The Wielder of Death Magic

“éclair,”

“Yes, master?”

“Contact lord Elon.”

“As you wish,” command received. The spirit, ever loyal, watched carefully, data on the secret to Earn piled one after the other.

“Greetings lord Elon, I hope I didn’t disturb.”

“No, my boy, there’s no need for concern. Say, I didn’t expect for thee to call so fast.”

.....

“Tis on the matter of the brothel. The owner has been killed; I’m expecting the other allies to come in full. Therefore, could you pull on strings and acquire the building itself?”

“Acquire the building?” he paused, “-I’ve no idea who is the owner. Might be a daunting task.”

“No,” said he now on the dimly lit streets, “-the man is a noble by the name of Kiano.”

“A nobleman,” stopped lord Elon, “-I’ll have Alison negotiate. Good job on finding the route of the problem. If nobles are involved, it’s so much easier.” On that, the phone ended with Staxius heading to the inn.

The tables and chairs were arranged differently, Mela and a few workers scurried from here to there to clean. The menu displayed ‘breakfast’.

“Welcome back,” said she noticing the man.

“Thank you, may I use the room?”

“Yes,” she nodded with firmness.

“Thank you,” he nodded and climbed the ever-creaking wooden stairs.

‘Finally,’ sat on the bed, ‘-time to rest,’ laid back, ‘-I’ll take a nap.’

Meanwhile far, far away from Earn – Lord Elon called on his secretary.

“Good morning, master,” said she shyly opening the door.

“Good morning,” he returned with a stern aura, the shutters of which show the forestry was shut. The sun might have risen outside, yet, the inside reminisced of the darkened night. A singular reading lamp rested atop the desk. The hardcovered book with golden corners shimmered.

“Come in, have a seat,” said he with fingers touching one another.

“Yes, master,” she obeyed to grab a seat.

“I’ve gotten news from Shadow,” firmed he across, “-the boy has proven his worth. My expectations were high, even so, he made leaps and bounds across. I’m happy to say that I might have found the heir to take over the Empire.”

“WAIT, MASTER!” she stood, “-you’re not thinking of retiring, are you?”

“No, far from that,” he laughed with a few coughs, “-time has been against me for a very long time. There comes a point where one must think of future generations. Godfather Renaud, a man who is trustworthy and always by my side, up until the boy came, he was to become the next Overlord. Nonetheless, I’ve made up my mind. He’s young, I’d guess in his late twenties, a king who controls from the shadow, a king whose standing is either good or bad. Our company has long focused on researching how technology could advance our world, despite this, people go to war. They go to war using swords, shields, horses, and carriages. We have cars, trucks, and rifles, yet, tis only given to a few chosen. I say, the Ardanian Federation and Wracia Empire are the only alliances that use guns in warfare. The other kingdoms including Konak and the land to the Far-west are still living in the age of old. This is why I need to train and educate the future behemoth that is to come, Staxius Haggard.”

“I understand, however, will that not break apart the DG?”

“No,” he smiled, “-not if he takes down Snow, especially that they are a known family of Cimier. The five godfathers know who’s the threat to us, and to that end, we mustn’t give any leeway. I don’t want the guild to be broken by a trifling matter of succession over my name. The Lerado Incident is a glimpse into what could become, a premonition if I were to die without an heir.”

“Master, I have my doubt on Lord Staxius’s capabilities.”

“Silence,” he yelled across, “-watch the screen. I’m Overlord for a good reason.” A picture of old Hidros plastered across, “-the story of the man known as Staxius Haggard. It’s a long and hardy one, a boy who lived on a battlefield – a new man, tried to enter Claireville academy. From there on, I’ve failed to find information until the war of Dorchester against Kreston. He was in the shadow, manipulating, and gathering allies, the Silver Guardians. Afterward, the battle lasted sixteen years until Kreston won. On that day, he appeared once more and took to Arda. There, he became known to the royalty, became a hostage or a trusted member, who knew. Mistake not, the man had no influence, no power, no fame, no fortune. Somehow, someway, he got inside the ever closed and compact province. Then came the birthday of the late king, the apparition of monsters. The world changed, and so did he. Thus, after a while, he took to becoming an adventurer and became renowned on the field as Xenos. In that period, he was made alchemist and founded the formula for God’s Ale. He got involved in the Dark-Guild. Our profits sky-rocketed, he took to Iqeavea as bodyguard to the Pride of Hidros. The achievements stacked one after the other, he got married and became king. The princess of Arda won her tournament and became the Prodigy. Around that same time, Phantom was founded and led by Cake. Kreston invaded Oxshield, abducted the apostle. For eight months to a year, Xenos infiltrated Kreston and rescued she who we worshipped. Following that, we met at the weapon selling event, he was gathering members for Phantom and recruited GateSix from our noses. Phantom amassed power and money, they worked, made, became arms-traders, influenced war all over the world for profit,” the slide show ended on a picture of Staxius.

“What does that have to do with us?”

“Don’t you see,” the voice came strong, “-he did things that would take centuries in a few years.”

“I do admit it’s impressive,” she sighed, “-Overlord, please tell me how thee view him.”

“A boy who climbed his way into kingship and has set his sights on the world. There’s something different to his aura; the Krestonian Holy Invasion is another example of his strength. He defeated the Divine Blade, Raulf Serlo, of Hidros, arguably one of the greatest swordsmen to ever live. If that doesn’t amount to the strength the boy possesses, then I know not what thee wishes.”

“Sir, sorry for saying this, I’d argue most of the things you give credit were made possible by other people.”

“And?” he laughed, “-unknown people. There’s a certain saying, a leader isn’t defined by how strong he is, but by how strong the people who surround him are. I won’t take away credit just because another did the job in his stead. The King of Arda is an amber waiting to pounce. I shudder,” he grinned, “-I shudder to think how he’ll shape our Era. The other Kings and Generals must have taken notice just as we did. The Federation is viewed with fear, a nation that possesses technology centuries from the common. What would happen if he decides to attack a continent or a province?”

“A massacre?” she guessed.

“Precisely,” he laughed, “-blood will be shed by the thousands.”

“How does that relate to him becoming the next Overlord?”

“Simple,” the shutters opened to blind the room, “-as strong as he is, there will be plots for assassination. Thus, the Dark-Guild, rulers of the underworld, at his fingertips, will make the assertion of power ever so simpler. I want to see a king who doesn’t fear repercussion, a king who will drive forth, alone if need be, to conquer the other realms. The unification of Hidros was the greatest thing I’ve witnessed – the continent boomed as a result; people are happy. The same can’t be said for the mainland.”

“Please,” her head shook, “-you’re not referring to the unification of Iqeavea?”

“Maybe I am, or maybe I’m not,” he paused to gaze upon the outside. “This talk has but reinforced my decision. Go,” he gestured, “-go and acquire the rights to Vil’s Brothel in the village of Earn.”

“As thee wishes,” she bowed out the room with a rising sense of excitement. ‘The story is the same as fables of heroes of the old, king who unified world. If Lord Elon trusts so much in him, then there’s one thing I can do,’ resolved to glare the hall, ‘-tis to do my best!’

Curtains swayed with the afternoon wind, the heat gave into a faint moment of coolness. Two figures materialized inside the room, “-master,” said one.

“Intherna, Gophy,” the nap broke, “-welcome back,” said he giving a once over. The puppet bodies were at their expiration, lashes and blood-clots, cut over the arms and legs, a sick display of what had happened behind closed doors.

“We did as was told,” the bodies fell with wisps hovering above.

“It’s as was seen,” said Gophy, “-the cave is used for torture and the ritual of emending.”

“Emending?” asked he.

“Yes, the ritual of correction. The Cult is trying to conjure a demon to cleanse the land.”

“Cleanse the land?” he stared at the ceiling, “-did they know about the pills?”

“Most likely not, the people here are simple-minded,” commented Gophy.

“Listening blindly to their gods, what a shame,” he sighed. “Suppose we need to get rid of the cult leader.”

“That would be the Village Leader and the Alchemist,” said Intherna, “-getting rid of them might be troublesome.”

“Might affect the village, the balance of those living here,” glancing his watch, “-can’t help it. The Cult is more dangerous the be let living.”

“We’ll leave, for now, master,” said Intherna as the fatigue of staying in a weak body stacked.

For the next few days until the 3rd of June, Staxius stayed in the village and gathered information from the locals. The drunkards at night were more than happy to answer the questions. Vil’s Brothel resumed working, the passing of Vil came as a shock. Still, money was needed, and the new owner, a masked man, took over the business of buying Pills from Snow. The first encounter with the dealers gave the impression of worthlessness. Cleopatra, ordered per Staxius, was tasked to infiltrate the dealer’s click. She did so easily, none could have expected a femme-fatale coming to the scene. Each passing day was filled with scheming and thinking. The location of their hideout was soon discovered at the shipping-district towards the East. A well-established fishing company was the middle-man for the import of the narcotics.

‘Here we are,’ thought Staxius with a few docks’ in sight. Ships were lined without movement despite the harshness of the waves. A hangar with *Jeen’s Shipping* rested with multiple trucks moving left and right. Cargo from a nearby ship was transported by unusually formally-dressed men.

‘They’ve taken to imitating the DG to heart.’

“Master, shall we intervene?” asked Gophy in spirit form.

“No,” he grinned, “-leave this slaughter to me.”

A gate, guarded by a uniformed man, stood between him and the hangar.

“Who are you?” asked he confused by the sudden appearance.

“Death,” he smirked, *Blood-Arts: Extria.* A nauseating feeling forced the man onto the ground, ‘-come to me,’ a gesture broke the body with blood gushing out.

*Blood-Arts: Bloody Mary,* Adete stood atop his head. The crimson halo manifested as if a floating crown.

“Who are you?” voiced one of the carriers.

“A visitor,” *Blood-Arts: Crimson Threads,* no time to blink for the body fell apart. A singular man walked with the essence of blood-lust – anyone who came in his way was killed. Using Extria, the ability to control blood inside the living at a range defined by the nightwalker’s strength, the massacre went on until dusk.

Night veiled the docks. A heavy fire rose towards the skies. The bodies of every single member associated with the import laid dead. What transpired was but the prelude of a terror which would have the world turned.