The pre-dawn air was sharp, the estate shrouded in stillness as I slipped into my chambers. My plain traveling cloak hung ready, its fabric free of any crest, and beside it lay the blackened leather mask I’d crafted, designed to cover the upper half of my face, leaving only my eyes and mouth exposed.
Thalosridge demanded anonymity—Baron Thalos’s spies would pounce on any hint of my identity, and the debt I aimed to settle required absolute secrecy. Two months of grueling training had forged my body to Mana Stage 2 Adept and Aura Stage 1, but this journey would test my stealth and cunning as much as my strength.
I glanced at the window, its frame wide enough for a silent escape. Captain Torren and the four guards—Loren, Gavric, Taryn, and Elias—were meant to escort me, but I’d slipped a mild sedative into the ale of Torren and two guards, Gavric and Taryn, during last night’s meal.
They slept soundly in the barracks now, unaware of my plan. Loren and Elias, however, had skipped the meal, and I could hear their low voices outside my door, their boots scuffing the stone as they stood watch. Their armor bore the faint mark of our family’s army, a sigil that would betray me in Thalosridge’s lawless streets. I couldn’t let them follow.
Moving with practiced silence, I donned the cloak and fastened the mask, its leather cool against my skin. My sword, sheathed in plain leather, hung at my hip, and I checked my mana, its steady pulse grounding me. Easing the window open, I listened for any shift in the guards’ rhythm. Loren’s gruff murmur continued, oblivious.
I slipped over the sill, my fingers gripping the stone ledge, and dropped lightly to the grass below, landing in a crouch. The courtyard was empty, the sedated guards’ snores faint from the barracks. I moved swiftly to the rear gate, my steps silent.
The forest beyond the estate loomed dark and dense, its tangled branches swallowing the faint light of dawn. I plunged into its depths, the underbrush crunching softly beneath my boots. Thalosridge was close—mere minutes through the forest’s shadowed paths.
My senses were heightened, every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sharpening my focus. The air grew heavy with the scent of moss and damp earth, and I moved with purpose, my cloak blending with the shadows.
His mansion, a grotesque monument to his corruption, lay just beyond the forest’s edge. I’d reach it tonight, infiltrate its walls, and uncover the secrets that would begin his downfall.
The forest thinned, and Thalosridge’s flickering lights emerged, a sprawl of stone and timber nestled against towering cliffs. At its heart stood the mansion of Baron Thalos, its high walls and iron gates a desperate barrier against intruders. I crouched behind a gnarled tree, studying the structure. Scaling those walls would be my first test, but I was ready.
Under cover of darkness, I approached, my cloak melding with the shadows. The wall’s rough stone offered ample handholds, and I climbed with precision, my movements fluid. At the top, I paused, scanning the courtyard below. Lanterns cast a faint glow over garden paths, but the guards patrolled lazily, their steps predictable. I dropped down, landing softly, and slipped into the shadows.
An open window on the second floor beckoned. I scaled the mansion’s exterior, my fingers finding cracks in the stone, and slipped inside without a sound. The air reeked of excess—stale wine, gaudy furnishings, and garish tapestries that screamed of wealth without taste. I moved through the corridors, senses heightened, the faint creak of wood and distant murmurs guiding my steps.
After several minutes, I found the study, its heavy oak doors marking it as a place of importance. “Predictable,” I muttered.
The lock yielded to a deft twist of my dagger. Inside, shelves lined the walls, and a large desk sat cluttered with papers. I began sifting through them, my eyes scanning for anything of value. Most were mundane—trade agreements, inventory lists, tax records—but my patience paid off. Beneath a stack of ledgers, I found a sealed folder, its wax stamp unbroken.
Breaking the seal, I flipped through the pages, my eyes sharpening as I absorbed the contents. Smuggling operations, bribery payments, illegal trade routes—Baron Thalos’s corruption ran deeper than I’d imagined. The documents named corrupt officials, detailed hidden storehouses, and mapped his illicit network.
I memorized the key details, my mind racing with the implications. This was the leverage I needed, the first step toward dismantling his empire.
I replaced the folder exactly as I’d found it, ensuring no trace of my intrusion remained.
Suddenly, heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed down the hallway. I extinguished the lantern and melted into the shadows behind a bookshelf, my presence cloaked.
The door creaked open, and a guard entered, his hand resting on his sword hilt. His eyes swept the room, suspicion etched across his weathered face.
“You won’t find anything,” I whispered coldly, my voice barely audible.
He froze, his head whipping toward the sound of my whisper, eyes wide with animal fear. Before he could scream, I was behind him, my movements a blur, a predator’s grace. My hand clamped over his mouth, fingers digging into his flesh, and a precise surge of force—raw, vicious—surged through him. His body went limp, collapsing like a broken toy, and I lowered him to the floor, his sword clattering with a pathetic whimper.
A dark, jagged smirk split my lips, my pulse thrumming with a sick thrill. “Oh, you thought you’d catch me?” I hissed, leaning close to his unconscious face.
“Pathetic. I could snap your neck and dance in your blood, but you’re not worth the mess.”
Steps through the mansion, slipping out the same window I’d entered. The night air was cool against my mask, a lover’s caress on my fevered skin. I scaled the wall and dropped into the forest’s embrace, moving swiftly, a shadow with a heartbeat of fire.
My mind buzzed, not with plans but with hunger—Baron Thalos’s sins were mine to tear apart, and I’d savor every scream. Exposing him wasn’t enough; I’d unravel him, thread by bloody thread, with precision, patience, and a blade if he begged for it.
I found a vantage point atop a hill overlooking Thalosridge, the town’s flickering lights sprawling below like a carcass waiting to be carved. The mansion stood at its center, a rotting heart I’d rip out. I adjusted my mask, the leather fused to my skin, and whispered to the night,
"Thalos, you fat, greedy slug—your sins are scribbled in ink, but I’ll paint your end in red.” My voice was low, a lover’s promise laced with venom. “I’ll make you choke on your own fear.
”Cold, jagged determination surged through me, my resolve a blade honed to madness. The debt I carried wasn’t just justice—it was a feast of vengeance for every soul Thalos had crushed. The documents were a map to his ruin, but I craved more—his allies’ screams, his weaknesses flayed open, his terror as I closed in. For now, I’d retreat, plan, and strike when the moment was ripe, when I could taste his panic.
The forest offered shelter as I settled beneath a gnarled tree, peeling off the mask and tucking it into my pack. My sword rested across my lap, whispering promises of chaos. Thalosridge was a crucible, and I was its flame, burning hotter with every step.
The guard would wake soon, probably thinking he’d tripped or been clubbed by a ghost. The documents sat untouched, Thalos snoring in his piggish ignorance. But I knew his secrets, and they were claws sharper than steel.
As I closed my eyes, the weight of my mission coiled around me like a serpent. Minutes through the forest had brought me to Thalosridge, and one night had armed me with the tools to gut him.
“Sleep well, Baron,” I muttered, a chuckle bubbling up, low and unhinged. “I’m coming for you, and I’ll laugh when you beg.” This was just the beginning, and when the time came, I’d face him not as a shadow but as a nightmare.
Silence.
Then—
A flicker in the air.
A rustle, too precise to be wind.
My breath caught.
Cold crept up my spine.
I wasn’t alone.
Not one presence. Many.
To be continued...
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