. Throwing lives away to brute force his way through was not how he fought. What the hell are you planning, Elias? Barricades were already being set up as Emil and Dale ran pass towards the sentry towers. Raz was shouting in the background, rounding everyone into positions. Emil sprinted up the ladder¡ªhis lungs burning by the time he reached the top. The sentries on duty didn¡¯t seem to have noticed him. Whatever was happening beneath dominated their attention. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked. The two sentries spun around. Their eyes were wide, shaking in horror like they had just witnessed something incomprehensible. They mumbled, stuttering something incoherent while pointing their trembling hands at the path below. ¡°Move!¡± Emil shoved them aside. Below the sentry towers, the Red Fangs were desperately climbing over the rubble towards the gate. They kept glancing back¡ªshouting obscenities as if they were running away from something. The source of their fear seemed to be a single man. Alone. He was on the outskirts of the path, trudging slowly towards the Red Fangs. Emil shuddered. The hair on his skin rose. His mind stirred, suddenly overcome with an intense dread. He didn¡¯t understand why, but watching the man¡¯s ghoulish movements sent shivers down his spine. In the midst of his confusion, he noticed black lumps littered around the man¡¯s vicinity. There was a thick stench of char permeating the air¡ªinterwoven with a thick, fatty odour. It was not unlike meat being grilled on a firepit. It would be another second before he discovered how apt this comparison was. Wait, those are¡ª Emil covered his mouth. His stomach churned at the disturbing realization. It took every ounce of his willpower not to throw up. The black lumps around the man were corpses. Red Fang members. Dead. Incinerated until they were nearly unrecognizable. The man suddenly screamed. Emil winced, plugging his ears. The loud, harrowing screech didn¡¯t sound like something that could be made by a human. Without warning, orbs of flames flared into existence. They orbited around the man¡¯s body, flickering with an ominous incandescent glow. The man stomped forward. The flame orbs suddenly paused, hovering still as if frozen in time, before snapping towards the Red Fangs. Screams pierced the air. The unfortunate members clawed at their bodies as flames devoured them with glee. In just a few seconds, their cries abruptly stopped. With a quiet thud, they fell¡ªthe remains of their bodies collapsed into a pile of ash. Where did those flames come from? Emil forced himself to not dwell on the horrific sight. He scanned the surroundings. There was nothing that could explain what he just saw. There was no ignition source, no tinder, nothing that the man could use to produce scorching flames with his bare hands. It didn¡¯t make sense, unless¡ª The realization struck him like thunder. It was the only reasonable conclusion he could think of. He¡¯s an Exalted. Exalted were special individuals with otherworldly powers that couldn¡¯t be explained by logic. Emil didn¡¯t know much about them, except that appearance wise, they were indistinguishable from normal Ordinaries like himself. In the slums of Lower Dannan, the Exalted were a rarity¡ªtheir existence something of a passing legend that he would occasionally hear amidst whispers on the streets. Emil never paid much attention to those rumors¡ªthey always seemed so far-fetched that he was sure they were exaggerated. Seeing an Exalted up close, however, made him realize how wrong he was. If anything, the rumors downplayed what they could do. The remaining Red Fangs arrived at the foot of the gates. Emil glanced down, watching as they desperately banged against the door. The Exalted loomed close.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Open the damned gates!¡± It was Elias who yelled over the chaos. Their eyes met. Terror. Panic. The pleading glint in his gaze was unsettling. ¡°Emil! Let us through!¡± The Exalted continued his approach, now blocking off the exit out of the path that led to the compound. A deluge of burnt corpses laid in the wake of its rampage. Questions flared in Emil¡¯s head. Why was an Exalted here? Why was it doing all this? Was it seeking vengeance against the Red Fangs? As the Exalted got closer, however, Emil understood. Its eyes were blood-shot with madness. Its skin was warped and wrinkled, smeared with an ominous blue glow as its veins popped onto the surface. Its expression was terrifying¡ªits teeth bared like a feral beast; fangs protruded outwards, curved, tearing into its own jaws. Blood dripped from the self-inflicted wounds, drop by drop, leaving beneath a crimson trail. The thing was no longer human. Whatever rationality left in the person was long devoured by insanity. What remained was a monster on a warpath¡ªone that would not stop until it had burned itself out. ¡°¡­Tell everyone to evacuate,¡± Emil said. Dale and the sentries gawked at him, dumbfounded. ¡°Move! Tell everyone to leave! Now!¡± he screamed this time. The urgency in his voice jolted the boys out of their daze. ¡°A-Are you sure? What about the compound?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t defend it. Not against that thing.¡± Emil grimaced at his own words, staring at the Exalted. ¡°Use the emergency exit. Take whatever food you can grab. Leave everything else behind.¡± Most of it is going to be burned to ash anyways. He grabbed a crossbow from one of the sentry¡¯s hands. ¡°I¡¯m going to use the Red Fangs to buy us some time,¡± his voice shook as he uttered those horrific words, ¡°Now go!¡± Dale and the others scrambled down the sentry tower. Emil turned his attention back to the corridor. The Red Fangs began tossing themselves at the gate. The metal door creaked with a violent thud from every collision. Emil loaded his crossbow and took aim at the largest member below. His hands wobbled. His heart screamed with guilt. It has to be done. He imagined Mia, Raz, and Dale being engulfed by the raging inferno¡ªtheir screams piercing the air as their bodies melted to ash. The possibility of that reality was all he needed. I¡¯m sorry. He pulled the trigger. The crossbow clicked. The iron bolt soared through the air and plunged directly into the large teenager¡¯s neck. Blood spurted like a geyser as he collapsed. Emil immediately loaded the next bolt. His lack of hesitation startled him. The daily desperation to survive as an orphan eroded his sense of morality. These barbaric atrocities that he could have never fathomed himself doing, he now did so with ease. As long as it was to survive. As long as it was for his friends. As long as he could find the justification, he could do anything. ¡°Emil!¡± Elias yelled from the foot of the gates, ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Emil responded with a snap of his crossbow. Elias ducked as the bolt narrowly missed its mark. Something seemed to click in his head as his desperate gaze twisted with fury. ¡°You bastard!¡± Despair and resentment clouded his blood-shot eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you! I swear on it! Even if I¡¯m dead, I will not forget this!¡± Without warning, Elias spun around towards the Exalted. The monster in human form continued to dragged itself forward¡ªa low, guttural growl escaped its throat with every step. Elias raised his hands skyward. ¡°Come! We¡¯re breaking through! Follow me with the determination to die!¡± he screamed. The Red Fang members cried in response, rallying behind their leader¡¯s desperate last stand. Elias charged, brandishing the machete he held aloft. His men followed close, intent not to let their leader face the monstrosity alone. The Exalted paused, staring them down. Its eyes suddenly gleamed red. Emil watched as the space in the area began to vibrate, flickering with uncertainty as if it had a will of its own. Suddenly, a high-pitch ring buzzed in his ears. Emil felt a surge of hot air rush towards him. For a moment, the heat was almost uncomforting, like a warm embrace from an old friend. Then he saw white. *** When he came to, he found himself staring at the wretched sky. His vision blurred. The air was thick with smoke. His eyes watered, irritated by the ash and soot. He was on the ground somewhere. Flames cackled over the dull ring in his ears as they devoured every inch of his surroundings. Emil tried to pull himself up. His body, however, refused to cooperate. Huh? Confused, he glanced down. Oh. His lower half was a bloody mess. Most of his clothes had been incinerated to ash. The exposed skin beneath was on the verge of peeling from the intense heat. His left leg was disjointed¡ªbent so unnaturally that it was nearly pointing backwards. Did I fall from the sentry tower? Emil searched for the gate. He found the sentry towers engulfed by flames. The gate had been destroyed¡ªthe door blasted off into smithereens, the broken remnants just barely hanging onto the hinges. The Red Fangs were nowhere to be see. In the midst of all the rampaging flames, Emil saw the Exalted. Slowly, it limped towards him. Well, this is kind of terrible. He smirked at his own calmness. He already accepted his fate. Emil couldn¡¯t feel a single thing¡ªnot even the excruciating pain that have been screaming from his torn leg. Only a faint numbness frizzled along his body. His nerves must have been scorched by the heat. How long has it been since he ordered Dale to evacuate? He couldn¡¯t recall. Everything was a blur. As long as they made it out of here¡ª ¡°Emil!¡± He froze. Panic raced through his mind. Did he hear that correctly? Did someone call his name? No, I must be hallucinating. There¡¯s no way they¡ª ¡°Emil!¡± This time it was unmistakable. It was Raz¡¯s voice. Emil forced his desecrated body to turn around. His jaws dropped in disbelief. Raz was standing atop of the burning ruins of the compound. His face was blacked with soot. Lingering behind the veil of flames and smoke, Emil could make out silhouettes of the other children. He didn¡¯t want to believe it. Why?! WhyWhyWhyWhy?! Why are they still here?! His heart wailed. They should have evacuated ages ago. Emil turned around. The Exalted was suddenly alert, its head twisted towards Raz¡¯s direction. ¡°Leave! Run! Get out of here!¡± he tried to scream. But no sounds would come. His voice croaked. All he could produce were unintelligible gasps. Please! Go before it¡¯s too late! Raz and the others didn¡¯t understand, however. Suddenly, they were sprinting towards him, screaming his name frantically. No! No! No! Emil tried to wave them away, but it was already too late. Behind him, he could hear the Exalted cackling with glee. The last thing he saw was his friends devoured by flames. Chapter 5 - I am a monster Hortensia Hortensia observed the blazing ruins with casual nonchalance. The remnants of the smoldering flames continued to shriek in the background. They burned, eating away at the wooden structures with murderous glee. She furrowed her nostrils¡ªslightly irked at the nauseating smoke suffocating the area. She heard rumors that the abandoned lumbermill in Lower Dannan had been seized by a group of miscreants some time ago. Confirming it firsthand allowed her to archive one of the many thoughts that occasionally gnawed in the back of her subconscious. How unfortunate, she mused as she glanced at the pile of ashen corpses littered along the ruins. Judging by their sizes, they must have been children. Despite the hellish scene before her eyes, Hortensia¡¯s gaze remained unperturbed. Not a single ounce of horror or disgust¡ªnot even a reaction could be seen across her indifferent face. For her, observing this tragedy was just the hallmark of another day of work. A small part of her job. Another part of her job was punishing misbehavior. Hortensia lowered her gaze. The source of the conflagrations around her was lying flat on the ground, bathing in a pool of his own blood. A crimson line had been drawn across his neck, severing the head from the rest of his body. Despite being dead, the skin of the Exalted¡¯s corpse continued to radiate a faint azure blue. It was a visual symptom of Overclocking¡ªa phenomenon where an Exalted goes mad due to excessive exposure to mana. Insanity, delusions, and a compulsion towards extreme violence were common side effects. An Exalted that was Overclocked could no longer be considered human. Due to their capacity for destruction and a complete loss of rationality, they were classified as natural disasters that must be swiftly eliminated. Failure to do so led to the carnage before her eyes. Hortensia felt a tinge of regret. If she had been faster to respond, then perhaps¡ª Footsteps. The crunch of rubble being trampled and kicked aside echoed behind her. Hortensia tilted her head back. It was a young man dressed in all black. His face blemished by ash. His teeth clenched, rattling as if he was barely able to hold his composure. On the ground in front of him were three unconscious bodies. ¡°Van, what¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Survivors,¡± Van replied, before shaking his head, ¡°Surviving, rather. Two of them appear to be in critical condition. I¡¯m not sure if they¡¯ll live.¡± Amidst the three, there was a young girl encased in soot. Beside her was a tall male, roughly in his mid-teens. His body was almost entirely black, covered in third-degree burns¡ªhis face unrecognizable. The last person was a younger male. Coagulated blood drenched his lower half. His legs and joints appeared to be mutilated from blunt trauma. ¡°And?¡± Hortensia asked, ¡°What are you planning to do with these three?¡± Van flinched, flabbergasted by the question, ¡°H-Huh?! Save them, of course! Surely, we have to do something to help¡ª¡± ¡°Van,¡± she cut him off. Her eyes were unbearably cold. ¡°Your job as an agent of Steiger is not to save the lives of orphaned miscreants. There are much better uses of your time.¡± ¡°Director!¡± he protested. ¡°Root out corruption. Eliminate Desperados. Maintain the status quo. The three mandates of Steiger,¡± she said sternly, ¡°It¡¯s only for those three reasons why you¡¯re allowed to stand before me.¡± Van grimaced. His hands had balled into fists, shaking with indignation as he was backed into a corner. Hortensia smirked, slightly awed by the young man¡¯s earnestness. ¡°Give me a compelling reason why we should save these orphans,¡± she offered him an out. ¡°Do we need a reason to help those in need?¡± he hissed. ¡°Yes. Steiger isn¡¯t a charity. It¡¯s an organization with limited personnel, limited resources, and limited time. It does not make decisions or take actions that produce no value. And so, tell me,¡± Hortensia demanded, ¡°what''s the value in saving these orphans?¡± Van¡¯s answer, however, went beyond her expectations. ¡°¡­Article 5, Passage 4 of the Ardair Code of Laws,¡± Van began to recite, ¡°The rights of children are upheld by their membership to a registered household. In other words¡ª¡± Van¡¯s eyes darkened with resentment. ¡°¡ªorphans have no rights.¡± His voice trembled as he spat out those disgusting words. With great difficulty, he beckoned towards the three lying on the ground. ¡°By law, they are not even considered human. They can be treated like livestock. You can do whatever you please with them. No matter how nefarious, how disgusting, how evil your actions are. Not even the King himself can protest. That is their value.¡± Hortensia stared at Van in stunned silence. This kid¡­ Finally, she burst into laughter. Her joyous cackles echoed over the burning remnants of the ruined compound. ¡°Is this your idea of saving them, Van? To treat them like a livestock?¡± Hortensia wiped away the tears from her laughter. Van¡¯s words gave her an idea. ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll humor your request,¡± she said as her eyes lit up with a dangerous glint, ¡°Just don¡¯t complain about your decision later.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Van snapped. ¡°Really? I wonder,¡± Hortensia mused, ¡°After it¡¯s all said and done, will they thank you or resent you for forcing them to live?¡± Van crouched down to cradle the unconscious children. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter to me. Both sentiments are fine," he said, staring at their damaged bodies, "Just as long as they live.¡± ***This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Emil He remembered the first time he heard news of his parents¡¯ passing. It was a bright, sunny day. A gentle breeze caressed his face. He was in the patio, surrounded by the fresh fragrance of roses, lost in another leather-bound book found in his father¡¯s study. And then suddenly, there was a commotion. At first, Emil was annoyed at the cacophony disturbing his reading. But as footsteps thundered towards him, he glanced up. The head butler was staring at him with a pained expression. His mouth clenched. His eyes narrowed, trembling at the edges. Emil instantly knew it was about his parents. His mother and father were merchants, and they immersed themselves in their work. As a result, Emil was often left alone on the family estate during their business trips. He passed the time lost in books, learning about the world, fantasizing stories of great heroes¡ªoblivious to the concept of loneliness. At a young age, his head was already crammed with a treasure trove of knowledge. But there was nothing in those books that could have prepared him to receive this news. *** The distant memory passed. Emil found himself staring at darkness. He tried to pry his eyes open, but his body remained unresponsive. He couldn¡¯t discern whether he was blindfolded or had lost the use of his eyes. A dull, floating sensation enveloped his body. It was disorienting, foreign, as if he was a phantom trapped in another¡¯s vessel. Gradually, his mind began to clear. He could feel the hard surface protruding beneath the arch of his back. His limbs had been stretched outwards. He tried to move them. There was a bit resistance¡ªsomething had bound his wrist and ankles. Then, voices. They sounded disembodied, shrouded in harsh whispers and faint murmurs. He didn¡¯t realize it until he strained to make out their words, but his ears were ringing. The faint, high-pitch hum in the background was annoyingly persistent. ¡°¡­Are you sure, Director?¡± ¡°Yes. Certain.¡± Two distinct voices spoke in his vicinity. One was wrapped in uncertainty. The other, cold and callous. ¡°But this is untested! Even if it¡¯s legal, the ethics of it¡ª¡± ¡°He¡¯s fated to die at this point, no?¡± ¡°¡­Yes.¡± ¡°Then proceed. You¡¯re just doing your best to save a child¡¯s life.¡± The words perplexed him. A child¡¯s life. It took a few seconds for Emil to understand. ¡­Me? The question flicked a switch in his head. Memories suddenly poured in. The darkness in his field of view turned nauseatingly bright. Red, brilliant flames raged in his surroundings. The inferno spread violently throughout the compound, swallowing up everything in its path. The safe haven¡ªthe home that he had worked so hard to build crumbled to ashes in an instant. Emil remembered being helpless on the ground. His body scorched by the Exalted¡¯s flames. His legs destroyed from falling off the sentry tower. Raz and the other children running towards him, oblivious. The Exalted behind him shrieking like a ravenous monster. And then his friends¡ª Screaming. Oh right. Everyone¡¯s dead. The next thing he heard was people yelling into his ears. ¡°He¡¯s convulsing!¡± ¡°Hold him down!¡± ¡°Hurry up and administer the aid, dammit!¡± Something sharp stabbed into the side of his neck. Emil felt a throbbing pain as the weight holding down his body intensified. Suddenly, his mind felt heavy. The frantic voices in the background gradually dimmed¡ªsubdued, until he could no longer hear them any longer. *** He woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. Emil shot up in a panic. Cold sweat drenched his back. His chest heaved as he twisted his head around to make sense of his surroundings. He was in a narrow room. The faint stench of antiseptics permeated the air. There were white candle lights above him, flickering, radiating an odd clandestine feel. On the desk beside him was a cup filled with water. Suddenly aware of his thirst, Emil reached for it, throwing caution to the wind. He drank greedily, indulging in the relief from his parched throat. The water helped clear his mind. What¡¯s going on? Where am I? The events in the compound flashed in his head. His heart raced, but he shook off the terrifying memories. Not yet. He vaguely remembered disembodied voices surrounding him. The room was empty, however. His recollections ended there. ¡°¡­Hello?¡± he reluctantly called out. Someone must have brought him here from the compound. ¡°Anyone there?¡± Silence. I should investigate. He stepped off the bed. Something gnawed at the back of his mind. Wait a minute. He glanced down. His leg, which had been mangled beyond recovery from the fall, had been healed back to normal. But more than that, the lower half of his torso was covered in patches of discolored skin. Stitches marked the boundaries of the mismatched skin tones, making his body resemble patchwork. What the hell happened to my body? ¡°Emil Engel.¡± A disembodied voice suddenly echoed in the air. Emil spun around, startled. But there was no one else in the room with him. ¡°Son of the owners of the Engel Merchant Company. Now an orphan.¡± The voice belonged to a woman. Cold, callous, devoid of compassion. As he regained his composure, Emil realized the voice was reverberating near the ceiling. ¡°I have two children with me. One is a tall male in his mid-teens. Another is a young girl with a plain face. I found them where I found you. I presume you know who they are?¡± Raz and Mia! ¡°Yes! I-I think so!¡± Emil screamed, desperate. The knowledge that he might not be the only survivor gave him hope. ¡°Are they alive?!¡± ¡°For now.¡± The room suddenly shook. Emil leapt back in horror. Something massive slammed against the walls. ¡°If you want them to survive, then show me your worth,¡± the voice said, dripping with ominous intent. ¡°Worth? What do you mean?¡± Emil stammered. The walls shook again. He swore he heard a low growl on the other side. ¡°H-Hey!¡± Silence. Whoever spoke to him was no longer interested in responding. Crunch! The wall caved in. The wooden structure was torn apart. A hideous beast, towering over six feet tall on all fours, stomped into the room. Emil froze. His instincts screamed. The beast growled, grunting in a deep bellow. Its snout quivered. The pair of bloodshot eyes zeroed in on him, gleaming with desire. The beast suddenly charged. It rushed in on all fours as it threw itself at Emil. Its jaws opened, monstrous fangs bared, dripping with spittle. Emil watched as its shadow loomed close. Death beckoned. He dove to the left. The beast¡¯s front claws narrowly grazed the side of his legs, carving a long crimson line down along his shins. Emil clenched his teeth. The burning pain was agonizing. He glanced down¡ªblood cascaded down his leg as parts of his skin and flesh were ripped off by the scratch. There was nowhere to run. I have to kill it. Heat suddenly radiated from his chest. It was uncomfortable, like a sealed cauldron on the verge of boiling, begging to explode. The beast spun around, screeching in delight at the scent of blood. Emil felt the heat intensify. He grabbed his chest. The discomfort grew unbearable, his body temperature continued to rise as if responding to his violent thoughts. His fingers and legs began to convulse¡ªhis body rapidly descending out of his control. The beast lunged. ¡°Ahhhhh!¡± Emil screamed. Energy crackled in his vicinity. The air snapped with a distinctive pop, before everything suddenly flashed into a maelstrom of flames. Emil winced, curled up in panic¡ªmemories of the compound¡¯s destruction still fresh in his mind. It took the stench of burnt flesh for him to look up. The charred remains of the beast stood in front of him, a ghastly sight as its melting flesh peeled off its boned carcass. The entire room was set ablaze. Flames danced ravenously as it fed on the building material. The sight was heart-wrenchingly familiar. ¡°Well done. You might be of some use,¡± the woman¡¯s voice suddenly echoed once more. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Emil asked, confused by the vague words. Alarmed, he stared at his hands. Wisps of flames flickered in his palms. He pulled his hands back, startled. The flames, however, followed his movements. They felt hot, but not as scalding as expected. I did this? His healed leg. The patchwork of skin littered across his torso. The conversation he overheard between the two disembodied voices. ¡°N-No. Wait¡­¡± Scenes of the compound collapsing flashed in his head. His friends burned to ash. The Exalted squealed in delight at the destruction. He connected the dots. The realization sunk in. Emil screamed in horror, ¡°What have you done to me?!¡± He had become the monster that he feared. Chapter 6 - The Cleaner Nordica was one of the three major provinces in the Kingdom of Ardair. The northern half of the province was covered in treacherous mountains hiding rich mineral veins and troves of rare earth minerals. Its southern half was more tropical and diverse, blessed with meandering lakes, vibrant forests and arable flatlands suitable for farming. The capital city of Nordica, Dannan, was located at the frontier of these two halves. Unofficially, it was called the City of Metals due to its massive industrial district built on metallurgy and metalworking. It was estimated that over ninety percent of kingdom¡¯s metals and minerals pass through the city at some point during its circulation. Dannan was a city of two faces. Its upper district housed the royal family, along with a number of powerful noble houses and wealthy institutions. But its lower districts were sprawling with slums, mired in poverty and violent crimes. The ruling class had no interest in policing these areas. Thugs, criminals, and orphans proliferated these parts of the city¡ªall individuals who had no income and assets to tax, and therefore, devoid of value. With the absence of a police force to enforce the laws, the slums of Lower Dannan became the home of several powerful crime syndicates who ruled the area with an iron fist. For the longest time, they were allowed to do as they pleased. *** Ronny Ronny leaned back against his chair, indulging in the fragrant smell of aged scotch in his hands. His mind danced with a light buzz as he admired the view on his shelf. A vivid collection of skulls from various animals lined the rows, adorned in dazzling jewels and colorful paint. He grinned, basking in the drunken glow, satisfied¡ªuntil a slight itch in his nostrils knocked him out of his bliss. Irritated, Ronny opened the drawers and tossed a pouch of white powder onto his marble desk. Opium¡ªcultivated and produced on the ground floors of this facility that he operated on behalf of the Grenze syndicate. Just one whiff of this fine product would send him into an indulgent realm filled with the most wonderful fantasies. He opened the pouch with one hand, ready to go under¡ªwhen all hell broke loose. ¡°Boss!¡± The door to his office slammed open with such force that Ronny nearly fell off his chair. With as much dignity as he could muster, he composed himself and sat back upright, while trying to ignore the scotch dripping from his stained wool vest. ¡°What?¡± he snapped, not bothering to hide his anger. Normally, he would have already called for the head of the person who just barged in without warning¡ªif not for the fact this person was wearing the vest of his personal bodyguards. The guard who intruded had a boyish face at the frontier of adolescence and adulthood. A few nasty scars smeared along the curvature of his jaws, tainting his youthful face with a savage look. His eyes were large; their dark bluish hue gave off the impression of someone intelligent. His hair, jet-black and coarse, nearly dangled to his shoulders¡ªabnormally long for a man. Ronny narrowed his eyes, trying to fight off the effects of the alcohol. What was his name again? The guard was one of the newer recruits. Apparently, he made quite the impression during his evaluation. ¡°¡­Miles, was it? You better have a good reason for barging in unannounced.¡± ¡°Yes, Boss! The facility is currently under attack!¡± Fuck. Ronny shot up from his seat, kicking off the wool vest wet with scotch. Miles¡¯s words snapped him out of his stupor. Now that he was alert, he could hear the chaos rampaging outside the office. ¡°Who¡¯s attacking?!¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Just one person. An Exalted,¡± Miles said, oddly calm, ¡°We think it might be a Cleaner.¡± Ronny froze. The mere mention of the word made his blood run cold. ¡°Y-You idiot! Shit! Why didn¡¯t you tell me sooner?!¡± His hands were trembling uncontrollably as he rushed out of the office in a panic. Why the hell is one of Steiger¡¯s hounds here?! Ronny mumbled obscenities as he tried to figure out the next course of action. He was at the basement level of his drug-manufacturing facility. As one of the executives of the Grenze syndicate, it was his job to oversee the syndicate¡¯s money-making operations. His focus was opium processing and distribution. This facility was one of the largest under his purview. If a Cleaner is here, then this place is as good as gone. The Cleaners were a special task force under Steiger¡¯s command, notorious amongst the syndicates for their brutality. Colloquially, they were called Steiger¡¯s hounds. Each one of them was apparently an Exalted. Ronny never encountered one himself, but he had no intention of discovering if the rumors were true. It¡¯s a shame that I¡¯ll lose three months of shipment, but¡ª he shook off his regrets. There was no amount of money in this world that can buy him a second chance at life. ¡°We¡¯re moving to the escape route!¡± he said to Miles as he ran down the corridor. The occasion echo of destruction thundered from the upper levels of the facility. Ronny winced with every cling and clank, imagining his precious facility get ripped apart into pieces. Steadily, the sounds grew louder. The Cleaner was getting close. ¡°Boss, you¡¯re here!¡± Footsteps rumbled from the other end of the corridor. There were three men, out of breath and drenched in sweat. Ronny recognized them as his other guards. ¡°What¡¯s the status on the Cleaner?¡± ¡°He¡¯s sweeping the entire upper levels. It won¡¯t be long before he finds this place.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s go! We¡¯re escaping to the tunnels!¡± The opening to escape hatch was just up ahead. Ronny had already mapped their route in his head. The hatch led to the underground sewers of Dannan. Its sprawling networks of tunnels and passages was as disorienting as a labyrinth. Someone who was unfamiliar with its layout would get lost immediately. I¡¯ll need to inform the other executives. Steiger is raiding our¡ª The ceiling above and in front of him suddenly caved in. Ronny felt a hand on his shoulders dragging him back¡ªjust as black tendrils descended from the opening. The shadowy projections snapped down like spikes, resounding with a powerful crunch as they stabbed into the floor of the basement. Immediately, the tendrils retracted. Ronny broke out in cold sweat. Massive, horrific claw marks were left on the floor layered in concrete. If his guards had pulled him back a second later, then he would have been eviscerated. Someone dropped from the ceiling. It was a man covered in an ebon cloak. His mouth was shrouded by a black cloth, weaved with the grotesque drawing of a hound¡¯s fangs. The Cleaner. His guards immediately went on the offensive. Knives and machetes were unsheathed. Without an ounce of hesitation, they lunged at their foe. ¡°Cleave.¡± Ronny¡¯s eyes went wide. Black tendrils ruptured from the Cleaner¡¯s shadow. Squelch! The speed was lightning fast. Ronny couldn¡¯t even follow the trajectory. It was only when he heard the horrific sound of flesh and bone being torn apart that he realized the attacks landed. He stared, mouth agape, dumbfounded. His guards had been bisected vertically by the shadowy claws. Blood exploded like a fountain as their bodies split into halves, collapsing into a grotesque puddle of entrails. M-Monster¡­ ¡°Boss, get back!¡± Miles was still beside him. The young man bravely stepped forward to face the Cleaner. Ronny fell on his knees in despair. W-What can you even do?! The bloodied remains of his guards painted a gruesome picture. In the face of the Cleaner¡¯s overwhelming Gift, the young man won¡¯t even be able to buy him time to escape. ¡°Such a heartwarming sight,¡± the Cleaner suddenly said, tearing off the cloth covering his mouth. The man had a plain appearance, sullied only by the playful smirk smeared across his face. Slowly, he approached, his footsteps echoed menacingly across the corridor. ¡°Ronny Kroller. An executive of the Grenze syndicate. Your offenses are almost too long to list. Violent crimes. Production of illegal substances. Distribution of illegal substances. But the most heinous of them all¡ª¡± the Cleaner giggled, ¡°¡ªTax evasion. That one is just unforgiveable, don¡¯t you think?¡± Ronny stood there, frozen. There was nothing for him to say. If the destruction of his facility wasn¡¯t enough, the Cleaner had taken off his mask, revealing his appearance. The Cleaners did all of Steiger¡¯s dirty work. As such, their identities were a closely guarded secret. He would not leave this place alive. ¡°Lower Dannan might become a better place freed of your existence,¡± the Cleaner said, ¡°So, convince me. Is there a reason why I should let you live?¡± H-He¡¯s giving me a chance? Ronny glanced up. His eyes brimmed with a desperate hope. ¡°I¡­I can¡ª¡± Something hot ruptured from his neck. Ronny felt the warm, sticky rain of blood splutter out of his body. He choked, gargling, suddenly unable to speak. Huh? The attack came not from the Cleaner in front of him, but to his left. Slowly, he turned. Miles was staring him down. In his right hand was a blood-stained knife. His deep blue eyes gleamed dispassionately¡ªcold as the abyss. Ronny¡¯s consciousness waned. I see. I got played. Chapter 7 - Wishes that should never be said Emil Ronny¡¯s greasy body flopped to the ground with a loud thud. Dead. The look of horror in his final moments suited him well. Emil tossed aside the blood-stained knife his hands. The warm, viscous sensation of the Grenze executive¡¯s blood on his fingers felt gross. He took a deep breath and brushed aside the irately long hair dangling across his face. Finally, this disgusting job was coming to an end. ¡°Hello, Emil.¡± The Cleaner greeted him with a large smile, his tone bright and cheery as if the two of them were meeting at a tavern for drinks. Instead, they were currently in the foul basement floors of a drug facility, surrounded by a sea of gore. ¡°Van,¡± Emil said, frowning at the Cleaner¡¯s attitude. The man in front of him was his senior in the Steiger organization. ¡°It¡¯s been three weeks. I¡¯m glad to see that you¡¯re well. However¡ª¡± Van¡¯s voice suddenly dropped. His nonchalance disappeared. His eyes gleamed with murderous pressure. ¡°¡ªwhy did you kill Ronny? I don¡¯t remember giving you the clearance.¡± In the corner of his eyes, Emil caught the top of the black tendrils writhing at the edge of Van¡¯s shadows. His Gift beckoned, eagerly awaiting as if it had a will of its own, threatening to shoot out at a moment''s notice. Emil clicked his tongue. What a farce. ¡°It¡¯s because you were taking too damn long.¡± ¡°¡­Huh?¡± ¡°If your objective was to kill him, then do it quickly, you sadistic freak,¡± Emil complained. Van narrowed his eyes. ¡°I never said anything about killing him. What if I needed to interrogate Ronny for information?¡± ¡°Then you would have started torturing him instead of playing with your food,¡± Emil spat, ¡°Stop fucking with me, Van. I know this is your idea of a stupid prank. I don¡¯t have the patience for this right now.¡± At his urging, the bloodlust in the air suddenly vanished. The tendrils poking out of Van¡¯s shadow disappeared. Realizing his ruse was exposed, Van inexplicably puffed out his face and stomped the floor cutely, pretending to throw a childish tantrum. ¡°But c¡¯mon, Emil! He was a villainous bastard! Don¡¯t you want to see his hideous, arrogant face all terrified, shaking, stuttering, and begging to live?! It¡¯s so amusing to hear the excuses they come up with!¡± Ugh. Emil grimaced, suddenly remembering how draining it was to deal with his senior. Van was a frivolous man with perverse tendencies. He was probably normal once, until his time with Steiger inevitably twisted him into the clown he was today. If the kingdom knew that Steiger employed fools like him, the entire organization would lose all of its mystique and infamy. Van burst into laughter. Emil¡¯s disgust must have been written across his face. ¡°Oh, how I missed your hilarious reactions, Emil,¡± he said as he wiped the joyous tears leaking from his eyes, ¡°Anyways, if you knew I was coming, why didn¡¯t you just kill him to begin with?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was you,¡± Emil sighed, ¡°The witch didn¡¯t tell me anything. I had no idea that there was even supposed to be a raid today. I held back in case she wanted Ronny alive.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Van nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Good work. You made it easy for me to find you by emitting mana.¡± Emil shrugged him off. ¡°It¡¯s standard procedure. You don¡¯t need to praise me for it.¡± ¡°Wow, how cool.¡± Emil rolled his eyes. ¡°If that¡¯s all, then I¡¯m leaving.¡± Van¡¯s silence gave him the clearance to leave. Emil immediately turned around and made his way towards the staircase leading to the facility¡¯s ground level. He had been stuck in this place for the past three weeks, masquerading as Ronny¡¯s body guard. The horrific things that he had to overlook and endure to maintain his cover nearly drove him insane. He was sick of it. He just wanted to go home. *** Mia Mia glanced at the clock. One hour past midnight. The tavern had already emptied itself¡ªeven the last of its unruly patrons had stumbled home in their drunken stupor.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. She sat down by the countertop, alone, soaking in the somber candlelight. And waited. The rhythmic sway of the pendulum clock quietly ticked away in the background. After the silence grew unbearable, she let out a disappointed sigh. Guess he¡¯s not coming home today either. Mia stood up and walked towards the pile of dirty bowls and cups hidden beneath the countertop. She needed something to distract herself. Something to occupy her hands. Something to pry her mind away from the resurging memories of that terrible day. Four years had passed since the incident that took away the lives of all their friends at the compound. Mia was fifteen now. Her hair grew long. Her body matured. The boyish looks that she was insecure about vanished as she blossomed into a respectable young lady. But her time remained still¡ªtrapped in the gruesome tragedy. Why? She couldn¡¯t understand it. Why did they get caught up by that Exalted¡¯s rampage? Why was her home destroyed? Why did her friends meet such a disturbing end? Did they do something wrong? Was that an act of divine punishment? Emil told her over and over again that it was all just bad timing. A coincidence, borne from a random series of unfortunate events. Mia couldn¡¯t accept that. It felt too cruel, too indifferent, too cold. There had to be a reason. There had to be someone to blame. There had to be. Clink! Her eyes grew wide, horrified. The glass plate that she was cleaning suddenly had a long crack running down the middle. Most of the tableware used in this tavern were made from wood or clay. The few glassware available were reserved for serving guests of high status. Glassware was absurdly expensive, but infinitely more brittle and fragile. In the midst of her thoughts, Mia lost track of what she was cleaning. Dammit, the owner is going to chew me out for this. She groaned, dreading the inevitable conversation. The tavern door suddenly crept out. ¡°Sorry, we¡¯re close¡ª¡± She froze. The rest of the words remained on her tongue unspoken. She stared blankly at the visitor. Jet black hair, long enough to his shoulders. A boyish face with glimpses of scars lined across his jaws. Dark bags crowded beneath his large eyes¡ªdeep in opulent blue as he stared at her sheepishly. The next thing she knew she was in his arms. Mia dove into his chest. The warm feeling of his body was blissfully comfortable. Familiar. ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± she finally said. ¡°Sorry, Mia,¡± Emil replied. His gentle voice danced in her ears. ¡°I¡¯m home.¡± *** After a few minutes of embracing in silence, Mia finally let him go. Emil took a seat by the countertop. Mia brought him a cup and fetched one of the unopened bottles on display. Unprompted, she poured him a drink. As the barmaid, she was no stranger to the detriments of alcohol. Yet even so, sometimes a bit of poison healed more than any remedy. Emil drank slowly, letting the bitter taste quench his throat. Mia watched him with a faint smile. He had grown noticeably thinner since he left for his assignment three weeks ago. She reached out to grab the coarse strands of hair dangling to his shoulders. I should give him a haircut. And feed him well. He eventually set the cup down. A pensive look drawn on his face. ¡°How¡¯s Raz?¡± he finally asked. Mia flinched. The candlelight flickered hesitantly. Couldn¡¯t this have waited till tomorrow? She didn¡¯t want him to ask about Raz. Not yet at least. He just got home. It was already late into the night. Emil, however, didn¡¯t seem content to wait. After a brief silence, she gave in, gathering the courage to respond, ¡°He¡¯s not great.¡± Emil¡¯s eyes grew wide. Mia felt her chest was going to explode. ¡°Show me.¡± Reluctantly, she led Emil to the second floor of the tavern. There were three rooms at the end of the hallway that the owner had set aside for them as part of their contract. Mia opened the farthest door to the right. She was immediately assaulted by the faint, astringent smell of antiseptics and smoky incense. She placed down a candlewick by the entrance. At the back of the room was a tall man lying prone on a bed. Raz. He was covered in bandages from head to toe. The exposed areas of his body were mired in patches of red. He was still, almost unmoving. It wouldn¡¯t have been unreasonable to think he was dead, if not for the occasional rise and dip of his chest. They were staring at the only other survivor of that terrible tragedy. ¡°¡­He¡¯s spending more time unconscious these days. And when he¡¯s awake, he¡¯s rarely lucid,¡± Mia explained as tears gathered in her eyes, ¡°He keeps screaming. I think he¡¯s reliving what happened on that day.¡± Emil shook his head. ¡°I thought the medicine was supposed to help with that.¡± ¡°We¡¯re running low. I¡¯ve been rationing the dosage¡ª¡± ¡°Mia!¡± he suddenly shouted. His eyes were frantic, spittle flying in the air as he continued to yell, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me earlier? I would have gotten more!¡± Stop. ¡°¡­How am I supposed to do that?¡± Her lips quivered. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. Please don¡¯t speak anymore. ¡°You¡¯re not home.¡± He doesn¡¯t need to hear this! ¡°And I never know when you¡¯ll be back¡­¡± She immediately regretted saying those words as soon as she saw Emil¡¯s face twist in horror. His eyes went wide. His jaws dropped as if he couldn¡¯t believe what he had just done. The apologies came next. Mia closed her eyes. She knew that Emil didn¡¯t mean it. He had just returned from his assignment. He was exhausted. Emotions were high. The three of them were the sole survivors of that tragedy. And because they were orphans, they only had each other to rely on. Losing Raz meant losing one of their last family members. She knew that Emil was trying his best to give the two of them a better life. She didn¡¯t understand the full extent of his job¡ªonly that he looked increasingly tortured each time he returned from an assignment. Whatever he was doing ate him alive. And he only endured because of her and Raz. Mia glared at Raz¡¯s sleeping body. Her heart shrieked with guilt at the nasty thoughts spiraling in her head. Words that she would never dare to speak aloud. I know it¡¯s wrong of me to think this way. She recalled the fond memories that the three of them shared in the past¡ªlaughing, telling stories, eating food before drifting asleep in each other¡¯s warmth. But sometimes I really wished¡ª Over time, those warm memories were slowly replaced by the cold, lonely nights of changing Raz¡¯s bandages, cleaning him from his own excrement, and sobbing to herself by his beside. The endearing feelings that she held towards him quietly changed to bitter resentment. ¨Cyou didn¡¯t survive that day. Chapter 8 - This bountiful opportunity Hortensia A single candle illuminated the modest office. Hortensia leaned back against her chair, soaking in the umbral night. It was quiet. The night breeze from the tiny slit in her window brushed the back of her neck. Chilly. She inhaled, taking a whiff of the cigar in her hand. The foul scent gave her clarity and a strange wave of relief. She glanced down, finally feeling ready to tackle the mountain of papers stacked on her desk. When she accepted this job as the Director of Steiger, she thought she would continue to spend most of her time out in the field¡ªsolving Exalted related crimes, hunting down Desperados, and investigating corruption amongst Ardair¡¯s ruling class. Instead, her days were mostly trapped in this office, sifting through the endless amount of paperwork. Strategies and operations¡ªthat¡¯s what her predecessor called it. Her job was not to be the hound, but to be the one leading the hounds. Feeding them, training them, and assigning them targets to hunt. Hortensia thought she was ill-suited for this sort of work, but her predecessor apparently judged otherwise. Evidently, they were onto something as Steiger continued to run smoothly under her command. Lately, however, things were spiraling out of control. Hortensia narrowed her eyes on the report in front of her. The header was marked in red¡ªan indication that this one demanded her full attention. Emergency Missive ¨C Immediate Action Required A shipment of Azurite designated for House Belle was ambushed last night at two hours after midnight. The rough location of the attack is north of the Lower Dannan outskirts, near the forested path. The shipment was taking the usual route for Azurite deliveries to the Rosales province. All assigned delivery staff were killed, including the two Steiger agents assigned for escort. Notable suspects include a Desperado wielding an eastern style blade. They were accompanied by a battalion-sized militia. Identity of the militia is unconfirmed, but suspected to be one of the three large syndicates in Lower Dannan. The stolen Azurite cache is also likely to be in their possession. The missive ended abruptly with the insignia of the royal family stamped at the bottom. ¡°¡­They killed two of my men,¡± Hortensia sighed, lamenting the loss. Finding personnel was a never-ending struggle. Exalted were in high demand and she was constantly competing against noble families and wealthy institutions for a small pool of candidates. Since Steiger dealt with Exalted related crimes and investigating corruption, Hortensia found herself in a never-ending arms race against the ruling class for Exalted talent. This isn¡¯t just something I can put off. The matter of a stolen Azurite cache was a national security risk. The royal family would be watching this incident closely. Hortensia massaged her temples, feeling the onset of a headache. She stared at her records detailing the roster of agents she currently had on stand by. Two names stood out. ¡°He¡¯s going to hate me for this.¡± Her mouth curved into an uneasy smile. *** Emil The cold touch of iron brushed against the side of his head. Emil ignored it¡ªhis attention drawn to the mechanical alarm clock in his hands. Broken. The arms of the clock had stopped ticking. Curious, he pried open the back and examined the tiny nocks and crannies of the device. The spring coil must be broken. He had a habit of tinkering and trying to fix the various broken tools and objects littered around the tavern. It kept his hands busy and his restless mind occupied. A tendency from his time at the compound. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed his face. ¡°Hey, stay still!¡± Emil obliged. Snip! A bundle of his jet-black hair fell onto his shoulders, brushing lightly against his neck. After the cut was done, Emil looked back down¡ªuntil he was interrupted once more. ¡°Can. This. Wait?¡± Mia asked, visibly irate, her eyes furrowed with a dangerous glint. In her right was a pair of scissors. In her left was his chin, forcing him to look up. Emil cautiously eyed the scissors in his periphery. The iron blades were strikingly sharp, not dissimilar to the knives that he would wield on the job. ¡°Sorry.¡± He obediently placed the clock down by the window sill. Dim morning light leaked through the glass. A cloudy day. ¡°I¡¯m trying to give you a haircut, Emil.¡± Snip! ¡°I don¡¯t think you realize how ridiculous you look!¡± Snip! ¡°Thanks,¡± Emil smiled uneasily. He agreed¡ªhe did look like an unsavory character. It was an intentional part of his disguise that enabled him to infiltrate the Grenze syndicate. Now that the job was over, however, it became a burden to maintain. ¡°I just wanted to fix things around the tavern before the witch drags me back.¡± ¡°I thought you had at least two weeks off. That was the standard, no?¡± That was before things got hectic. ¡°Yeah, but the witch has a fetish for breaking promises. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she¡ª¡± Thud! He spun towards the unusual sound. There was a pigeon perched outside their window. Suddenly, it began pecking at the glass. Emil noticed the small bundle of parchment attached to its legs. You¡¯ve got to be joking. *** It wasn¡¯t a joke. It was a summon from the damn witch. Emil stomped out of the tavern, furious. His boots grinded against the coarse metallic flakes littered on the ground. The tavern where Mia and him stayed was located on the outskirts of Lower Dannan¡¯s infamous industrial district. Dawn barely broke¡ªthe sun just managing to peek over the dense clouds. Despite that, he could already hear the distinct clank of hammers striking against anvil reverberating in the background. Smoke boomed from the buildings in the vicinity, emitting noxious fumes from the bellowing blast furnaces. Horses trotted across the roads, pulling wagons filled with metal ores. Emil winced as they passed by. The foul, sour stench of sulfur carried by the wagons prickled his nose and made his eyes water. He detested the odor, but being near the industrial district made it impossible to evade the smell. Mia was somehow fine with it, and so he endured.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He eventually found himself beneath a massive escarpment. The steep cliffside was overshadowed by a colossal clocktower built near the precipice. It stretched to the skies, serving as a universal indicator of time for all residents of Dannan. Imagine if something this big suddenly collapsed, he sneered at the morbid thought before approaching the base of the escarpment. There was a series of mechanical elevators manned by the royal army. ¡°Your verification,¡± demanded one of the gruff guards, dressed in uniforms colored in imperial red, and armed with an impressive spear. The elevators led to Upper Dannan where the wealthy elites resided. For lowborn individuals like himself, special permissions were required to gain access. Emil presented the papers given to him by the witch. According to the documents, he was an inspector at the royal bank in charge of ensuring the workshops in Lower Dannan could pay off their debts. A distasteful cover story. ¡°Alright, go ahead.¡± The guards opened the path. Emil stepped into the metal shaft and onto the wooden platform, grabbing onto the guard rails on the perimeter. He was in a small enclosure that was connected to the top of the escarpment by a series of ropes and gears. The guards gave a signal, and the elevator began to climb. Emil took in the view as he ascended, listening to the loud hums and creaks of the gears spinning. Beneath him, plumes of black fumes suffused the air, shrouding the buildings of the industrial district in an ashen veil. Beyond the industrial district in the north were the massive sprawl of slums. Surrounding the zone of Lower Dannan were two strips of concave land that sloped upwards towards Upper Dannan. They were roads, heavily guarded and monitored, meant to be used only for ferrying goods and raw materials between the two sectors. To an outsider, the scene before him might have left an enthralling impression. Emil, however, had long grown wary of this sight. Still, he had to remind himself not to take this privilege for granted. Because for most residents of Lower Dannan, this view was a marvel that they¡¯ll never get to witness. *** Contrasting the dirty and dissonant environment of Lower Dannan, Upper Dannan was like a tranquil garden. Upon stepping off the elevator, Emil was immediately greeted by vivid greenery and the pristine glow of marble stone. The whitish rock was used everywhere¡ªin the walls of buildings, within the various sculptures on every corner, and on the terraces overseeing the streets. Even beneath the overcast skies, the marble stone sparkled, adorning Upper Dannan in a radiant gleam. It was quiet. Almost uncomfortably so. The absence of the blast furnace¡¯s rumbles and the clash of metals in the background was strangely unnerving. Emil walked away from the elevator, careful not to gawk at the nauseating display of wealth around him. Aqueducts crowded the airspace above the well-maintained paths, delivering water to the myriads of plants and flowers out in full blooms on the side of the streets. Vines latched onto the sides of trees and walls¡ªalmost acting like a bridge between the various hanging gardens in the vicinity. It was a spectacular view, but Emil found it difficult to be impressed. When he considered about how much money must be used daily to maintain these opulent sights, he couldn¡¯t help but feel bitter. Eventually, he arrived at his destination. It was a building with a plaque mounted above its wooden doors, engraved with the words, ¡°Royal Bank of Ardair.¡± The royal bank was a striking sight¡ªnot because it overtook its neighboring buildings in opulence and beauty. Rather, it was astonishingly bland. Its walls were plain, absent of the vivid plant life that decorated the rest of Upper Dannan, and instead composed of a monotonous glob of gray, discolored cobblestone. The royal bank was absurdly dull and sterile compared to the verdant splendor of its surroundings. Just looking at it made Emil¡¯s insides churn. I really don¡¯t want to be here. *** ¡°Good morning, how can I help you?¡± the teller at the wooden booth asked. Emil slid a token across the table. It was a brass coin inscribed with the fangs of a hound. ¡°I¡¯m here to see the Madame.¡± Codeword for a scheduled meeting with the witch. The teller shot him a brief glance and examined the token. After a few minutes of scrutiny, she stood up. ¡°Right this way, sir,¡± the teller said, beckoning for him to follow. Discretely, she led him to a stairway hidden in the corridors behind the bank counter. This branch of the royal bank was a front for one of Steiger¡¯s head offices. The organization was an anti-corruption force specializing in Exalted affairs under the direct mandate of the royal family. It was currently led by the despicable witch. Emil climbed the stairs¡ªeach step he took stirred the raging inferno in his guts. Dread gnawed the back of his head. For him, the witch was a harbinger of despair. Each time they met, he was forced to split from Mia, and ordered to do vile, contemptible things. ¡°Here, Director Hortensia¡¯s been expecting you,¡± the teller said as they reached the top of stairs. Emil stood there, staring at the large doors in front of him. The corridor seemed to spin. This isn¡¯t about you. His hands balled into fists, shaking. It¡¯s for Mia and Raz. He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but the witch¡¯s jobs were the only things keeping them off the streets. It kept Raz alive from his deteriorating condition and it kept Mia away from whoring herself out in the brothels. If it meant dirtying his hands, then so be it. ¡°Come in already,¡± a voice echoed from inside. Emil¡¯s hands instantly moved towards the knob as if compelled by instinct. Before he knew it, he had stepped into his least favorite place in the world. Immediately, he was assaulted by the nauseating tang of tobacco. The heavy stench hung in the air, clinging onto the smoky vapors permeating the room. Emil scrunched up his face, making no effort to hide his disgust. As usual, the witch was sitting at her desk. She had a cigar in one hand, her chin rested on the other, leaning slightly to the side. A sinister grin smeared across her face. Emil might have found her enchanting¡ªif he wasn¡¯t so familiar with her disturbing character. ¡°A monster in human skin¡± was an apt description for her kind. ¡°Hello, Emil.¡± Her deep, sultry voice reverberated across the smoky room. Emil didn¡¯t bother responding back. She continued, unfazed by his belligerence, ¡°I read through the reports on your infiltration of Grenze. Nicely done. Your track record remains pristine.¡± Emil¡¯s hands twitched. ¡°¡­Get to the point already,¡± he snarled, ¡°I doubt you called me here just for flattery.¡± The witch grinned, taking a slow, deliberate whiff of her cigar. Emil narrowed his eyes, glaring as she indulged in the disgusting fumes. It was her way of mocking his impatience. ¡°Youngsters have no taste for small talk these days. Fine,¡± she said, leaning forward, suddenly serious, ¡°It¡¯s a matter concerning national security. A cache of Azurite intended for House Belle was stolen last night.¡± Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. He instinctively reached for the thin necklace dangling around his neck. At the end of the accessory was a small gem bathed in a deep vivid blue. Azurite. It was a special stone capable of storing mana in high concentrations. Mana, and by extension, Azurite, was what gave Exalted access to their otherworldly abilities¡ªtheir Gifts. Without it, the Exalted were the same regular Ordinaries. ¡°I thought the deliveries were supposed to be heavily guarded. How did an entire cache get stolen?¡± he asked. The incident was unprecedented. ¡°A Desperado of unknown origins was spotted at the site.¡± A Desperado was an Exalted outlaw. ¡°The entire delivery team, including two of our own agents, were all killed,¡± the witch explained, ¡°Our goal is to recover the Azurite cache as soon as possible before we have an entire syndicate of Desperados running around. We currently suspect the cache to be under possession by one of three major syndicates in Lower Dannan.¡± Emil felt his stomach churn. ¡°¡­And you want me to recover it?¡± The witch tilted her head, pretending to be oblivious. ¡°You don¡¯t want to?¡± He clenched his teeth. She knew exactly how much he detested going undercover. The syndicates weren¡¯t exactly a bastion of high morality. The disgusting things that he had to overlook to complete his missions gave him nightmares. He just returned from hell. He wasn¡¯t going to step into it again so soon. The witch smirked as if reading his thoughts. ¡°You, of all people, should understand the dangers of Azurite falling into the wrong hands.¡± Her voice danced with a threatening tone. ¡°The tragedy that occurred four years ago was at the hands of a Desperado after all.¡± Emil¡¯s mind trembled. That dreadful day filled with flames and despair flashed in his head. He clawed at his throat, suddenly feeling it difficult to breathe. ¡°It was a Desperado that destroyed your home¡­¡± The witch¡¯s words coiled around his neck, intent to squeeze out every drop of air. ¡°¡­killed your friends¡­¡± Stop it. ¡°¡­and defiled your body¡ª¡± ¡°Enough!¡± Emil screamed. His body was shivering. His dry heaves echoed loudly in his ears. His chest felt like it was going to explode. ¡°You think you can manipulate me into accepting?!¡± He swiped the air, furious yet scared. A part of him wanted to stomp over and bash the witch¡¯s face in. But he knew better. Her position as the director of Steiger wasn¡¯t just lip service¡ªshe could crumble him in an instant if she desired. Noting his indignation, the witch fetched something behind her desk. She tossed it onto the table nonchalantly. It was a leather pouch filled with coins. ¡°Your usual pay. Doubled.¡± Emil stared at the bag in disbelief¡ªwavering. He hated that he could be swayed by money. No, I refuse to go through that again¡ª The witch suddenly added another bag to the side. ¡°I heard your bedridden friend is having troubles recently. Tell me, would any of this help?¡± He was dumbfounded. The second bag contained a stash of medicine and herbs that could be used to help Raz recover. I haven¡¯t been able to find any of this on the market. How did she¡ªThe realization sunk in. The witch prepared this carrot in advance. She was monitoring Mia and Raz. She knew of his predicament. ¡°Now you have a choice,¡± the witch said, rising to her feet, ¡°Refuse this irresistible offer to keep your pride and accept that your bedridden friend¡¯s death was on your hands. Or¡ª¡± Hortensia¡¯s eyes gleamed like a snake¡¯s. Emil stood there, paralyzed¡ªshaking with resentment. ¡°¡ªBeg me for this bountiful opportunity.¡± Chapter 9 - Nostra Emil A low baritone ring blared in the distance. Coming from the clocktower overseeing Lower Dannan, it signaled the passing of another hour. Emil slumped in his seat. There were still two hours until noon, but the meeting with the witch had already drained him of all his energy. It was same as always. Whenever he pushed back against his assignments, she would press him on his guilt, trample over his emotions, and bring up events that he wanted to forget. At least I managed to squeeze more money out of her pockets. Mia won¡¯t be happy that he has to leave for another mission so soon, but what can they do? They needed Steiger¡¯s payments to afford rent. Raz¡¯s medicine was also becoming more expensive. Prices for everything had gone up after an abnormally weak harvest season. He let out a heavy sigh. He wanted to go home. His time with Mia and Raz was already being cut short and he didn¡¯t want to waste another second. Where the hell is this damn bastard? ¡°Yo, Emil!¡± And speak of the devil. Emil winced, hating how he immediately recognized that frivolous tone. He rolled his eyes as his accomplice for the assignment strutted to a seat across from him. They were inside one of the private rooms of a tavern located in Upper Dannan. Like all establishments in the upper district, this place was filled with well-furnished luxuries. Emil thought it was excessive for a tavern, but at least the aged wood used on the walls and the dim candle lights gave off a tavern¡¯s typical clandestine vibe. This particular establishment was secretly owned by Steiger and often used as a safe place for conducting meetings between agents. ¡°You look very excited to see me,¡± his accomplice said with a wicked grin. Emil fought the urge to bash him in the face. Unlike the witch, he had some winning chances against this guy. It was Van. ¡°¡­Why does Hortensia always put us together?¡± Emil complained. Van immediately began filling his glass with beer. ¡°Don¡¯t you know? Our pairing has the best track record in the organization. It¡¯s only logical to use your best one-two punch for a mission with national security at risk.¡± Emil narrowed his eyes. Van might have a point¡ªif he wasn¡¯t stretching the truth. ¡°I, have the best track record in the organization,¡± he clarified, pointing at Van, ¡°You, are just piggybacking off of it.¡± Suddenly, a glass of beer was slotted into his outstretched hands. ¡°Cheers!¡± Van exclaimed, clinking their glasses together. Emil grimaced, the bitter stench of alcohol irritating his nose. ¡°¡­Do I have to?¡± Van was somehow already half-way done his glass. ¡°Of course! Who the hell goes to a tavern and not get sloshed?!¡± he yelled, slamming the table. He gave up. Once Van was in his element, there was no stopping his momentum. Emil drank, reveling in the bitterness of his situation. He was four glasses in when the headaches began to kick in. Wincing, he reached for the plate of cakes that he ordered for himself. ¡°Alright! Time to begin the meeting!¡± Van announced as he snatched the plate of cakes out of Emil¡¯s grasp, ¡°A quick quiz! For every wrong answer, I will steal a cake away for myself!¡± You fucking bastard. He wanted to throw Van onto the ground, but his head was beginning to spin. Van¡¯s loud cheery voice boomed in his ears. In his inebriated state, it sounded even more grating than usual. ¡°First! Why is this mission so important?¡± ¡°An entire cache of Azurite is missing. It¡¯s a stone that¡¯s highly in demand since it unlocks an Exalted¡¯s Gifts,¡± Emil said, clenching his teeth in anger. He couldn¡¯t believe his cakes were being held hostage. ¡°And why is that a problem?¡± Van continued. Emil rolled his eyes. ¡°¡­A single Exalted by themselves could cause widespread destruction, so the distribution of Azurite is tightly regulated to make sure it doesn¡¯t fall into wrong hands. The royal family owns the distribution rights and it leverages that power to maintain their authority.¡± ¡°Ding ding ding! Stolen Azurite is not only dangerous, but it also undermines the royal family¡¯s power,¡± Van added before taking a bite of the sausage on his plate. The loud, disgusting sounds of his mouth chewing was disturbing to listen to. ¡°Alright, last question! Where do we think the stolen cache was taken?¡± ¡°Somewhere in Lower Dannan, likely in possession from one of the three major syndicates¡ªGrenze, Nostra, and Aois Nua. Only they have the personnel and space to keep something that valuable hidden,¡± Emil answered. ¡°Very good! You passed!¡± Van exclaimed, offering the plate of cakes that he held hostage. Emil immediately swiped it from Van¡¯s hands and devoured one of the pieces. The sweet, creamy texture of the pastry melted in his mouth. He leaned back, indulging in this fleeting moment of bliss. ¡°Out of the three syndicates, we can probably eliminate Grenze as a possibility,¡± Van said, suddenly serious. ¡°Why? Because I was stationed there?¡± ¡°Yes, the timing of the stolen Azurite overlapped with your undercover mission in Grenze. And Ronny, as an executive of the syndicate, would definitely have been involved if Grenze had planned the raid. As his personal body guard, there¡¯s a fairly low chance that you could have missed this detail.¡± Emil tapped his inebriated head, trying to recall anything that he might have overlooked during his three weeks in the syndicate. Blank. Nothing to came to mind. ¡°That just leaves Nostra and Aois Nua. And lately, both syndicates have started recruiting aggressively. This suggests that something big is brewing. Which then begs the question,¡± Van said, smirking as he pointed a finger at Emil, ¡°Two syndicates. Two of us. Which one do you want?¡± *** Emil ended up with Nostra. Not that it particularly mattered¡ªthe three major syndicates all had their hands in the same trades of drugs, prostitution, and violence for hire. The only difference was the territories that they occupied in Lower Dannan. Nostra conducted its operations in the northeastern quadrant of the slums. Its turf was the closest to the industrial district, giving it access to plenty of business from the laborers after a long day¡¯s work. With that in mind, Emil entered the slum¡¯s eastern sector in the evening. He walked with a slight hunchback reminiscent of the exhausted workers, while dressed in a pair of oily overalls atop of a stained shirt tarnished by soot. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing patches of discolored skin. They were old burns caused by his Gift, but they worked well with his disguise as an apprentice blacksmith. His destination was a dilapidated building by the area between the slums and the workshops of the industrial district.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Emil pushed open the crumbling doors at the entrance. Right away, he was assaulted by a wave of miasma. The thick stench of alcohol and rot permeated the air. The floor beneath his soles was littered in trash, and wet with something unidentifiable. Given the rancid smell, Emil guessed it was a hearty mixture of beer and piss. Guess I¡¯ll have to burn these boots later. He walked in, not bothering to hide his disgust. The wooden floors creaked and groaned with each step. Van called this place a watering hole¡ªsuffice to say, Emil wasn¡¯t amused. It was fairly late into the night at this point, and the watering hole was sparsely occupied. Still, the few patrons in the building eyed him with burning stares as he took a seat by the dimly lit counter. They¡¯re unusually open about their hostility. This is probably the correct place. The barkeep arrived a few minutes later. It was a lanky man with a flashy haircut¡ªhalf of his head was shaved clean, while the other half was long enough to reach his back. His face was covered in scars and warpaint. The barkeep immediately leaned uncomfortably close to Emil¡¯s face. Unfazed, Emil watched as the barkeep¡¯s eyes darted about, as if scrutinizing every detail of his appearance. When he was finally satisfied, the barkeep retreated, putting on a flippant smile. ¡°You¡¯re new here, aren¡¯t youuuuu?¡± he said with a flamboyant tone, deliberately stretching out his words with a pompous inflection, ¡°Do you have any idea where you are?¡± Emil narrowed his eyes, pretending to be annoyed at barkeep¡¯s pretentious attitude. ¡°A fucking shithole. This place sells booze, does it not?¡± he said, choosing his words carefully as he pushed a copper coin across the table. ¡°It sure does,¡± the barkeep said as he poured ale into a wooden cup. He pushed the cup towards Emil with his slim fingers. ¡°But I think beer isn¡¯t the only reason why you¡¯re here.¡± He¡¯s sharp. Emil took a whiff of the cup¡¯s contents. The caustic stank of malted alcohol burned his nostrils. Normal. The foam bubbling on the surface was promising enough. He took a cautious sip, trusting in his Steiger training to keep him alive from any poisons. ¡°Thoughts?¡± ¡°Worse than piss,¡± Emil said, scowling. The laborers of the industrial district were infamous for their gruff and vulgar attitudes¡ªa symptom of the backbreaking work, long hours, and dangers of constantly being near molten flames. Emil hoped that his portrayal was convincing enough to not draw any suspicions. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a compliment,¡± the barkeep said, ¡°So? Enlighten me. What¡¯s your deal?¡± A dangerous gleam flickered his eyes. Emil sensed the patrons at the back of the watering hole stir. A faint murderous pressure was directed at his back. ¡°¡­I need cash. Quick,¡± he said as he set the cup down, ¡°I heard this place was hiring.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Don¡¯t you see this shabby building? I can barely afford to keep it from collapsing.¡± ¡°Not this shithole,¡± Emil clarified, ¡°Your¡­owners. The people behind you. I heard they¡¯re looking for men.¡± The barkeep immediately narrowed his eyes. ¡°You know of us?¡± Was that too direct? Emil took another sip of the disgusting ale, trying to hide his slipping composure. ¡°I do.¡± The barkeep¡¯s face crept to a nasty sneer. ¡°Then it depends,¡± he said. The floor suddenly creaked. ¡°What can you offer?¡± Emil immediately threw his head back. A knife¡¯s glint flashed above his eyes, slashing the air where his neck had just been. He pushed off the stool to face his assailant. The knife came again. Slow. He lunged forward, grappling his assailant¡¯s arm before the blade could arrive. Without mercy, he pulled. ¡°Ngh!¡± his assailant screamed as a nasty pop echoed in the air. Two more men rushed forward at the sight of their companion struggling. Emil threw his first assailant to the floor. He stepped back and reached for his cup on the counter. One of the men charged at him with a machete in hand. Emil flicked his wrist. Beer shot out of the cup and splashed in the man¡¯s eyes. Unable to see, the man stumbled forward yelling. Emil raised his foot and stomped on the man¡¯s knees. He felt a slight resistance until he heard the grotesque crunch of bone being snapped. The last man froze after seeing his two companions fall. Emil lunged at his hesitation. He cocked his arm back and delivered a heavy punch to the man¡¯s jaws. The blow sent him reeling to the floor¡ªinstantly unconscious. The fight was over in less than a minute. Emil stared at the wreckage, admiring his own work. He deliberately stuck to hand-to-hand combat. Revealing himself as an Exalted would immediately destroy his cover. He heard the barkeep whistle in admiration. Without a word, the barkeep walked to the side of the counter and reached for a wooden tube hidden below. ¡°Baer, there¡¯s a candidate I like you to meet. He just destroyed three of your men without breaking a sweat,¡± the barkeep said. Emil realized he was talking into a voice pipe. *** There was a hidden door on the other side of the counter that led to the basement of the watering hole. Emil climbed down the winding stairway, strong with a dank earthly smell. Eventually he reached the bottom, finding himself face-to-face with a wooden door that was slightly ajar. Over the years, he made an interesting observation. The elites of the ruling class seemed to love residing on the highest levels of their estate, while the important members of the syndicates preferred to scurry along in the lowest floors instead. If that pattern holds, then whoever¡¯s in here must be a bigshot. He entered the dimly lit room. The miasma of beer and piss on the ground level disappeared, replaced by a fragrant earthy scent. Scotch? It was the same smell that permeated Ronny¡¯s office during his time in Grenze. But instead of Ronny, Emil was greeted by a tall, brawny man. A fur coat adorned his shoulders, draped over his bare chest. In the room with him were a group of his henchmen. Each of them had a black mask painted with large gnashing teeth covering the lower half of their face. A pair of machetes was latched onto the straps on their hips. ¡°Baer,¡± the brawny man introduced himself as he approached with a wicked smile and an outstretched hand. Emil received it. Immediately, he could feel Baer squeezing down on his hands. ¡°Miles,¡± Emil gave his alias while also tightening his grip. ¡°Caiside spoke highly of you. I see that he had a point.¡± Baer smirked as he loosened his grip. Caiside? Is that the name of the barkeep? ¡°So Miles, do you know who we are?¡± ¡°You¡¯re Nostra. One of the three big syndicates.¡± ¡°And how did you know to find this place?¡± Baer asked, feigning nonchalance. He¡¯s testing me. ¡°Rumors. I used to be a resident of the slums. I got out. But I kept contact with a few people still living here,¡± Emil answered. Nothing he said was a lie. ¡°And yet, here you are. Back in the doghouse again. Why?¡± ¡°Money,¡± he said without hesitation, ¡°I have debts to pay. Family members to feed. The jobs of the industrial district don¡¯t pay enough.¡± He let his voice quiver with desperation. The syndicates tend to lower their guards once they have something that they could control you with. Now they know he was desperate for cash. ¡°It¡¯s true. Life is getting tougher around here thanks to the poor harvest. You have my complete sympathy,¡± Baer said. Suddenly, his demeanor changed. His eyes went wild, sharpened with a savage glint. ¡°But why should I trust you?¡± he hissed, ¡°You¡¯re just a random dude who showed up out of nowhere and thrashed three of our guys.¡± Baer snapped his fingers. His henchmen instantly spurred into action. Startled, Emil immediately fell into a fighting stance. Instead of a battle, however, he found a small wooden table with a string and a machete placed before him. ¡°¡­What is this?¡± he asked, not daring to drop his guard. ¡°Show me your conviction,¡± Baer said, beckoning at his left pinky finger with a cutting motion, ¡°Show me that I can trust you.¡± Emil stared at the machete in disbelief. He wants me to cut it off? ¡°¡­You¡¯re serious?¡± He narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling the sweat on his neck. Baer flashed him a wicked sneer. ¡°Very.¡± Fuck. All eyes in the room were on him. Emil could feel their taunting gazes and the nasty smiles hidden beneath their masks. Damn sadists. Grenze never had this sort of insane initiation ritual, so why the hell was Nostra like this? Emil clenched his teeth, cursing his own ignorance. Not wanting to feign weakness, he slowly tied the string around his left pinky until it was taut and etched sharply into his skin. His finger was already growing numb. I can still escape. He could easily fight his way out of here. If it got too precarious, he always had his Gift if absolutely necessary. His mission, however, would be instantly forfeit. The witch¡¯s words echoed in his head. ¡°¡­Know that your bedridden friend¡¯s death was on your hands.¡± Raz¡¯s medicine was on the line. If he failed here, he would not get a second chance. Emil grabbed the machete. The weight of the cleaver felt strangely light in his hands. It¡¯s just a finger. It¡¯s not like he was cutting off his entire hand. He would still be able to use his left. It wouldn¡¯t be debilitating¡ªin fact, he doubted it would even affect him. He raised the machete. He squeezed tight against the handle. His right hand was shaking, drenched in sweat. He swallowed. His heart bellowed in his ears. Come on! Suddenly, he pictured Raz, shrieking in the middle of the night, reliving the terrors of that incident. He imagined Mia, whisked away, forced to sell her body to disgusting strangers on the streets to make ends meet. It¡¯s just a finger! Emil screamed. He willed himself to comply. The machete finally descended. ¡°Stop!¡± Squelch! Blood sprayed. Emil felt a strong hand holding his wrist. It was Baer. ¡°You¡¯re one crazy bastard,¡± Baer remarked in delight, ¡°I couldn¡¯t even stop you in time.¡± Baer had pushed his arm at the last second, altering the trajectory of the machete¡¯s descent. Instead, it grazed the side of his little finger, ripping off a small chunk of flesh. The finger was mangled and bleeding, but it remained intact. Functional. ¡°Get Miles first aid!¡± Baer called out. His henchmen moved immediately. Emil glanced at their hands, noticing that none of them had their pinkies removed. ¡°This was supposed to be a harmless test, but you were stronger than I expected. Amazing. You¡¯ve showed me your conviction,¡± Baer said as he took out an expensive-looking bottle from a nearby cellar. He set aside two cups on the table and popped the cork open. ¡°Your injury is unfortunate, but this is a good opportunity.¡± He cut a slit into his palms with the edge of the machete. Blood dripped, flowing into the bottle of scotch. Emil followed suit, hovering his mangled finger over the bottle. Blood oozed¡ªhis heart still racing from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Satisfied, Baer poured both of them a cup. ¡°Cheers, Miles. And welcome to Nostra.¡± Emil downed it in one gulp. The ferric accent was unpleasantly bitter. Chapter 10 - A dance with the devil (1) Emil Emil returned to the watering hole the following day. ¡°There¡¯s someone I like you to meet,¡± Baer said while leading the way down to the basement, ¡°He¡¯s one of our key distributors at Nostra. I¡¯ll have you work as his personal bodyguard.¡± Emil gave a curt nod. Nice. All according to plan. His brutality yesterday was a deliberate strategy to show off his martial prowess, so he could have a higher chance of being assigned this role. The syndicates were surprisingly pragmatic when it came to leveraging the skills and talents of their members. The bodyguard position was desirable because it gave him the best chance of being placed close to important figures. Executives, strategist, managers¡ªthese were the individuals within the syndicates with the power to make decisions, and therefore, were most likely to have knowledge of a stolen Azurite cache. Emil winced at the dull pain buzzing from his hands. The act of getting here nearly costed him a finger, but his boldness paid off. They re-entered the basement office. A man was there¡ªhis hands, adorned with opulent rings, locked behind his hunched back as he scrutinized the array of liquor bottles Baer had on display. His oily hair was long and disheveled, draped down messily to his shoulders. His skin, pallid and wrinkled, was smeared with dark spots. At the sound of their footsteps, he turned around. The first thing Emil noticed was his crooked nose and clefted lip. His eyes were twisted into a nasty scowl. ¡°Baer, you¡¯re late,¡± the man hissed. It was an unpleasant sounding voice¡ªslightly shrill, yet somehow still retaining the timbre of a man. It didn¡¯t sound right. ¡°You didn¡¯t give a time,¡± Baer replied, scratching his head. ¡°The whore houses open in thirty. The miners and craftsman are done in forty. These are prime hours for business. Or are you feeling so charitable that you¡¯re willing to dock your pay for me?¡± the man asked, visibly irate. Baer said nothing except react with a wry grin. Emil noted his discomfort. The man suddenly turned towards him. Emil nearly flinched¡ªthe hair on his arms rose at the intensity of his gaze. ¡°So, who¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Your new bodyguard.¡± The man frowned. ¡°I asked for the best you¡¯ve got, didn¡¯t I? I didn¡¯t ask for some scrawny kid¡ª¡± He suddenly stopped. Without warning, he reached out to grab Emil¡¯s arm. Emil almost retaliated out of instinct. Despite his infirm appearance, the man¡¯s movements were astonishingly fast and strong. His hands instantly slithered the length of Emil¡¯s arm like a snake. ¡°¡­Never mind, he has some promise. Looks certainly can be deceiving,¡± he said, breaking into a creepy smile, ¡°You must be the person Caiside mentioned. Miles, was it?¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Emil replied. Jitters rushed down his spine. What¡¯s this uncomfortable feeling? The man before him was hardly imposing, but there was something threatening about him. It wasn¡¯t Baer¡¯s deference to his authority. It wasn¡¯t his unpredictable movements that had no respect for personal boundaries. Nor was it his unusually sharp gaze that seemed to cut straight through you. Emil was an Exalted¡ªthere weren¡¯t many things that could invoke such a visceral discomfort out of him. ¡°Polite as well. What a catch, Baer,¡± the man mused, ¡°You can just call me Decim. All I do is sell drugs, it¡¯s hardly a job worthy of respect.¡± Decim turned to glare at Baer, ¡°And speaking of job, thanks to Baer¡¯s tardiness, I¡¯m late.¡± Decim made no efforts to hide his displeasure as he walked towards the stairway leading to the ground level. He beckoned for Emil to follow. ¡°Come Miles, let¡¯s have a chat while we work.¡± *** Evening arrived in Lower Dannan when they left the watering hole. The skies were slathered in a somber coat of twilight. The low hum of the Dannan clocktower blared in the background. Emil trailed behind Decim as he trekked deeper into the slums. A stale odor permeated the area. Unlike the smoke and ferric vapors of the industrial district, the slums reeked of piss and decay. Trash and mold littered the ground like grass. Fruit flies and other unidentifiable bugs buzzed in the air, delighted by the abundance of sustenance. Emil tried not to react to the stench. The difference between Upper Dannan and this was difficult to reconcile in his head. It was disturbing how both scenes were somehow part of the capital city of Nordica. He bit on his gums in self-admonishment, reminding himself that it was only until four years ago that he called these slums his home. ¡°I got some tidbits of you from Caiside. Strong. Fast. A vicious fighter. You¡¯re an apprentice blacksmith in need of cash,¡± Decim said as he stepped over a pile of rubble. They were venturing down one of the many meandering passageways of the slums. ¡°I have to say, you''re quite nonchalant about the slums as someone who came from the industrial district.¡± His tone was casual, but Emil didn¡¯t miss the faint hints of scrutiny in his voice. I¡¯m being tested again. ¡°I lived in the slums for a few years before escaping,¡± he replied. Decim tilted his head, his eyes dilated with interest, ¡°Oh! And how did that happen?¡± ¡°I stumbled into a business owner by chance. They needed an extra pair of hands for their work. Said I looked intelligent enough with my blue eyes.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. A set of half-truths. ¡°Business owner¡± referred to the witch. ¡°An extra pair of hands¡± wasn¡¯t technically wrong either since Steiger was always in need of personnel. And the witch did comment on his eyes a few times during the early days of their wretched relationship. This should be fine. Decim didn¡¯t say anything¡ªonly offering a faint whistle to acknowledge his response. Emil felt sweat claw down his neck. His new boss¡¯s expression was unreadable. The sun slowly descended as the meandering path soon opened up to a wider, more bustling part of the slums. Dilapidated buildings lined the side of the road. The street was noticeably cleaner¡ªlacking the stench and deplorable rot of the previous alleyways. It was still clandestine, but for the slums, Emil thought it was fairly livable. ¡°Welcome to Lover¡¯s Lane,¡± Decim said, gesturing dramatically like an actor on stage. Emil narrowed his eyes at the name, until he noticed a laborer being escorted into a building by a pair of girls. Oh. We¡¯re in that part of town. He realized most of the buildings on the street had a woman standing by the entrance. They were all adorned in a red dress. Their shoulders were laid bare. Their legs peeked out of the hems of their skirts. Their faces were pale, caked in powder, and their lips accented with a deep scarlet hue. For every woman, Emil caught at least two men hidden in the shadows of the building or at the edges of the alleyways. Guards. ¡°This entire area is owned by Nostra. Operated by yours truly,¡± Decim presented with an exaggerated bow, ¡°We keep the streets presentable, provide protection, and of course¡ª¡± he reached inside the pockets of his coat and produce a pouch. He gave it a light shake. The sound of tiny grains rattled inside. ¡°¡ªoffer the good stuff. You¡¯re a laborer. Surely you know what this is?¡± Opium. It was the same product that Grenze was producing. It seemed like demand for the white powder was insatiable. Emil nodded. A wicked sneer crossed Decim¡¯s face. He beckoned towards the brothels on the streets. ¡°Our clients to come here after a long, backbreaking day of work. The women provide them with a good time, and just as they¡¯re basking in the afterglow, they¡¯re offered the magical powder,¡± Decim explained with a despicable smirk, ¡°A single whiff, and they¡¯re taken a world without the pain, the disgusting soot, the blazing heat of the blast furnaces. Ecstasy. It¡¯s heaven in the mortal realm. So of course, they always, always come back for more.¡± Emil felt his nails dug into his hands. He was suddenly cognizant of the heat rising in his chest. Decim¡¯s words brought back a disturbing experience that he¡¯d rather forget. The revulsion clung to the pits of his stomach. Relax. He had to remind himself to see the bigger picture. The Azurite cache. That¡¯s what he was here for. This wasn¡¯t the time for his misplaced sense of justice. ¡°By the way,¡± Decim asked, leaning close¡ªhis pale, slimy face glistening with curiosity,¡± To celebrate our partnership, want a woman and a whiff of this amazing thing? My treat.¡± Emil shot him a side-eye, fighting the urge to deck him in the face, ¡°¡­I¡¯ll pass.¡± ¡°Hmmm? Really?¡± Decim looked down. ¡°Surely, you¡¯ve got a functional cock, yeah? And things that you would rather forget?¡± The latter made Emil stir. The temptation gnawed at his subconscious. The terror of that incident flashed in his mind. It would be pleasant to forget sometimes, wouldn¡¯t it? No. He¡¯s seen what happened to people who underestimated the substance. With just a single whiff, they¡¯ll become slaves to the powder. ¡°I¡¯ll abstain,¡± Emil said, more firmly this time, feeling the heat in his throat, ¡°I can¡¯t exactly be your bodyguard while high off my mind.¡± Decim grinned. ¡°A principled man, aren¡¯t you? Well, suit yourself.¡± He approached the nearest brothel. The lady standing at the front flinched upon seeing him. She immediately lowered her head in reverence. At the base of the lady¡¯s neck, beneath the veil of the whitening makeup, Emil could see glaring glimpses of rashes and skin lesions. He listened as Decim made some distasteful jokes and offered a few flattering comments. Then at the end of their brief exchange, he handed her a pouch of the drug and received a purse of coins in return. ¡°And that¡¯s how we conduct business,¡± Decim said. He faced Emil with a villainous smile, ¡°Miles, do tell me. Does the sight of this disgust you?¡± ¡°¡­It does,¡± Emil admitted, clenching his teeth, ¡°But I¡¯m not na?ve. I know what I walked into. I¡¯m not going to let it affect my job.¡± ¡°Great,¡± Decim giggled, ¡°I do enjoy working with a professional.¡± *** What the hell am I doing? Three days had passed. Each evening Emil would accompany Decim in his daily patrol of the slums, collecting payments from Nostra owned businesses and dealing with whatever nuisances that arose. During that time, Emil had gotten no closer to figuring out the whereabouts of the stolen Azurite cache. Hopefully Van¡¯s having better luck in Aois Nua. Aside from his frustrations over the lack of progress, he hated how he was already growing numb towards the deplorable state of the slums. His disgust from the first day had faded¡ªno longer did he feel the same rage watching the slum residents get exploited by the syndicates. The speed of how fast he accepted this as normal was alarming. It worked well to keep his cover intact, but Emil had to constantly remind himself that this was all wrong. Today, he noticed that they were deviating from Decim¡¯s usual route. Nostra occupied the northeastern quadrant of slums. They had been walking west without rest since they left the watering hole. This is venturing towards Aois Nua¡¯s territory. Decim led them out of an alleyway and onto another main street within the slums. This time Emil immediately felt a shift in the air. A malicious tension suffused the vicinity. His skin began to crawl as if the malignant vibes were a tangible mass, threatening to swallow him whole. Between the three syndicates, Aois Nua was known for their savagery. While Nostra and Grenze were content as long as they were making money, Aois Nua actively sought out conflict and violence. The road before them seemed empty, devoid of life, but Emil could already feel several eyes scrutinizing their arrival, hiding amongst the dilapidated ruins. ¡°¡­This isn¡¯t Nostra territory anymore. What are we doing here?¡± he asked. Decim flashed him a knowing smile, ¡°You¡¯ve noticed? That¡¯s good. Be ready. Maybe you¡¯ll finally prove yourself useful today.¡± His words stung, although he wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªthere simply wasn¡¯t much for Emil to do during the past few days when Decim was patrolling Nostra¡¯s own territories. Decim added, ¡°I¡¯m meeting a client here. Don¡¯t ask why they decide to choose Aois Nua territory as the meeting place. All you need to know is that this is an important matter, so I expect you to make sure our conversation isn¡¯t interrupted.¡± He expects trouble? Emil read between the lines. His discomfort must have been obvious as Decim suddenly broke into laughter. His shrill cackles rang across the eerie streets. Emil cringed at the grating sound. Does he not realize we¡¯re being observed?! ¡°Miles, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re getting cold feet just because you might have to do your job.¡± ¡°No. Just resolving myself,¡± Emil replied firmly. ¡°Good. Let¡¯s hurry up then. I¡¯m tired of all these eyes staring at me like I¡¯m an animal.¡± They entered a small alleyway off the corner of the main road. The pathway was formed by a cascade of dilapidated stone buildings roughly two-stories tall. The ground was littered with splintered planks and metal fragments. As they walked, Emil noticed an abnormal number of rats scurrying about. This place looked like it was part of a residential area, but the dearth of people implied otherwise. Darkness descended when Decim suddenly stopped before the hollowed doorway of a ruined building. ¡°I¡¯ll be in here,¡± he said. Emil tried to peek into the door, but the absence of light made it impossible to discern what¡¯s inside. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, just wait out here. I should be out in about fifteen minutes,¡± Decim said before scrolling into the building. Emil watched as Decim¡¯s body was swallowed by the darkness. Suddenly, he was alone, in the middle of a violent syndicate¡¯s territory. The eyes hiding in the vicinity all fixated on him. Chapter 11 - A dance with the devil (2) Decim The air was heavy with the stank of rot. Decim walked carefully as he stepped through the dark, dilapidated building. The darkness seemed to wrap around him, muting his senses, distorting his field of view. Vaguely, he could make out the faint vestiges of his surroundings thanks to the glimpses of moonlight leaking in from the walls. The room he was in seemed mostly empty¡ªminus the fragments of rotting wood decorating the corners. He took a step. The old wooden flooring groaned with a dull creak. The sound was blaringly loud against the suffocating silence. A den of rats suddenly scurried nearby. ¡°You¡¯re here.¡± The voice nearly made him jump. Decim twisted his head frantically, trying to discern the source of the voice. ¡°Keep walking straight.¡± He obliged cautiously¡ªonly because he had no choice. Eventually, he found himself before the doorway of another room. Moonlight streaked in from a small window to his left, faintly illuminating just a portion of the space beneath. Below the silver lights, a person stood by the window sill, peering into the night. ¡°Kleine?¡± ¡°That¡¯s me,¡± the person named Kleine turned around. Decim shuddered as their eyes met. Pale skin. A pair of piercing eyes colored in crimson. An impassive, doll-like face. Their hair¡ªlong, white as snow, glistening under the moon¡¯s illumination. Moonlight seemed to wrap around them, enshrouding their body in an ethereal veil. An otherworldly beauty. Decim would have mistaken them for a woman, if he didn¡¯t know in advance the person he was expecting to meet. It was now obvious why Kleine requested this dreary location¡ªwith such a breathtaking appearance, it was impossible for him to not draw attention. ¡°My name is Decim,¡± he introduced himself as he slowly took out a pouch concealed on his body. At Kleine¡¯s behest, he unveiled its contents. There was a small stone. Moonlight bounced off its uneven edges, producing a subtle azure glow. ¡°Five pounds of Azurite. Processed and refined. As you requested,¡± he set the leather pouch down. ¡°And the rest?¡± Kleine asked. His face remained unreadable, barely acknowledging the transaction. ¡°Stored safely under my jurisdiction. It hasn¡¯t moved since that swordsman of yours helped us retrieve it.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t be safe there for long. Steiger is undoubtedly looking for it,¡± Kleine said, ¡°Rumors are already spreading that one of the syndicates stole something valuable from them. Given how fast the news is moving, this is likely Steiger¡¯s handiwork. Both Aois Nua and Grenze are already reacting. They¡¯re trying to draw you out.¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware of that.¡± ¡°Then you should be moving it to a securer location.¡± ¡°I¡¯m making preparations. But it takes time. The bottleneck is procuring more personnel to aid with the transport,¡± Decim admitted, ¡°I need time to verify their skills and their loyalty.¡± ¡°You¡¯re recruiting at this timing?¡± Kleine asked, dumbfounded, ¡°All you¡¯re doing is adding spies into your ranks. That is a mistake.¡± ¡°I need numbers to defend against the inevitable raids from Grenze and Aois Nua.¡± ¡°What you need is speed and secrecy,¡± Kleine¡¯s voice lowered to a growl. ¡°You¡¯re still treating this as a petty territorial squabble between the syndicates. But it¡¯s not Aois Nua and Grenze that you need to worry about. It¡¯s Steiger.¡± The air suddenly thickened with murderous intent. Kleine¡¯s face barely moved an inch, but his impassive demeanor instantly turned cold. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ve forgotten since you¡¯ve been left alone for so long, but the only reason you¡¯re allowed to exist is because Steiger tolerates it. There¡¯s no amount of lowlife rabble in the slums that would help you survive against their raids.¡± Decim realized his hands had balled into fists. His teeth were clenched, baring angrily at Kleine. Kleine continued, unfazed by Decim¡¯s open hostility, ¡°A missing Azurite cache is a national security threat. Steiger will not ignore this. The only reason they haven¡¯t done anything significant yet is because they aren¡¯t sure who has it. You need to cull your numbers. Eliminate anyone that might be a rat. Only your most trusted should be tasked with this job. If Steiger gets confirmation that Nostra is the one holding the Azurite, then consider all of your lives forfeit.¡± ¡­He¡¯s not wrong. Decim clicked his tongue in frustration. Just a week ago, one of Grenze¡¯s drug processing facilities was apparently dismantled by a Cleaner. Years of Steiger overlooking their operations had made him arrogant. ¡°I¡¯ll keep your words in mind,¡± Decim hissed, reluctant to concede. His chest burned. The realization of who they were actually dealing with finally began to settle in. Suddenly, he was having regrets about this job. *** Emil Emil waited by the entrance, staring at the ominous moon lingering in the shadows of the night skies. Frigid winds grazed his arms, stealing away vestiges of warmth. It was silent. Oddly so. It was as if a thick blanket had been draped over the area, snuffing and muting all sounds. Aside from the rats scampering about on the ground, Emil couldn¡¯t feel any other presences. The buildings around him were completely dark. Even at night, in Lower Dannan, there would usually be the occasional candle light glimmering from the edge of windows. Not here. Even the prying eyes from earlier had disappeared. It only exacerbated things, however, as his imagination of the unknown ran wild. Emil¡¯s senses assured him that he was fine, but his instincts refused to be convinced.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Am I being too paranoid? Barely ten minutes had passed and his unease was already growing unbearable. The clocktower suddenly roared in the background. Emil nearly jumped out of his skin, startled by the blaring overtones. Wait¡ª Without warning, he caught sounds scurrying from the darkness. Footsteps. They came from all directions, almost masked by the ringing clocktower. They were too heavy to be from the rats. ¡°Decim!¡± Emil called into the dark room. He suddenly felt eyes searing into his back of his head, ¡°Decim! We need to leave. Now. There¡¯s a bunch of people coming this way. Likely hostile.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve finally taken action, huh?¡± Decim¡¯s voice echoed from the darkness. Another voice suddenly followed. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of them. Do you want a hand?¡± ¡°No. My partner is apparently quite competent,¡± Decim said as he emerged from the dark room. He glanced around, taking in the situation. A vicious smirk soon crossed his face. Emil wasn¡¯t sure if he was insane or oblivious to their predicament. They were deep inside Aois Nua territory with no reinforcements. ¡°Let¡¯s go before they¡ª¡± He caught the mechanical click of a drawstring. Emil immediately tossed his head back as he shoved Decim aside. Something sharp cut through the air. It struck the doorway with a sharp thud, etching itself into the wooden frame. An iron bolt. ¡°Move! Move!¡± Emil pushed Decim forward. The two of them broke into a sprint as a barrage of bolts rained down on the spot they were just standing at. The moon was in full bloom at this point, no longer concealed by the dark clouds as it casted its ominous gaze upon their location. Emil suddenly felt very exposed. ¡°Don¡¯t stop! We need get into the shadows!¡± He picked up a rusted fragment of metal on the ground as they ran by¡ªusing it as a makeshift shield. Projectiles continued to pepper them from behind. The fragment in his hands rattled violently each time a bolt bounced off the surface. There were a few meters left until they were out of the moonlight. ¡°Keep going, almost th¡ª¡± Something wet suddenly splattered against the back of his neck. Emil groaned. Pain seared from the back of his left shoulder. Iron teared through his flesh, striking bone¡ªthe impact nearly knocked him over. ¡°Miles?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± he screamed. The pain was manageable. He¡¯s suffered much worse. What scared him, however, was whether or not the bolt was poisoned. I guess I¡¯ll find out in a bit. There was nothing that could be done right now. They needed to shake off their pursuers first. Finally, they made their way into the shadows. Without the moon¡¯s illuminations, the accuracy of the enemy¡¯s crossbows lessened significantly. Emil tossed the useless scrap in his hands away as he tried to catch his breath, ¡°How far away are we from the main road?¡± ¡°Just up ahead,¡± Decim replied curtly, lacking his usual chattiness. Still, the languid man seemed composed, strangely unfazed by their situation. They were about to speed up when an array of torches emerged from the bend in the road. A group of men stomped onto the path. Each of them had the insignia of a cross coiled by snakes woven on their sleeves. It was the symbol of the Aois Nua syndicate. Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake. The men¡¯s eyes gleamed like predators. Their mouths curved into a murderous sneer. Machetes and knives spun excitedly in their hands, eager to draw blood. They were surrounded. Arbalists were at their rear, and these men blocked their escape. Do I have to use my Gift? Heat immediately surged from his chest in response to his thoughts. Emil suppressed it. The decision couldn¡¯t be made lightly. The moment he exposed himself as an Exalted, his cover would be blown. Decim¡¯s death also had to be avoided¡ªletting his boss die would instantly forfeit his Nostra membership. No, I can still get out of this. ¡°I¡¯m opening a path! Stay behind me!¡± Emil yelled as he rushed headfirst into the crowd of enemies. The Aois Nua men laughed, roaring with glee at his reckless charge. Unfazed, Emil brandished the machete strapped by his waist. He swung at the nearest man. Blood sprayed as his cleaver ripped through the man¡¯s throat. His victim collapsed, twitching in a pile of gore, choking in disturbing garbles as he struggled to hold onto life. The laughter ceased. The members of Aois Nua froze at the savage violence. The prey that they thought had been cornered suddenly pushed back with a frightening vengeance. Emil didn¡¯t waste this chance. As the Aois Nua soldiers were still in shock, he lunged. His eyes grew cold. Time seemed to slow. The noises around him became muffled. His body moved instinctively, flowing with a surgical precision. Like an efficient machine, he weaved and hacked, adhering to his Steiger training. Decimate them. The witch¡¯s whisper cackled in his head. Squelch! The unsetting sound of flesh being cleaved apart blared in his ears. Limbs, dismembered, flopped to the ground. Blood drizzled. The screams of his foes shrieked in the background. With cruel indifference, he continued chopping away to clear a path forward. Something torn into his right arm. Emil ignored the warm blood splattering against his face. His hands felt numb. Nonetheless, he tightened his grip and brought the machete down. The blade carved into the shoulder of the nearest Aois Nua member. Unlike before, however, his swing was abruptly stopped. The machete remained embedded in the man¡¯s shoulder¡ªhis bones blocked the cleaver¡¯s path, preventing a clean dismemberment. His right arm suddenly lacked strength. Emil tried to pull the cleaver out, but the glint of steel flashed in his periphery. He ducked¡ªa knife slashed the air where his head had been. He was forced to retreat. Iron bolts whizzed by as he leapt back, taking away chunks of his leg. He clenched his teeth, feeling the agony this time as the attack snapped him out of his trance. His injuries were piling up. He lost his weapon. He no longer had the initiative. Where¡¯s Decim? ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough.¡± The man in question suddenly stepped in front of him. His languid expression was gone as his face glowed with a renewed vigor. His back straightened. His hunchback disappeared. ¡°Who would have thought that a beast was hiding behind those intelligent blue eyes? Looks really are deceiving.¡± Decim brought down his hands. The rings on his fingers suddenly glowed with a deep, cerulean blue. Emil¡¯s jaws dropped. There was only one object in this world capable of emitting such a brilliant hue. Azurite. ¡°Now sit back and observe!¡± Decim said as he lifted his hands. The puddles of blood spilled by Emil earlier suddenly rose. Rapidly, they agglomerated, condensing into a solid scarlet sphere just above Decim¡¯s head. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the sphere of blood splintered into thousands of tiny needles. ¡°Pierce.¡± The needles of blood quivered for a split second, almost hesitant¡ªbefore surging forth with vengeance. Like a barrage of arrows, they rained down on the members of Aois Nua. Blood-curdling screams filled the night. Men were mercilessly skewered. As they bled, Decim seized control of their blood immediately, adding to his arsenal to continue the assault. At his flank, Emil overheard the clink of crossbows. Before he could call out the attack, Decim had already flicked his hands back. A sheet of blood manifested from the bloody mist, coagulating immediately into a solid form. Thud! Thud! Thud! The bolts bounced off the shield of blood. As the projectiles stopped, Decim swept his hands, retaliating with another barrage of needles in the direction of the arbalists. Suddenly, it was silent. The corpses of the Aois Nua members painted the ground in a river of scarlet. Emil couldn¡¯t help but wince at the gruesome sight. He was no stranger to gore as a Cleaner of Steiger, but even so, there were limits to what he could stomach. ¡°I think that¡¯s it,¡± Decim said casually. He snapped his fingers. The bloody mist in the air suddenly dispersed. Blood that had been controlled by mana fell onto the ground with a soft spat. The air was thick with a ferric stench. ¡°Good work, Miles,¡± Decim said, extending a hand. Emil stared at it in disbelief. A deluge of thoughts spiraled in his head. ¡°You¡¯re¡ª¡± ¡°An Exalted,¡± Decim said with ecstasy in his eyes, ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve been able to use my Gift. What a nostalgic feeling.¡± He was evaluating me this entire time. Decim¡¯s Gift wiped out the entirety of the Aois Nua forces in the blink of an eye. His nonchalant attitude this entire evening suddenly made sense¡ªas an Exalted, he was never in any real danger. ¡°So? Are you going to accept my hands? Or did the sight of a Gift scare you into disobedience?¡± Decim let out a shrill laugh, ¡°Your savagery has earned my respect, Miles. Therefore, I granted you the privilege of knowing my secret. I¡¯m an Exalted. One of the few confined in these slums.¡± He dangled his hands in front of Emil once more. ¡°And here¡¯s to our wonderful partnership.¡± Ensnared by his presence, Emil reluctantly accepted Decim''s hands. The foul texture of blood was caked along his palms. Chapter 12 - Something feels wrong Emil ¡°How are your injuries?¡± Caiside asked as Emil entered the watering hole. ¡°Fine. Bearable,¡± Emil replied curtly, feigning exhaustion from a long day¡¯s work. Decim had given him a day to rest after returning from their client meeting inside Aois Nua¡¯s territory. The injuries he suffered that night were nothing major for someone who survived Steiger''s hellish training regiment. Still, he took the rare opportunity to clear his mind and share his findings with Van. ¡°Miles¡± was just a regular blacksmith apprentice after all. ¡°Let me know if you want something to kick off the edge,¡± Caiside offered with a smile. Today he accompanied Emil as they climbed down to the basement floor of the watering hole. Baer and his men were already there. The brawny leader flashed his signature smile as their eyes met, before stomping towards the back of the room. ¡°Here we go,¡± Baer muttered as he pried apart a piece of the wood attached to the wall. It revealed an opening to an underground tunnel, barely high enough for a normal person to fit when crouched. Without being prompted, his men began filing into the narrow passageway. Like Grenze, Nostra also controlled a hidden network of underground tunnels that connected different locations within the Lower Dannan slums. Today, they were heading towards Decim¡¯s office. The man had called for a special meeting. I swear these guys have a fetish for staying underground. Emil winced once it was his turn to enter. He was hardly the biggest person around, but even then, the narrowness of the tunnel was giving him trouble. Claustrophobia clawed the back of his mind. The wet, earthy musk of the tunnel was nauseating. The heavy pants echoing from further down the tunnel only added to his discomfort. ¡°Miles, nicely done,¡± Baer, who was behind him, suddenly said. ¡°¡­What do you mean?¡± Emil replied, fighting to keep his voice as steady as possible. Panic was starting to creep into his throat. ¡°Decim was singing praises for your performance the other day. You should rejoice¡ªhe rarely speaks well of anyone. Good stuff man,¡± Baer said excitedly, ¡°Let me know if you ever get the itch to punch something. I¡¯m always down for a good spar.¡± Emil rolled his eyes. Why am I not surprised? Baer was the prototypical muscle head¡ªsomeone who only thought about strength and fighting. They were simple and obedient if you had their respect, but notoriously difficult to deal with once they got an ego. Emil learned that the hard way dealing with Raz back in the day. ¡°I was just doing my job,¡± he said unassumingly. He also learned that projecting a certain amount of indifference always seemed to make them impressed. Maybe they see it as confidence. After what felt like a grueling eternity, Emil finally arrived at the end of the tunnel. He pried himself out of the musky passageway. His limbs relaxed with relief at having more than an inch of space in his proximity. He suddenly found himself before a massive subterranean chamber. The area was modestly decorated and furnished generously with an array of wooden chairs and tables. A stage had been built on the far side of the chamber, seemingly designed for an orator to deliver speeches. Calling this an ¡°office¡± was a gross understatement¡ªthis was an entire auditorium. Decim¡¯s status must be higher than I realized. There was at least one hundred people that could fit comfortably in this underground hall. It seemed excessively extravagant for a common manager of a syndicate. ¡°Is Decim an executive or something?¡± he asked. Baer shot him a confused look. ¡°Yeah. You didn¡¯t know? Decim is one of the highest-ranking members in Nostra.¡± ¡°¡­I see.¡± And why the hell did no one tell me?! Emil¡¯s heart sank as he recalled his boorish attitude over the past few days. In hindsight, perhaps it should have been obvious. Decim had his hands in nearly all of Nostra¡¯s businesses. Above all, he was an Exalted. Fucking muscle head. Emil gave Baer the side-eye when he wasn¡¯t looking. The man should have been the one to say something when he made the initial introductions. Footsteps suddenly clacked across hardwood. It was Decim who scrolled onto the stage while clapping for everyone¡¯s attention. The miscellaneous conversations amongst those in attendance immediately silenced in his presence. ¡°I see that everyone is here. Good. Let us start the meeting,¡± Decim said as he scanned the audience with a piercing gaze, ¡°The people gathered here tonight have been selected for their track record, competence, and loyalty. I have an important job that must be executed to perfection. It¡¯s a simple affair really, but it¡¯s been made complicated by some nasty rumors going around.¡± Decim described the rumors, detailing how Steiger was currently monitoring the slums after one of the syndicates stole something under their grasp. The mere mention of Steiger instantly dampened the air with an unsettling tension. Emil narrowed his eyes, trying to understand the implications of this new information. Despite Decim¡¯s statement, whispers of Steiger investigating the slums hadn¡¯t reached his ears. ¡­It doesn¡¯t make sense for the syndicates to be spreading these rumors. They must realize that all they¡¯ll be doing is inviting Steiger to investigate the slums. That''s the last thing they would want. Assuming the syndicate leaders aren¡¯t complete idiots, this must the witch¡¯s handiwork. Emil grinded the inside of his teeth. The witch¡¯s interference was an indirect message that she was getting impatient. On the other hand, does this mean Nostra isn¡¯t the one with the Azurite? Emil pondered the possibility as Decim continued to explain in the background. No. It¡¯s possible that Nostra has it, but Decim isn¡¯t aware. He might not be involved with the Azurite business. Nostra would want to minimize information leaks by restricting knowledge about the Azurite to only those who need to know.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°The job is to deliver a shipment of goods to an important client in the slums. However, with these rumors circulating, our rivals, Grenze and Aois Nua, as well the dogs of Steiger, will all be keeping their eyes peeled on any significant movements. Tensions are a little high. Undoubtedly, there¡¯ll be those who are overeager to attack anything that they see.¡± It¡¯s also possible that Nostra has it and Decim knows. This is not something he would reveal to his henchmen after all. ¡°So, here¡¯s the plan. The delivery will take place tomorrow evening. This group will act as a decoy by escorting a fake wagon of goods to a destined spot. While you guys draw the attention of the onlookers, the actual shipment will occur on a separate route. I will be leaking your decoy route in advance,¡± Decim explained, ¡°Baer, you¡¯re the commanding leader. Caiside, you¡¯re to assist him as the second-in-command. You should expect combat.¡± There is also a possibility that this shipment is the missing Azurite. Emil squirmed at the realization. He wanted to ask what they were helping to deliver, but the question would immediately make him suspicious. Still, if this shipment was the Azurite, letting it slip away would be a huge blunder. Not only it would be in the possession of a new unknown owner, but they would also have to restart their investigations and track it down once more. This might be my only opportunity. Emil grappled with indecision as Decim wrapped up the meeting. ¡°If you do find yourselves under attack, try to hold out until the midnight bell.¡± *** Emil sat at the counter of a small bar located in the corner of the auditorium. Decim¡¯s meeting had adjourned. The Nostra members present remained to discuss the details and logistics of tomorrow¡¯s delivery. At least that was supposed to be the plan. ¡°To my brethren!¡± Baer¡¯s rambunctious voice echoed over the auditorium. He raised his hand skyward, holding a huge cup filled to the brim with ale. Against the rambunctious cheers of his men, he greedily downed the cup in a single gulp. Somehow, I feel like nothing else productive is going to be done tonight. Emil tried to ignore the cacophony behind him. As he turned away from the festivities, he found a glass filled with vibrant colors waiting for him at the counter. ¡°¡­What¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Just a small concoction,¡± Caiside replied, taking his natural spot behind the bar, ¡°Something to shake off the nerves. You look anxious.¡± Did I? Emil frowned as he scrutinized the colorful layers of the drink. He didn¡¯t think he was that terrible at concealing his expressions. Perhaps his uncertainty was affecting his composure. ¡°The color is from juice. There¡¯s some herbal tea, infused with lime and some spices for energy. I added just a tiny ounce of alcohol.¡± Caiside winked, ¡°A spur-of-the-moment decision. You don¡¯t look like you¡¯re in the mood to drink.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± Emil replied, slightly wary. He took a sip regardless, not wanting to act suspicious amongst Decim¡¯s most trusted men. The drink was sweet, not overpowering, accented by a slight sourness and spicy aftertaste that went smoothly down his throat. He observed his body for any adverse reactions. Nothing. ¡°It¡¯s¡­novel,¡± he commented. Caiside let out a laugh, ¡°Never heard that one before. Did it help with the nerves?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± Emil admitted, ¡°But this is normal. Being anxious before doing something dangerous is normal. That¡ª¡± he thumbed at the festivities behind him, ¡°¡ªis not.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t mind Baer. That¡¯s just his way of keeping morale up. After all, some of us might not make it back tomorrow.¡± Fair point, Emil thought as he continued to sip on his drink. The route that Decim drew up took them through both Grenze and Aois Nua territories. Grenze might leave them alone, but a fight on Aois Nua¡¯s turf was pretty much unavoidable. ¡°Here¡¯s the route that the actual delivery is going to take tomorrow,¡± Caiside suddenly said, producing a folded map inscribed with ink. Emil raised an eye. Why is he showing me this? ¡°Decim wanted you to know. This is the route that we¡¯re supposed to draw attention away from as the decoy,¡± Caiside explained as if reading his hesitation. Curiosity overcame his suspicions as he reached for the map. It was a crude drawing of the Lower Dannan slums. Emil committed the marked route to the memory, trying to reconcile the map with the physical locations. ¡°Why me?¡± he asked. ¡°In case I die,¡± Caiside shrugged, ¡°Someone else needs to know which routes we need to avoid. Baer is ill-suited for it. I¡¯m usually the brains and he¡¯s the brawn. I guess Decim think you¡¯re the next best thing.¡± Decim? This was Decim¡¯s decision? Alarms raised in his head. His hands suddenly grew sweaty. Something about this felt wrong. Emil tried his luck with a question, ¡°Any idea what we¡¯re delivering?¡± ¡°A few carets of sapphire, apparently.¡± Sapphire. The word thundered in his head. No way. Emil reached for his drink and took a long, cautious sip. He focused on the sweet and sour flavors of the concoction, trying to distract himself from his raging heart. Sapphire. It was a gemstone that radiated a blue cerulean hue. Emil swallowed his drink and asked, ¡°Decim explicitly said it was sapphire?¡± This question was stretching it. But he had to be sure. Caiside blinked, as if caught off guard by his bizarre question, ¡°No, actually. He just said it was an expensive blue gemstone. Enough of it to make a fortune.¡± There was another stone that also produced a blue glow. Azurite. *** What do I do? Emil leaned against the wall, frustrated, agonizing over his next course of action. He was resting inside his temporary dwellings¡ªa modest room in a cheap inn deep within the industrial district. It was an ideal location for his undercover mission. Nostra¡¯s eyes did not extend this far out of the slums, and the inn was a comfortable distance from the tavern where Mia and Raz were staying. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized by some of the regulars at the tavern. He replayed the information unveiled this evening. Decim is aware of rumors that something was stolen from Steiger. The suspects are the syndicates. He has a delivery for an important client. The shipment is apparently a few carets of an expensive blue gemstone. There¡¯s a high chance the shipment might be the Azurite. The timing of the delivery seemed too convenient of a coincidence. At the very least, it was a solid lead worth pursuing. Given he and Van have already spent a week undercover without making much progress, this information felt like a lifeline. I should contact him now and get Steiger to make a move. The thought boomed in Emil¡¯s head, but for some reason, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to take action. A sickening dread stirred in the pits of his stomach. Something continued to gnaw in the back of his mind, begging for him to reconsider. What am I worried about? What am I missing? His gut feeling warned him that something was off. Emil scoured his memories of being undercover for the past few days, trying to figure out the source of his unease. Decim¡¯s words suddenly echoed in his head, ¡°The people gathered here have been selected for their track record, competence, and loyalty.¡± Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. Then why me? Why was I chosen? Decim¡¯s words might have applied to the rest of the members in attendance, but not him. He was only initiated a few days ago. He had a single instance in Aois Nua¡¯s territory where he demonstrated his competence and loyalty, but that should not have been enough for him to be considered ¡°trustworthy.¡± At the very least, he should not have been amongst the likes of Baer and Caiside. Am I overthinking this? He bit his thumb in frustration, embroidered with uncertainty. Decim. The answer lies with him. Based of what I know of him, does he seem like the type of person who could trust someone so easily? ¡°No,¡± he muttered to himself. He didn¡¯t even need to think about it. The person known as Decim was cunning, methodical, and skeptical. He was conniving. He scrutinized everything. He regularly withheld information¡ªonly revealing what he felt was necessary. And he was constantly testing me. A snap of clarity flickered in his head. Oh, I get it now. The relentless gnawing in his subconscious vanished. This feels like another test. Chapter 13 - Thunderous rain Emil It was night of the mission. Emil tossed the hood of his cloak over his head and fastened his Nostra mask over his mouth. Rain poured from the pitch-black skies, slamming against the earth in violent patters. Cautiously, he advanced¡ªhis feet already drenched in the puddles of the incessant rain as he held onto a lantern encased in glass. The flickering candle inside barely illuminated a few meters in front of him. Baer and Caiside were close behind. Further down the line was a wagon hauled by a few of Baer¡¯s sturdier men. The rest of them surrounded the wagon, diligently escorting it down the muddy roads. Emil was at the vanguard. His eyes darted back and forth, scrutinizing the darkness for any signs of an ambush. They were supposed to be the decoy to draw attention away from the delivery of the real shipment. If they did their job well, then a fight was almost inevitable. I don¡¯t know if I made the right choice. Emil¡¯s mind drifted amidst the raging downpour. In the end, he decided not to inform Steiger of this potential lead. His gut feelings last night convinced him that this was another test devised by Decim. When he thought about it rationally, however, he couldn¡¯t erase the thought that this was a missed opportunity. This is stupid. Did I seriously let a vague feeling change my mind? He gritted his teeth, suddenly regretting his inaction. This was an affair of national security he reminded himself. The royal family and House Belle, the victim of the stolen Azurite, were observing this situation closely. The witch will not tolerate failure. Fuck. He clenched his fists. Rain thundered in his ears. I really hope I¡¯m not wrong. ¡°Take a left, Miles,¡± Caiside said, his voice muffled over the raging rain. Emil turned, rounding the bend of the road. ¡°We¡¯re out of Nostra territory now. This is the neutral area. Stay vigilant,¡± Caiside announced. Emil narrowed his eyes, picturing the map in his head. They were about a quarter of the way through the assigned route. The wagon behind them creaked loudly as it struggled to make the turn. From the lantern''s dim lights, he could make out the outlines of their surroundings. The road they were on was straight, flanked on both sides by scaffolding from abandoned and unfinished buildings. The strange feeling of d¨¦j¨¤ vu wormed into his conscious. This is near the compound. His heart screamed, overpowering the stampeding rain. He hadn¡¯t set foot in this area since that incident. Stop. He bit on the inside his gums to steady his nerves. The throbbing pain echoed in his mouth. You can have your breakdown later. Suddenly, he caught a distinct mechanical thunk amidst the rain. Emil turned. A glint of silver crossed the air from the atop of the scaffoldings. He instinctively covered his vitals with his arms. ¡°Argh!¡± the man beside him suddenly groaned. He writhed maniacally¡ªthe light from his lantern flickering out of the control until it smashed onto the ground. He collapsed, twitching, choking as blood pooled from the bolt embedded in his neck. ¡°We¡¯re under attack!¡± Emil yelled. ¡°Shields up!¡± Baer immediately ordered. His henchmen reached for the metallic plates strapped on their backs and raised it above their heads. They crouched to make themselves as tiny of a target as possible. Iron bolts shot from the skies, peppering the plated shields with heavy thuds. Emil dove to the side and clung to the wall of the left side of the road. The lantern was still in his hands, projecting a dim glow into the darkness. The man that was beside him now laid lifelessly on the ground. Shit! If he hadn¡¯t gotten caught up by his memories, he might have noticed the ambush earlier. He raised his lantern and peered into the darkness. Several bolts instantly flew in his direction. He dropped flat onto the ground upon seeing the glimpses of silver. The bolts blasted the walls right above his head. Arbalists. About fifty meters away. Atop of the makeshift tower from the scaffoldings. Harrowing screams from Baer¡¯s men soon screeched over the downpour. Despite their shields, the iron bolts were finding their marks in the gaps between their formation. Slowly, injuries were piling up. Men began to collapse. The wagon couldn¡¯t advance further. There was no cover on this road. There was nowhere to hide and nothing to protect them from the relentless barrage, except for the flimsy plates of metal in their hands. I need to get rid of the arbalists. Emil chained the lantern against his hips and sped across the road towards the closest tower. Baer¡¯s voice cried from behind, ¡°Miles! What are you doing?!¡± What am I doing? The question thundered in his head. He was rushing into the fray alone into an unknown group of assailants. It was foolish. Even if he was an Exalted, he was still human. He wasn¡¯t invulnerable. And for what? To save the lives of a couple of lowlifes dwelling in the slums? Over the past week, he grew increasingly disgusted with how Nostra exploited the residents of the slums. He was honestly glad that some of their members were dying a pitiful death. But even so, I¡¯m still undercover. Even if he had to turn a blind eye to revolting scenes before him. Even if he was disgusted with himself. Even if he had to put his own life on the line. Emil could not betray his cover. Because doing so will forsake his mission. ¡°I¡¯m attacking!¡± Emil yelled back, unsure if his voice would travel. The base of the scaffolding came into the view. As Emil got closer, he could make out silhouettes of five men guarding the base of the tower. Under the illumination of his lantern, he caught a glimpse of the insignia woven on their shoulders. Aois Nua again.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Emil revealed the machete beneath his cloak. He lunged at the nearest person and lashed out with an overhead swing. The Aois Nua soldier shrieked as Emil brought down the machete against his shoulder. Clank! Huh? There was resistance against his attack. His machete bounced off as the rebounding shock numbed his hands. They¡¯re wearing armor. Unfazed, he swung laterally. The Aois Nua soldier was still reeling from the initial strike¡ªdefenseless as Emil¡¯s machete sliced through his neck. The other four guarding the tower finally snapped into action. Emil shoved the dead soldier backwards into the direction of the oncoming guards. Three of them were blocked, entangled by the mass of bodies. The fourth one rushed at him, hatchet in hand, aimed at his head. Emil leaned back as his assailant¡¯s attack swiped the air uselessly. Without hesitation, he drove his foot into the guard¡¯s knees. The horrific crunch of bones teared through the air. He immediately put the man out of his misery. Behind him, he could hear Baer¡¯s voice shouting out orders. The clash of steel and blood echoed over the rain. More Aois Nua soldiers streamed out of the darkness, surrounding the wagon. The rest of their assault had begun. With everyone occupied by combat, no one from Nostra should be watching him. It should be fine now. Emil took a deep breath. A cerulean blue suddenly glowed from the inside of his clothes. His chest instantly felt lighter as if his heart was caressed by the soothing light. High density mana embraced his body. It came from the fragment of Azurite dangling from his pendant. The mana responded to his will, coursing through his body, imbuing his limbs with an inhuman strength. He was using Mana Arts¡ªan alternative technique that allowed the Exalted to use mana itself, rather than manipulate it to manifest their Gifts. Emil rushed at the remaining soldiers. The guards stared at him in disbelief¡ªhesitant at the otherworldly light surrounding his arms. Mana was usually invisible to Ordinaries, but in high concentrations, they could be seen as a pale blue light. Taking advantage of their hesitation, Emil swung. His fist drove deep into the first guard¡¯s chest. His body armor screeched as it caved under Emil¡¯s inhumane strength. His ribs soon followed, fracturing with a resounding crack. Emil twisted his fist. The mana in his hands spontaneously burst, ejecting a concussive blast that flung the guard backwards. The guard¡¯s body crashed into the legs of the makeshift tower with the momentum of the mana blast. The scaffolding immediately collapsed, burying the remaining guards and arbalists atop into an untimely grave. One down. Emil stared at the carnage before turning to the remaining tower across the road. His eyes were icy cold, gleaming with a savage glint. *** Baer What the hell is he doing?! Baer was speechless as Miles¡¯ body disappeared into the rainy darkness. He was about to run after him when Caiside pulled him back. ¡°Baer! We don¡¯t have time for him!¡± Caiside yelled, his face frantic with fear. Baer finally realized that something was wrong. Out of the darkness, members of Aois Nua suddenly emerged from their flanks and sides. They knew we were coming, Baer sneered uneasily. He was glad that they were fulfilling their roles as the decoy for Decim, but the number of enemies was beyond his expectations. They were here to buy time, not to get slaughtered. ¡°Form squares!¡± he ordered above the roaring rain. His men immediately shifted into a square formation with the wagon at its center. Their shields were raised to the front, forming a formidable wall along the perimeter. In their main hands held machetes brandished at the side, waiting, ready to attack once the enemies got close. In the near distance, something tall seemed to have collapsed amidst the darkness. Baer noticed that the attacks from the arbalists had lessened significantly. That must be Miles¡¯ doing. He smirked wildly, resolved not to be outdone by the newcomer. ¡°Roar! Slaughter them!¡± he yelled. His men responded with a resounding cry. The soldiers of Aois Nua rushed in. They slammed into their square formation from all sides simultaneously. The walls of shields held firm. Machetes slewed through the air, clashing against flesh and iron. Bodies began to topple as the deaths steadily rose. ¡°Caiside! Take command!¡± Baer said, wrapping his fists in a pair of iron gauntlets. The rear of their formation was being pushed back. He jumped into the frontlines, wasting no time as he immediately lunged at the nearest foe. Squelch! Blood sprayed. His victim went down as their face was brutalized by his savage blows. Baer didn¡¯t relent. Like a vicious beast, he continued his wild assault, rampaging through the enemy ranks with reckless abandon. More. His mouth curved into a murderous smirk as another foe was downed. More! His heart thumped with ecstasy. More! More! More! His hands were already drenched in his enemy¡¯s blood. Bodies sprawled around him. Death loomed over his head, gnawing at his subconscious, threatening to devour him at any moment. He reveled in the fear, the thrill, the rush of fighting to survive aside his men. Could there have been a more joyous moment than this? ¡°Baer! We need support on the left flank!¡± Caiside¡¯s voice rang over the chaos. Baer halted his advance and spun back towards the left side of their formation. There, his men were getting violently pushed back. A single person led Aois Nua¡¯s advance. Baer watched as the leader unleashed a devastating punch against their defenses. The wall of shields instantly folded¡ªthe metal plate caved in like it was a piece of parchment, bending inwards with a metallic screech. The sight confounded him for just a moment. Abandoning his thoughts, Baer rushed at the leader of the assault. He tossed out a fast jab at the man¡¯s side. His fist landed¡ªnot against flesh, but something insanely hard. Baer winced as the recoil stunned his hands. The man turned to face him¡ªright as a machete came down on his blind spot. Clank! Baer¡¯s eyes grew wide. The machete chopped down at the man¡¯s bare shoulder. Just before the blade made contact, however, the surface of the man¡¯s shoulder suddenly morphed into a layer of silver. The result was the machete¡¯s blade bouncing off with a resounding thud. What the hell was that? There was nothing that could have explained what Baer just witnessed. In the midst of his confusion, the man spun around and delivered a kick into his assailant¡¯s torso. His leg was like a hot knife, slicing through Baer¡¯s henchman with ease. His henchman flopped onto the ground, eviscerated in half as his blood splattered against the rainy earth. The grotesque aftermath sent terror rippling down the line. Baer wavered for the first time. He''s like Decim. That was the only way to explain what he just saw. An Exalted. He wanted to order a retreat immediately. They stood no chance against one¡ªnot with just a group of Ordinaries. But the midnight bell hadn¡¯t rang yet. The Exalted lunged at him. Baer retaliated with a right cross, aimed at their neck. Cling! The Exalted didn¡¯t bother dodging, electing to take the hit head-on. His fist bounced off uselessly as the Exalted swung. He saw a glimpse of death. The Exalted¡¯s punch was like a steel hammer as it smashed into his chest. His body armor cracked instantly. His lungs screamed. His head tossed back, whiplashed and dazed. In the midst of his stupor, he felt himself airborne, before his body finally crashed into the wooden frame of the wagon. ¡°Ugh¡­¡± he groaned. Pain seared from his ribs. Something threatened to erupt from his throat. Baer tried to suppress it, but instinct took over. He threw up. His chest was drenched in a viscous puddle of red. His vision blurred, frazzled by the concussive blow. Agony rippled through his lungs each time he breathed. Someone was screaming his name. But Baer could only keep his eyes on the Exalted. It trotted towards him with a sneering arrogance. The rest of his men were occupied by the other Aois Nua soldiers. Not that they can do anything anyways. He forced himself to smile. He tried to rise from his spot, but his body refused to cooperate. Slumped against the wagon, he simply stared at his executioner. There was no need to fear death. He knew that the moment he joined Nostra, his life was on a timer. Tonight was just the end of his luck. Heh, do your worse. As he embraced death, something shot into his vision. It dove into the Exalted, knocking it out of Baer¡¯s view.