Chapter 29 : Tonight’s Entertainment

The night was a canvas of shadows, and I was its painter, brushing strokes of chaos across Thalosridge’s underbelly. My mask, blackened leather clinging to my face, hid all but my eyes and mouth, a silent promise of ruin. The forest had been my ally, cloaking my movements as I slipped away from the estate, but now it was time to escalate the game. Thalos thought he could outmaneuver me with his hired blades and fortified mansion. He was wrong, and I’d make him feel it—slowly, deliberately, deliciously.
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[Thalos’s Mansion]
In the heart of Thalos’s opulent mansion, the dark study was a cocoon of tension. The fire crackled in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the walls, their dance mirroring the storm brewing within Baron Thalos. He paced like a caged beast, his silken robes rustling with each heavy step, his face a mask of frustration and barely contained rage. The air was thick with the scent of stale wine and polished wood, a testament to his excess, but tonight, it felt suffocating.
Across from him, a cloaked figure sat in a high-backed chair, their features obscured by the dim light, only the faint glint of their eyes betraying their presence. Their posture was relaxed, almost mocking, as they listened to Thalos’s tirade.
“I’ve already tripled the security around the mansion,” Thalos growled, his voice a low rumble, veins bulging on his neck. “More men, more patrols, locked-down roads. But that masked bastard slaughtered my men with surgical precision. They were trained, armed to the teeth, and he cut through them like they were nothing!”
The figure tilted their head slightly, their voice cold and amused, cutting through the baron’s bluster like a blade. “You let a masked intruder slip past your defenses? Tsk, Thalos. That’s almost embarrassing.
”Thalos’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening until his knuckles whitened. “Don’t act as though it’s incompetence,” he snapped, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “That man wasn’t normal. Fast, deadly, and…” He paused, his eyes darkening as he recalled the hired blade’s report. “He laughed while doing it. Laughed, like it was some twisted game.”
The figure’s lips curved into a faint, unseen smile, their tone laced with mockery. “Then he’s toying with you. And you’re letting him set the pace.”
Thalos slammed a fist on the table, the crack echoing through the room, sending a goblet of wine toppling to the floor. “Damn it, I don’t need a lecture!” he roared, his face reddening. “I’m not some fool to be played with!”
The tension thickened, broken only by the fire’s crackle and the distant clink of a guard’s armor outside. The figure remained unmoved, their silence a deliberate prod at Thalos’s fraying nerves. Finally, they spoke, their voice calm, almost bored. “So what’s your next move, Baron? You can’t just barricade yourself in here and hope he loses interest.”
Thalos’s lips curled into a cruel smile, his eyes gleaming with malice. “If he wants to play games, I’ll raise the stakes. I’ve already sent word to certain… specialists.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Killers who don’t ask questions, who don’t fail. They’ll hunt him down, mask or no mask.”
The figure was silent for a moment, their gaze piercing despite the shadows. “You better not underestimate him,” they said at last, their tone sharp with warning. “He’s not some common thug. One mistake, and you’ll be the one played—bled out on your own floor."
Thalos’s smile didn’t waver, though a flicker of unease passed through his eyes. “I’ll bury that masked fool,” he spat. “And if he’s from a rival faction—Morgana’s dogs, the eastern syndicate, or some noble’s pet assassin—I’ll burn them all to ash.” He straightened, his voice hardening. “No one crosses me and lives.”
The figure rose, their cloak whispering against the floor. “See that you don’t fail, Thalos. Our mutual friend won’t tolerate excuses.” Without another word, they slipped out, leaving Thalos alone with his rage and the fire’s dying embers.
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[Aren]
Nightfall settled around me like a second skin, the forest’s shadows my playground as I crouched in the undergrowth. My focus was sharp, my senses honed to a lethal edge, eyes locked on the hired blade patrol ahead. Their armor glinted faintly under the moonlight, their movements heavy, predictable.
“Stay sharp,” one grumbled, his voice rough with fatigue. “We can’t let anyone slip through tonight.”
A slight grin tugged at my lips beneath the mask. Poor fools. They thought they were hunters. I stepped forward, silent as death, my dagger flashing in a silver arc. The blade sliced cleanly through the first man’s throat before he could make a sound, blood spraying in a warm mist. He collapsed, eyes wide with shock, lifeless before he hit the ground.
His comrade turned, his spear half-raised. “Wha—?”
I cut him off with steel, my dagger plunging into his chest, the blade finding his heart with surgical precision. His body dropped at my feet, a soft thud in the quiet night. The air reeked of blood and fear, and I savored it, my grin widening.
Another hired blade’s voice echoed through the clearing, sharp with alarm. “Intruder spotted! Surround him!”
Footsteps charged my way, heavy and chaotic. I assessed the group quickly—seven men, all heavily armed, their swords and axes gleaming with intent. Their leader, a burly man with a scarred face, stepped forward, his voice booming with false bravado. “You won’t be leaving alive today!”
I tilted my head, my voice cold, dripping with menace. “This will do.”
Without another word, I melted into the darkness, vanishing into the shadows before they could close the circle. Their shouts followed, frantic and disjointed, as they slashed at empty air. I could have killed them all—my blade ached for it—but there was no need to waste my energy tonight. Let them stew in their failure, let Thalos’s fear grow. I slipped deeper into the forest, a ghost they’d never catch.
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[The Next Morning]
The morning light filtered through the estate’s windows, casting long shadows across the worn table where I sat, intelligence reports spread before me. My gaze was calm, calculating, each page a piece of Thalos’s empire I’d dismantle. The ledger from his mansion sat nearby, its coded entries now an open book to me, revealing the depths of his slave-trading filth. But knowledge was only the first blade; action would be the second.
A guard entered, bowing low, his face taut with deference. “Young master, your orders?”
I set the papers down, my movements deliberate, and fixed him with a stare that made him shift uncomfortably. “Send a notice to Baron Thalos,” I said, my voice flat, final. “Tell him Aren Wolfhart will be appearing at his mansion tomorrow.”
The guard blinked, his mouth opening slightly. “Isn’t that… unwise, young master?”
I leaned forward, my lips curling into a faint, dangerous smile. “It’s necessary. I want him to know I’m coming.”
He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering with unease, but he nodded. “Understood.” He bowed again and left without further questioning, his footsteps echoing in the hall.
I leaned back in my chair, my eyes gleaming with anticipation. Thalos would prepare for me, thinking he held the advantage, expecting the masked intruder who’d haunted his nightmares. That was his mistake, and I’d exploit it. Let him fortify his mansion, hire his specialists, tighten his noose. I’d walk into his trap as Aren Wolfhart, not the masked shadow, and watch his confidence crumble when he realized the game was mine.
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[Later That Night]
The forest was a symphony of silence, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves as I moved through the thick undergrowth. My mask was back in place, the leather a second skin, my dagger and sword ready at my sides. The night was mine, and Thalos’s men were about to learn how little they mattered.
A sharp voice cut through the quiet, tense and alert. “You hear that?”
I smiled faintly beneath the mask, my voice a low, mocking whisper. “Your last mistake.”
Emerging from the shadows, I struck fast, my dagger slicing through the first hired blade’s throat with a wet gurgle. He collapsed, clutching futilely at the wound. His companion spun, panic flashing in his eyes, and swung his sword wildly. I sidestepped with ease, my blade slashing across his chest in a single, fluid motion. He hit the ground, blood pooling beneath him, his gasp fading into silence.
The clatter of approaching weapons echoed through the trees—more hired blades, drawn by the commotion. A group of five emerged, their faces a mix of rage and fear, swords and axes raised. Their leader, a lean man with a crooked nose, sneered, stepping forward. “You think you can take all of us, you masked freak?”
I didn’t respond, my silence a weapon that unnerved them. Doubt flickered in their eyes, their grips tightening on their weapons. Before they could act, a new sound broke the tension—distant, guttural growls, low and menacing. I turned, my senses sharp, and spotted a group of goblins emerging from the darkness, their crude weapons glinting faintly under the moonlight. Their beady eyes gleamed with hunger, their jagged teeth bared.
A slow, dark smile spread across my face, my voice a low, twisted purr. “Looks like I get a bonus tonight.”
The hired blades froze, their bravado crumbling as the goblins charged, shrieking in their guttural tongue. “Fall back!” their leader yelled, his voice cracking with panic.
I chuckled darkly, stepping toward the chaos, my blades flashing in the moonlight. “One arrow, two sparrows,” I muttered, the thrill of combat coursing through my veins, sharp and intoxicating. “I’m enjoying this more than I should.”
I moved like a tempest, cutting down goblins and hired blades alike. A goblin lunged with a rusted spear, and I parried, my dagger slicing through its throat. A hired blade swung his axe, and I ducked, my sword carving a red line across his abdomen. Their screams mingled with the clashing of metal, a cacophony that fed the fire in my chest. Blood sprayed, warm and slick, painting the forest floor, and I reveled in it, my movements a dance of death.
One hired blade broke ranks, fleeing into the trees, his screams fading as the goblins pursued. I let him go—another messenger to carry terror. A goblin charged, its club raised, and I sidestepped, driving my dagger into its skull. The last hired blade stood his ground, his sword trembling in his grip. “You’re a monster!” he spat, his voice hoarse.
I tilted my head, my smile hidden but my voice dripping with menace. “And you’re entertainment.” My sword flashed, and he fell, his body joining the carnage at my feet.
As the last enemy collapsed, I stood amidst the slaughter, breathing steadily, my blades dripping red. The forest was silent again, the air heavy with the stench of blood and death. I wiped my dagger on a goblin’s ragged tunic, my gaze sweeping the clearing. Bodies littered the ground, human and goblin alike, a testament to my work.
I melted back into the forest, the shadows swallowing me whole. Tomorrow, I’d walk into Thalos’s mansion as Aren Wolfhart, unmasked, and watch his world unravel. He’d prepared for a ghost, but I was a storm, and his empire would crumble beneath my wrath.
To be continued...