Chapter 3: Looming Shadows

The biting chill of Novar's morning dulled Calev's senses as he and his group waited for their target along the icy streets.

Doubt gnawed at him, mirroring the skepticism in Aric's voice as he whispered, "Remind me, why are we targeting this guy again? Wouldn't the youngest be a better target?" Calev shared his doubt but knew they lacked the sway to challenge the decision.

"Look, you have to know that this is 'His' territory. Haven't you ever wondered why they call him a sna—" Calev began, but before he could finish, a sudden shove from behind nearly sent him sprawling. Sixan, a hulking half-orc with a thick Powan accent, loomed over him.

"Shut ya trap, Calev. No one is gonna listen, besaids, don't ya know he's the only one who moves alone? We were asked to bring one them" Sixan's voice was a low growl, his presence intimidating. The three other men slipped into the shadows, their eyes glinting with malice.

One of them snorted dismissively, "How dangerous can he be? It's all probably exaggerated. We have more men, idiot." Another chimed in with a sneer, "Ha, what can one guy do? It's not like he's one of those abnormal bastards who call themselves transcendents."

Aric, unable to hold back, added, "There's no smoke without fire. At least, We know what happens when people attack his brothers, but anything related to that damn Elijah is a blank! And we chose to do this in the dreaded Fortune Street, no other gangster can even openly walk past this place unless they act like civilians. Don't you even think that's odd?".

Sixan growled, stepping menacingly towards Aric, "Oh shut uff! We just need to capture him. The Boss wants to have a 'word' with him." Calev frowned slightly but stayed silent, feeling the weight of their mission.

"Shh, guys, he's coming out. Act natural," their lookout whispered urgently, eyes fixed on the target. Declan, who had been silent until now, tapped Calev on the shoulder and addressed the group before acting like he intended to buy a newspaper, "Just stick to the plan. Everything will fall into place once his carriage gets to the street's exit" he whispered.

"Letz zi if he is az zharp az they zay, hehe" Sixan comments while cracking his knuckles excitedly.

The others grunted in agreement, leaving Aric to swallow his words. Calev couldn't shake his bad feeling. He didn't want to cross that Snake, nor any of his brothers actually.

"It just had to be The Serpens boys" he groaned slightly.

But the Boss's word was law, especially with the promise of Slorins. As Calev tried to steady his breathing, the lookout's next words shattered his focus. "Uhm, Declan, he didn't take a carriage".

Declan closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The plan was unraveling before it began. They tried tailing him, but just as a Savn-drawn carriage carrying rods crossed their path, Elijah vanished...

"Where'd he go?" someone whispered, the anxiety palpable in the air.

"!!!" Another exclaimed, panic setting in.

"Let's leave now!" A third voice urged, urgency in his voice.

"What d—" a voice began, but was cut off

A flash of blue light illuminated the alley, the sharp crack of an aether pistol echoing ominously.

The man who had sneered earlier crumpled to the ground, a glowing blue hole in his forehead.

"What?!!" Calev exclaimed, his heart racing...

"Behind us!" someone shouted, fear gripping them

"Wherez he?!" The panic was rising

Bui! Bui! Bui!

Shots rang out, blue light flickering like ominous lightning. Two more fell, Declan crawling and clutching his thigh with gritted teeth, "Fuck!" he cursed.

Footsteps thundered from the alley's far end, sending Calev's heart racing wildly. Panic seized him, propelling him to dash for cover in the opposite direction. He glanced back, mouth agape, as green eyes locked onto his.

Elijah stood there, a gray coat draped over a black suit, the aether pistol smoking in his left hand and a bloodied dagger in his right. Declan lay lifeless at his feet. Elijah's breath puffed out in cold plumes, eyes calculating and predatory beneath his flat cap.

'I'm doomed!' he thought warily, Calev felt despair claw at him, realizing he might die for nothing. On the side Aric knelt, hands raised, breaths coming in panicked gasps.

"How curious," Elijah mused, eyes flicking between them. "I don't think I remember any of your faces."

"Perhaps" " his expression shifted to feigned surprise, "Could it be a relative of the deceased? That's Highly unlikely," he muttered, eyes narrowing as though he noticed something.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the alley's entrance. A neatly dressed male officer appeared, shouting, "What's going on here"

"Officer! Save us!" they cried desperately, but the officer's next words dashed their fleeting hope.

Stepping into the alley, he surveyed the scene with a practiced eye, then broke into a wide smile, "Aha, Mr. Elijah! Is that you?" His tone was casual, almost friendly as if greeting an old acquaintance.

Elijah nodded, unfazed. "Yes, Kigan. What's the problem?" His voice was calm, almost bored, as if this were a routine encounter.

Kigan chuckled, glancing at the pistol in Elijah's hand. "Wow! It's really been a while. I heard the sound of gunshots, and—" He cut himself off, smirking. "Anyway, keep up the good work, sir. Would you like me to handle the cleanup as usual"

Elijah's lips curled into a small smile, "Of course, Kigan. I'll be quick, just give me a few minutes"

As Kigan sauntered away, Calev's heart sank further. He was alone now, alone with Elijah, who turned his full attention on him.

The world seemed to shrink around them, the alley's shadows closing in, Elijah's voice was almost gentle as he spoke, "Hmm, there's one last bullet left. Why don't you just save us the stress and tell me what I would like to hear"

"Right, I suppose one of you would do..." With that, he shot Aric without an expression, Calev's hand trembled as he gripped his knife tighter, his voice barely a whisper, "W... Wh-..."

"Oh? Do you want to try it? There are no other bullets...", Elijah moved closer, placing a hand on Calev's shoulder. He adjusted Calev's collar with chilling precision, then pulled him closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur, "But you have to know that My patience is running extremely thin right now"

Calev felt Elijah's cold gaze pierce into his eyes, reading him like a book. Desperation clawed at him, words tumbling out in a stammer as he dropped his knife, "Look, Sir, I do-don't really k-know who the employer was, we usually call him 'Boss' but I heard he was from the Bluemo—"

Elijah's grip tightened, cutting him off with a sharp, "Shut up." His expression was icy, a predator toying with its prey as he murmured calmly, "I guess I gambled wrongly, you are useless but I guess the Bluemon gang is enough for now".

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Calev's mind raced, searching for a way out, but the reality was inescapable. The alley was silent, save for the quiet, unrelenting presence of the man before him. Elijah crouched down beside Calev, his expression a mask of calm detachment as he studied the man's trembling frame. The alley's shadows seemed to deepen around them, the cold air biting into their skin. Calev's eyes darted around, searching for an escape that didn't exist. Elijah's voice was soft but carried an edge of steel as he spoke, "You know, this could have gone differently. But you made your choices, didn't you?"

Calev swallowed hard, his voice barely more than a whisper, "I-I didn't have a choice. We were just following orders—"

"Orders," Elijah interrupted, his tone almost amused as he traced the edge of his dagger along Calev's jawline. "That's what they all say. But here's the thing—there's always a choice"

Calev's breath hitched as Elijah's blade glinted in the dim light. "Please... I don't know anything else, b-but-" he stammered, desperation creeping into his voice.

Elijah tilted his head, studying Calev with a cool, assessing gaze. "You're right about one thing—you don't know anything else." With a swift, practiced motion, he drew the blade across Calev's neck, the arterial spray painting the alley's walls in a crimson arc. Elijah watched with a detached curiosity as life ebbed from Calev's eyes, leaving behind a vacant stare.

He stood, wiping the blade clean before tucking it away. The sound of his matches echoed softly as he lit a cigarette, the glow illuminating his features for a brief moment. Elijah inhaled deeply, the smoke a comforting warmth against the morning chill. As he unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes fell on the light blue patch marring his skin. A frown creased his brow, and he muttered to himself, "Aether poisoning... Phase 2, huh"

He let out a sigh, smoke curling from his lips like a whispered secret. "I knew strenuous activities that accelerate heartbeat increase the progress, but if I hadn't made that sprint, I would have missed the window, and they might have recovered from their panic." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "I think I need to head out personally. Something big is going to happen, and this ominous feeling still lingers. This isn't the real danger".

Buttoning his shirt with deliberate care, Elijah whistled lightly. Kigan returned promptly, a cheerful grin on his face as Elijah handed him 100 slorins.

"Generous as always, Mr. Elijah," Kigan said with a nod. "I'll be sure to erase every trace".

Elijah nodded, exhaling another plume of smoke. "Be as discreet as possible. If possible, get a truck to assist. How are the boys now"

Kigan chuckled, his eyes lighting up with gratitude. "Oh, they're fine! As you suggested, I took them to the medical. It was the Love Bite sickness, just as you said. Juliette would love to thank you over dinner sometime. I don't know when you'd be available"

"Alright," Elijah replied, his tone casual as he dusted ash from his cigarette. "I'll stop by when I have the chance. Is anything new happening at the station"

Kigan accepted a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced motion. "Well, there's this rumor I heard yesterday. We might be getting a small team of Mechas from Section 5. Something about a Bloodkin sighted near the eastern walls, so they're fortifying sections 15, 23, 25, and our 22"

"Bloodkin?" Elijah repeated, his gaze steady despite the turmoil in his chest. "Keep your ears open for this news. If there's any new information, let me know immediately"

"Sure thing," Kigan affirmed, his expression earnest as another officer appeared at the alley's entrance. The newcomer tipped his hat in acknowledgment, and Elijah gave a short nod before turning to leave

As he walked, Elijah's thoughts churned. "Blood Kin... how can they still exist? They were wiped out during the Blood Wars 18 years ago, my father in this life died in that war." His pace quickened, though his stride remained steady. "Looks like my plan to go outside might need to be postponed until I can confirm this news, but this aether poisoning won't wait for me, especially now that it has gone into phase 2".

The streets of Section 22 blurred around him, his mind a whirlwind of calculations and considerations. "What do I do now?" he murmured, holding the smoke in his chest for warmth. The cold bit into him, and he cursed under his breath. "This damn weather... what was I thinking when I wrote this setting? Chilly mornings, warm afternoons, cold evenings. Tsk."

A passerby glanced at him, and Elijah's body instinctively straightened, his expression smoothing into indifference. He continued down the street, pushing his thoughts aside as he navigated through the bustling city. The familiar sights and sounds of Novar surrounded him, a city alive with its own rhythm, yet he remained a solitary figure amidst the crowd. His mind was a storm of contemplation, plans forming and dissolving as he considered his next moves.

As Elijah approached a familiar pub, the warm glow of its lights spilling onto the cobbled street, he paused for a moment at the entrance. The noise from within was a comforting hum of laughter and conversation, a stark contrast to the silence of the alley he had just left behind.

Pushing open the door, Elijah was greeted by the familiar scent of ale and tobacco smoke. He made his way to a corner table, nodding to the bartender who acknowledged him with a slight tilt of the head.

Settling into his seat, Elijah allowed the warmth of the room to seep into him, easing the chill that had settled in his bones despite his dislike for such an environment.

As he lit another cigarette, his gaze drifted over the patrons, observing without really seeing. His thoughts returned to the news Kigan had shared, the implications of Bloodkin sightings sending a ripple of unease through him. "Blood Kin... their existence changes everything," he mused quietly, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

Ruth approached, placing a glass of whiskey on the table before him. Elijah nodded his thanks, taking a sip and letting the liquid burn its way down his throat. The warmth was a welcome distraction, but his mind remained restless.

He knew he needed to act, to gather more information and confirm the rumors. The aether poisoning gnawed at the edges of his awareness, a constant reminder of the urgency of his situation. Yet the prospect of Bloodkin sighted in Novar was a thread he couldn't ignore.

Elijah's fingers drummed lightly against the table, a rhythmic cadence that matched the pace of his thoughts. "If I can get access to its corpse or something when it's been taken care of, it won't be a bad origin material," he muttered to himself, a chilling glint flashing across his eyes. The thought of coming up with a potion that was essentially close to immortality.

"Eli," a cautious voice called out to him from the side, pulling him out of his reverie. Upon looking over, he saw a young man, around 26 years old, with black hair featuring green highlights just like his own. Their facial features were similar, except for the young man's red pupils, a trait from their mother obviously. He wore a dark brown flat cap with a dark brown coat over his black suit, clearly mimicking Elijah's style as usual.

"What is it, Adam?" Elijah spoke before swallowing the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, his right eyebrow twitched secretly. He didn't know what his predecessor was thinking, perhaps he found the situation amusing.

Adam was Elijah's youngest brother, He was born a few years after Thomas, and over the years, he had developed a deep respect for Elijah, subconsciously mirroring him except he was an adventurous spirit, Impulsive, and had a knack for causing trouble if not properly managed, so he always moved with the level headed Thomas. It was something everyone was aware of, and close friends often teased him by calling him "Fake Elijah".

Adam cautiously said, "Uhm, Charles is looking for you. He's been really mad all morning; looks like something happened."

Nodding his head, Elijah stood up, placing a few coins next to the empty glass. "Alright, I'll head upstairs now. What about Tom?"

"He went to confirm something for Charles earlier; he should be back any moment now," Adam responded curtly.

Elijah gave a brief nod, acknowledging the information as he walked to the stairs.

__

Elijah walked with measured steps towards the room at the end of the hallway, his mind already bracing for what lay ahead.

The corridor was dimly lit, the aether-powered bulbs above humming softly, casting a warm yet ominous orange glow that seemed to pulse with anticipation.

As he approached the door, he noticed the two guards standing vigil, their presence a silent testament to the gravity of the situation. Their expressions were stoic, yet a flicker of unease betrayed their otherwise impassive demeanor.

"How bad?" Elijah asked, his voice calm but edged with a hint of concern. The guards exchanged glances, their grimaces speaking volumes more than any words could convey.

Elijah nodded subtly, understanding the gravity of their silence, before rapping his knuckles against the heavy wooden door. The sound echoed, a sharp interruption in the stillness of the hallway.

"Come in," came Charles's voice from within, deep and almost weary, carrying the weight of unspoken burdens.

Elijah pushed the door open to find a scene of disarray. The room was a testament to Charles's explosive temper, furniture upturned and papers scattered in a chaotic swirl. Elijah's eyes surveyed the destruction, his mind piecing together the narrative of the storm that had passed through.

Despite the chaos, his expression remained impassive, save for the slight clenching of his jaw—a subtle acknowledgment of his brother's turmoil.

Charles sat amidst the wreckage, a glass of amber liquid cradled in his hand, his gaze fixed beyond the window as if seeking solace in the world outside. His bulky frame seemed almost out of place against the delicate sunlight peaking through the clouds and filtering through the glass.

The signature black hair with green highlights framed a face marked by both kindness and fierce determination, a knife scar etched into his neck a silent testament to battles fought and endured. His eyes, deep and contemplative for a man of 38, held a storm of emotions—frustration, regret, and an undercurrent of unyielding resolve.

"Charles, what happened?" Elijah asked, his voice low and steady as he lit a cigarette in a habitual manner, the flame illuminating his features in the dim room. He offered one to Charles, extending it with a practiced flick of his wrist. Charles accepted with a sigh, the cigarette igniting under Elijah's match stick with a soft hiss.

"Violet Monarch, you still smoke this?" Charles mused, a ghost of a smile momentarily lifting the corners of his lips. "I thought you would have upgraded to a cigar"

Elijah frowned slightly, his brows knitting together in concern. He lifted a chair to sit next to the man, "What happened?" he pressed, his voice carrying an urgency that matched the flickering tension in the room.

Charles set the glass down with a soft clink, turning his full attention to Elijah, his eyes meeting his brother's with a gravity that spoke of dire circumstances.

"We're in trouble, Eli," Charles confessed, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air between them

"What do you mean?" Elijah's voice was firm, demanding clarity amidst the chaos.

"Our cargo got hit," Charles explained, his tone tinged with frustration and disbelief. "A day's journey from the East gate. We lost contact completely last night"

"Fuck!", Elijah swore softly under his breath, smoke curling around his words as he processed the news.

He had sensed something amiss from the start, and now his fears had materialized into stark reality. A commission from an anonymous person was a bad idea no matter how you look at it, but the situation of things forced him to agree with the absurd idea, it's too coincidental.

Silence settled over them, the enormity of the loss pressing down like a physical weight, a shared burden of their precarious situation.

After a pause, Elijah spoke, resolve hardening his features. "We can't just give up like that. I'll head out with a few men immediately and check it out".

Charles shifted, his posture tense with concern, his protective instincts warring with the logic of Elijah's plan. "The conditions outside Novar have become harsher in recent years, especially with the increased frequency of red fogs. Eli, The business—"

"It doesn't change the fact that I'm the best and most reliable option for now," Elijah interrupted, his voice unyielding. "If you move, it's easily noticeable...not to mention that Thomas and Adam have never really been outside the walls."

Besides, Elijah needed to go outside to search for potion materials, he didn't have the patience to put up a commission, He had been planning to postpone but things don't usually go as planned. The whole thing seemed like a trap, especially with the ominous signals his perception had been giving him and the text from the status screen, but he didn't really have a choice, he had to go, even if it was just to get something to slow the aether poisoning.

Charles hesitated, his protective instincts at war with the logic of Elijah's plan. He knew Elijah wasn't wrong, they were the only ones among the siblings who had been outside and were familiar with the route.

His deep-set eyes held a mixture of worry and reluctant understanding. Finally, he nodded, acknowledging his brother's determination with a reluctant sigh. "Just be careful, Eli. At the first sight of a trap, retreat, We can't afford to lose you too"

Elijah nodded, accepting the weight of both Charles's concern and the responsibility that lay ahead. "Keep it between us for now," he instructed, rising to leave. "I'll be back with answers, four days at most if the cargo is still intact, two if I find nothing"

"Why two?"Charles couldn't help asking with a bewildered expression but received no answers from Elijah.

With a final nod, Elijah exited the office, his mind already strategizing the next steps in a world that never ceased testing their resilience. The hallway seemed quieter, the soft hum of the aether bulbs a reminder of the challenges yet to come, as Elijah steeled himself for the journey outside the walls.