Chapter 27 : The Devil's Game Begins

The night cloaked the forest in a shroud of shadows, broken only by faint slivers of moonlight piercing the dense canopy. My footsteps were soundless, each step a calculated dance over roots and fallen leaves as I wove deeper into the woods. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, and the distant hoot of an owl underscored the stillness. But I wasn’t alone.
I could hear them—subtle movements, the faint scrape of boots against the ground, the rustle of leaves disturbed by careless steps. They were tracking me, shadows trailing my own. Thalos’s hired blades, no doubt, sent to protect his filthy secrets. They were good, but not good enough to escape my notice. My senses, honed to a razor’s edge, caught every misstep, every whispered curse as they tried to close the distance.
A smirk tugged at my lips beneath the blackened leather mask that clung to my face, concealing all but my eyes and mouth. Thalos thought he could outmaneuver me with paid thugs? How amusing. The thought sent a thrill through my veins, a dark pulse of anticipation. This wasn’t just a hunt—it was the opening move in a game I intended to win, and I’d play it with blood and cunning.
The trees parted into a small clearing, bathed in pale moonlight that cast eerie patterns on the forest floor. I stopped, my cloak blending with the shadows, and waited. Let them come. Let them think they had the upper hand. My sword hung at my hip, its plain leather sheath belying its lethal edge, and my dagger rested in my hand, its weight a familiar comfort. I tilted my head, listening as the sounds grew closer, more deliberate. Three sets of footsteps, uneven but determined.
They emerged from the darkness, weapons drawn, their silhouettes sharp against the moonlit clearing. The leader, a scar-faced brute with a serrated sword, stepped forward, his heavy boots crushing the underbrush. His two companions flanked him, one wielding an axe, the other a spear, their eyes gleaming with the feral thrill of the hunt. They thought I was prey. The irony curled my smirk wider.
“You’ve got guts sneaking around Thalosridge,” the leader sneered, his voice gravelly, dripping with contempt. He tilted his sword, letting the moonlight glint off its jagged edge. “Too bad you won’t be leaving.”
I tilted my head, my voice calm, almost playful, as it slipped from beneath the mask. “Is that so?”
His eyes narrowed, searching the shadows of my face for a clue, a weakness. “Who sent you?” he demanded, stepping closer, his sword raised. “You’re not from Thalosridge. Which faction? Or one of those nobles sniffing for trouble?”I chuckled softly, the sound low and chilling, like a blade scraped across stone. “What does it matter? You’re already dead—you just don’t know it yet.”
The leader’s face twisted in fury, his scar puckering as he bared his teeth. “Kill him!”
The leader’s face twisted in fury, his scar puckering as he bared his teeth. “Kill him!”
The first hired blade lunged, his axe slicing through the air with a whistle of intent. I stood still, my body relaxed, waiting until the last possible moment. Then, with a fluid sidestep, I let the axe whistle past, the breeze of its swing brushing my cloak. My dagger flashed, a silver arc in the moonlight, and slashed cleanly across his neck. Blood sprayed, a warm mist that painted the grass, and he collapsed without a sound, his axe thudding beside him.
The second hired blade froze, his spear trembling in his grip. Fear flickered in his eyes, but it quickly hardened into aggression. He thrust the spear toward my chest, a desperate bid to reclaim control. I deflected the blow with my forearm, the impact barely registering, and closed the distance in a heartbeat. My dagger found its mark, sinking into his heart with a wet crunch. He gasped, a pitiful sound, and his body went limp, crumpling to the ground like a discarded rag.
Two down. The clearing was silent save for the leader’s ragged breathing, his eyes wide with shock. Blood pooled beneath the bodies, glistening under the moonlight, and I stepped forward, my boots silent on the stained grass. The air was thick with the coppery scent of death, and it fueled the dark fire in my chest.
“You little bastard!” the leader roared, his voice cracking as he masked fear with rage. He charged, his serrated sword arcing toward my head with reckless force. I met his blade with my dagger, the clash of metal ringing through the woods like a bell tolling doom. Sparks flew, and I felt the vibration in my bones, but my grip was steady, my stance unshaken.
He was strong, his muscles bulging with each swing, but his technique was sloppy, driven by anger and desperation. I deflected his strikes with ease, each movement precise, deliberate, a dance I’d mastered long before this night. His sword came down again, and I parried, letting the force of his blow carry him off balance.
“You fight like a man who’s already lost,” I taunted, my voice a venomous purr. “Is this all Thalos can muster? A rabid dog with a dull blade?”
“You talk too much!” he snarled, his face red with fury. He swung wildly, the serrated edge aiming to tear through my chest. I ducked beneath the attack, my body flowing like water, and drove my knee into his gut with punishing force. He stumbled, gasping, his sword wavering. I didn’t give him time to recover, slamming the hilt of my dagger into his jaw with a sickening crack.
He hit the ground hard, his sword slipping from his grasp and landing in the dirt. I stood over him, my dagger glinting under the moonlight, its blade hungry for more. My shadow loomed across his face, and I saw the defiance in his eyes flicker, replaced by the dawning horror of his fate.
He glared up at me, blood trickling from his split lip. “You think… Thalos will let you live after this?” he spat, his voice hoarse but clinging to bravado. “You’re a dead man walking.”
I tilted my head, my smile hidden but my voice dripping with cruel amusement. “Thalos? Oh, I’m counting on him trying. It’ll be interesting to see his strength—before I rip it apart.” I leaned closer, my words a whisper laced with madness. “Tell me, dog, does he scream when he’s afraid? I bet he does. I’ll find out soon enough.”
The hired blade’s face paled, his bravado crumbling under the weight of my gaze. He scrambled to his feet, his movements frantic, and bolted into the shadows without a backward glance. His footsteps faded into the forest, swallowed by the night, and I let him go. Let him carry his fear back to Thalos. Let it fester.
A slow, creeping smile spread across my face, and a low, unsettling laugh escaped my lips, echoing through the woods like a haunting melody. It was dark, twisted, almost joyful, a sound that didn’t belong to the boy I once was. “Run, little dog,” I murmured, my voice a venomous caress. “Tell your master the devil’s coming.” My laugh grew, sharp and unhinged, bouncing off the trees. “This is going to be fun.”
I turned, stepping over the bodies without a second glance, and melted back into the forest. The moonlight painted my path, and I moved with purpose, my mind alight with the chaos I’d sown. Thalos’s hired blades were nothing—A taste of the bloodshed to come. His mansion, his empire, his life—they were all pieces in a game I’d already begun to play, and I’d savor every move.
The forest seemed to pulse with my intent, its shadows wrapping around me like a cloak. I found a vantage point atop a hill overlooking Thalosridge, the town’s flickering lights sprawling below like a feast of greed laid bare. At its heart stood Thalos’s mansion, a grotesque monument to his corruption, its high walls and iron gates a pathetic shield against me. I adjusted my mask, the leather a second 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.”
Cold, jagged determination surged through me, my resolve a blade honed to madness. The debt I carried was no mere obligation—it was hunger, a need to crush every soul Thalos had broken and make him choke on his own fear. The documents I’d found in his study were a map to his ruin, but they weren’t enough. I needed his allies’ names, his weaknesses flayed open, his terror as I closed in. For now, I’d retreat, let the fear I’d planted grow, and strike again when the moment was ripe.
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 hired blade who’d fled would carry my message, a seed of dread that would bloom in Thalos’s heart. The bodies in the clearing would be found, their blood a warning to anyone who thought they could stand in my way.
As I closed my eyes, the weight of my mission coiled around me like a serpent. The forest had brought me to Thalosridge in minutes, 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.” The game had just begun, and when the time came, I’d face him not as a shadow but as a nightmare, carving his downfall with every twisted smile.
To be continued....