Robert went to Pappardelle's ranch in the Tuscany hills. Scouting the place in the liminal void, Robert found nothing out of the place. Angelo was in his study, reading a book titled "Advanced Principles of Etheric Mechanics". He searched the rest of the house, then the surroundings. He used thought acceleration and had iRobert comb through the visual input so no details were missed.
Once he found no one waiting to ambush him, Robert tempered while waiting to return. Right before crossing over to the real world, he donned his armor and activated all of his buffs.
He used sense life and his spatial sense as he moved to the front porch. He was on high alert for two good reasons.
One, Angelo Pappardelle would never waste an afternoon reading that book. It was authored by a rival the enchanter dubbed a crook and a charlatan. He bought a copy so he could have ammunition to criticize it. Finally, Angelo knew much more about the subject than what was in that book.
And two, Robert sensed no life coming from the house. No human life, to be precise. He knew the house wasn't warded because he knew Angelo didn't add wards and he could sense rats, roaches, and moths inside.
He blinked into the study and touched Angelo's corpse. Robert didn't see the stars on the man's soul. Retrocognition told Robert he'd been dead for two hours. More than enough time for all vitality and the soul to depart. It was impossible to revert that death.
A business card on the coffee table erupted in flames and burned perfectly. Robert sensed a faint trace of magic but couldn't tell the essence's affinity. It was most likely the effect of a talent.
Robert sensed the intruder teleporting seconds before he heard the slow clap.
"Robert Blaze. Well met!" The stranger said in English.
Robert stared at the man, scowling under his helmet. Not only was he a three star but all of his stars shone brightly. He believed this intruder was someone stuck without achievements to advance. He cast read thoughts. " Did you kill Pappardelle?"
The man's thoughts were in Italian, 'He's angry. Maybe this gift can bridge this chasm between us.'
"I didn't. These guys did." The man waved his hand, making several dead bodies fall to the ground.
"And how did you come into possession of the killer's corpses?"
'Because I killed them–'
"And if you killed them, why didn't you act before they had the chance to murder Pappardelle? Look, I think you want some favor from me but go away. I'm grieving a friend."
'God damn it! Who this pompous American thinks he is, to turn me down this easily?!?' The man seethed inside, though his face was a serene mask. "But of course. We can reschedule our meeting to another date at your convenience. Here's my business card."
Robert took the card and flipped it. Not that he knew what to look for, he noticed a tiny essence marker on the card. "Anyway, nice talent. Does it let you see or hear near these cards as well?" A burst of Void essence destroyed the card.
'How did he– no, he's bluffing.'
Robert had half a mind to kill this sleazy guy. Deducing he could see and hear through the card was not a big deal. The guy made his appearance at the most convenient time, in his theatrical and self-centered mind.
"I'll give you ten seconds to say what you want before I no longer consider you a friend."
'The madam will be mad if I tell him what she wants - to have him rejuvenate her. '
How did these people learn that? Pappardelle didn't tell anyone, he didn't know. Maybe if they used some sort of divination talent or spell…
"My boss wants to meet you."
"Who's your boss?"
'I can't tell him it's Madam Giovanna Boni.'
"I'm sorry but I am not allowed to tell."
"Cool. Your time is over. Go now and I won't hold a grudge against you or your boss."
The guy tipped his head and vanished in a puff of smoke and ashes.
*
*
Once he made sure no other cards were in the house, Robert sat next to Angelo and touched him. He used Retrocognition to see what happened.
A group of thugs invaded the house. Then they overwhelmed Angelo and one of them used Unholy magic to drain Pappardelle's life. When they saw what they did, the thugs quickly fabricated the "he's studying farce".
But the calling card was on the coffee table all the time. That guy could have intervened at any time but never did.
The corpses he dumped were not the same. Pappardelle's killers were still out and about.
He cast Retrocognition on an alleged murderer. The guy was not even an Arch. Minutes later, he knew that not a single one of them was, in fact, an Arch.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
*
*
Robert buried Pappardelle in a hillock overlooking the valley below. Amanda waved her hand as her magic made a bed of multicolored flowers sprout and blossom at once, covering the hillock.
The couple, in civilian clothing, mourned.
"I wish I could do something to help him," Robert lamented.
" You made sure his craft didn't die with him," Amanda consoled.
"I am going to find the ones responsible for this," Robert swore vengeance.
He stood on top of the hillock, amidst a bed of flowers and a Void-carved headstone.
"Qui giace Angelo Pappardelle, padre del moderno Ethercraft e sopravvissuto al Cataclisma del Rift." The headstone read, along the dates of birth and death.
The grieving memory thief's scarf billowed with the wind as the camera panned away, displaying the gorgeous and scenic hills and valleys of Tuscany. A sad jazz song played in the background.
"Why don't you go and search for the killers while I visit the local authorities?" Amanda suggested.
"What are you going to do?" Robert asked.
"See if Angelo had any will or descendants, then buy this property for us."
Robert lived in this place for decades. He knew the creak of every floorboard. Of course, all of this was from Angelo's memories.
But he also knew whether Pappardelle had a will or descendants unless he changed it all during the last week.
He wrote an address. "This is Angelo's lawyer. Go there, he will know everything."
Amanda kissed him on the cheek and went to the car.
Robert watched her go. Then, he turned to his Minotaurs, who were still playing a sad jazz song.
"Guys, keep watch over the property."
The Minotaurs paused to hear. They nodded and resumed their based and sad jam.
*
*
He obtained a list of "dead or please dead" bounties from the government to start with.
Robert tore the Italian criminal underground a new asshole. He raided safehouses, he raided minds, stole their money, their skills, and memories, and stole their souls as he dragged them screaming into the deep void like a vengeful grim reaper would drag them screaming into hell.
With each criminal he excised from society, the map of the Italian underworld grew. A guy who knew a guy who knew a guy condemned three guys to death by void banquet.
Eventually, he found a guy who knew a guy who killed Pappardelle. He got the whole gang, two-star killers for hire. These lowlifes had not even a chance to repent before they ceased to be. But, on the last guy, deep into the void, Robert noticed something.
He was about to release the murderer when he noticed a small clump of Unholy essence inside the man. He remembered that particular construct. Because both Amanda and he were infected by the same construct back in the Puffbloom Islands. It was Damien's Seeds of Unholy Rebirth. Though Robert was unaware of what they were called, he knew this was impossible. Damien was dead.
He studied the construct with his fairy eyes but he could only reach one logical conclusion. Damien died back then, but it wasn't his end. Somehow, his soul survived.
Robert didn't let go. Instead, he made a copy of the man's memories. He took everything even the sensory information. Then he let go.
*
*
Pappardelle didn't have any surviving relatives. He never sired children, his passion to learn and craft left no room for love. Amanda thought it was a sad way to live. Amanda heard the bad news from Angelo's smug lawyer. The property wasn't for sale. With no relatives and no descendants, Pappardelle left everything to his best friend and legal advisor, the smug lawyer with a mustache.
Amanda could admire the man's guile and boldness. Without even seeing the documents, she was sure the signature would pass the evaluation of the best graphologists on the land.
Her "no assassinations" moral boundary loved to be tested. She wasn't a pacifist and at the tender age of nineteen, already had her hands wet with blood. Human blood. But she refused to have people killed just because they were a nuisance, like Camille the animal rights NGO president (she got promoted, again), or a roadblock like this smug, sleazy, and felonious lawyer.
If Fate was an affinity, this would be her tempering technique. Enduring petty crooks who thought a few hundred million was a good enough price to sell one's moral compass.
Hers cost dozens of billions.
Amanda smiled at the slimy lawyer. "Mr. Bruno, I am sure we can reach an agreement."
Her eyes blatantly drifted to a notepad on his desk.
"I'm afraid this is not negotiable," the lawyer said with a heavy accent that reminded her of immigrant plumbers from Brooklin canned in Japan. "The late Mr. Pappardelle's estate is a part of our national heritage."
Amanda tapped her chin. She wouldn't cross the one boundary that kept her from slipping into true villainy. But was a beating from Tyrone which left this man barely alive okay? Meh. That was so third-grade. If she was going to be evil, she had to kill the warlock with his own infernal magic.
"If that's your final word, then so be it, "Amanda said as she stood up."I won't take more of your time than absolutely necessary (to finish my goals, she added internally). Have a nice day, Mr. Mario."
Amanda walked out of the office and found a limousine parked in front of the building. As he alighted on the street, the door opened. A female leg, plump like a thousand Thanksgiving turkeys combined, with ridiculous and out-of-fashion high heels squeezing the lifeblood out of her little toes appeared from behind the door.
She felt the pressure of a four-star Arch for a moment. Then she heard peals of cackling chuckles.
The woman came out and Amanda recognized her. It was Giovanna Boni, a local four-star Arch.
"Ms. Amanda Samson, well met." The woman said.
She had a Mediterranean face like a porcelain doll. Not only because it was so white it made Amanda question her ethnicity but because it was unmoving.
Would it be some sort of curse like Noah's mask? Or a botched rejuvenation job?
"Greetings, Mrs. Giovanna Boni," Amanda said politely. She really wished everyone shared her moral boundary. It would knock the teeth and the tension out of these awkward encounters If dying was off the negotiation table.
"Oh, my dear, I only came to give my greetings. You don't need to be this nervous," the woman mocked and lied, clearly savoring Amanda's distress.
Was this her move to make Robert agree to meet her? He suspected she wanted him to fix Dr. Frankenstein's cosmetic surgery. Now, Amanda was sure it was the case.
Suddenly, the young woman felt a pain in her chest. Her vision blurred.
Her last thoughts were about how typical this was. Capture the damsel, and force the Knight to come and rescue her.
Then, she blacked out.
*
*
Robert finally let go of the murderer and the void quickly erased him from creation.
It was all a ploy. Madam Giovanna Boni was the real culprit all along. She had Pappardelle murdered, then left that Calling Card guy watching for his arrival.
Killing all these criminals didn't abate his wrath. Instead, he felt they had just added more fuel to the fire.
All of the people he removed from the world deserved death, according to Italian law. Many of them were in the bounty listings he obtained. And yet, a small part of him felt bad for acting so callously.
In search of a reason to justify his actions, Robert asked what Pappardelle would want him to do. The guy had survived through the worst period in known history. An age of gods and monsters. Yet, he didn't want the common folk to suffer.
According to Pappardelle's sense of justice, these criminals lost the right to count among humanity the moment they broke the law of the land and the unspoken rules of civilization. Living for two centuries gave the enchanter a pragmatic view of the matter.
Robert knew exactly where he needed to go next.