Chapter 135: A Town on the Brink
A few days had passed and the cold wind swept through Pine Street, carrying with it an eerie stillness that blanketed the town of Reinhart. The street was desolate at this hour, the tightly closed doors and drawn curtains of its buildings reinforcing its reputation as a place of civic order, not nightlife. Pine Street, lined with offices and administrative hubs, lacked the warmth of family homes or the vibrant bustle of taverns and restaurants.
Two buildings, however, defied the silence. The first was the Enforcement Office, its windows faintly illuminated as officers worked the night shift, a constant vigil over the town’s fragile peace. The second, more surprising, was the library at the far end of the street. Through its windows, dim light flickered—a sign of activity within.
At the library's entrance, two enforcers stood guard, their stances rigid as the wind tugged at their cloaks. Tonight, a select group of trusted officers had been summoned for something unusual: guidance on magical knowledge and preparation for its dangers.
Beyond rows of dusty books and shelves towering with common knowledge inside the library, a hidden door led to a basement chamber. The space was modest—dimly lit by lanterns mounted on stone walls, furnished only with a few worn chairs, and exuding an almost oppressive air of secrecy.
Here, Abel stood at the head of a table, a calm but commanding presence. Before him lay five earrings, their stones catching the lantern light in faint, eerie glints. Around him sat Burt and five of his officers, their expressions tense but attentive.
Among them was Jenny, whose quiet determination had grown since her rescue. Beside her sat Stewart, his sharp features shadowed in the flickering light. The remaining three were familiar faces from the Mendez Brothers’ confrontation: a tall, lanky man with long brown hair tied in a bun, a muscular young woman with a confident posture, and a wiry man whose watchful eyes darted between Abel and the table. Jet was also there at the side, partaking in the training and guidance as not only was he being trained by Buurt, but Elliot also felt that it was important for the young man to be aware.
The room fell silent as Abel began to speak, his voice measured but heavy with significance. “You’ve been chosen to take the first step in adapting to the changing tides of this town. The presence of magic here is no longer something we can ignore or hope to contain—it’s woven into the fabric of Reinhart now. Magic attracts magic. What’s here will only continue to grow, and that means it’s time for us to adapt.”
Burt nodded solemnly, his usual gruff demeanor subdued as he listened. He had already been briefed on the new laws regarding the public use of magical artifacts, and while he fully supported the measures, he couldn’t hide his concerns about enforcing them.
Abel gestured toward the table, where the earrings rested. Their gems—green, azure, taupe, pink, and yellow—seemed to hum faintly, as if alive. “These are magical artifacts, unique in their construction. The stones within them hold special properties, allowing activation without the need for mana control or chants. They draw a small, almost negligible amount of mana from the surrounding environment, making them accessible even to those without magical training.”
He paused, letting his words sink in, then continued. “Each earring has its strengths and drawbacks, as you’ll soon see. Used correctly, they can give you an edge in battle or protection. But misuse—or underestimating their curses—could spell disaster.”
The officers exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of what they were being entrusted with settling heavily on their shoulders. Burt, sensing their apprehension and aware of the earrings abilities thanks to Abel, stepped forward, his voice firm but steady. “I’ll assign the earrings. I know my team, and I trust I’ll place them where they’ll be most effective.”
Abel nodded, stepping aside as Burt picked up the first earring, its green gem glinting faintly. He turned to Jenny, meeting her eyes. “This one’s yours,” he said. “You’ve shown strength in handling tough situations, and I think you’ll handle this power wisely.” Jenny accepted the earring with a small nod, slipping it into her palm and gazing at it thoughtfully.
The azure earring was next. Burt handed it to Stewart, his expression serious. “This one’s unusual—dangerous but powerful. I trust you to figure it out.” Stewart accepted the artifact with a sharp nod, his sharp eyes flicking to Abel as though gauging his thoughts.
The remaining earrings were distributed among the rest. The yellow gem, with its unpredictable transformations, went to the muscular young woman, whose confidence suggested she wouldn’t balk at its quirks. The pink earring, volatile and strange, was handed to the wiry man, whose sharp reflexes had already proven reliable. Finally, the taupe gem, with its unique mobility, went to the tall, lanky officer, whose calm demeanor promised patience in learning its intricacies.
Once all the earrings had been distributed, Abel stepped forward again, his gaze sweeping over the group making sure they fully understood the magnitude of all of this. “These artifacts can be more than tools—not crutches, not trophies. They’re dangerous, and their curses will test you. But with training and discipline, they’ll give you an edge in protecting this town and yourselves. Treat them with respect.”
Burt crossed his arms, nodding in agreement. “You’ve all proven yourselves to be capable officers. This is your chance to prove that even more—to protect this town and show that we can stand against the dangers that magic brings.”
The officers’ faces hardened with determination as they pocketed the artifacts, the weight of their new responsibility settling over them. In the dim light of the basement, the air felt thick with purpose and a hint of unease, as if the town itself was holding its breath. Tonight, they had taken the first step into a world that would change them—and Reinhart—forever.
Each of the officers under Burt tested their assigned earrings, curiosity etched on their faces. As they slipped the artifacts into place, strange sensations began to ripple through their bodies. Jenny’s expression tightened as the green gem activated, a faint glow illuminating the small room as a sharp pressure built behind her forehead. Stewart’s tongue glowed an unsettling azure as it elongated, twitching unnaturally, while the muscular officer with the yellow gem flexed her jaw, her nose transforming grotesquely into the strange tail-like weapon.
Watching this Jet was in awe, staring at the different lights that filled the room upon the earring's activation. This lit a fire in Jet, making him want to do his best to protect the town he grew up in.
All of them could feel it—the connection to the gems, an intangible link that seemed to bind them to the artifact’s magic. It was exhilarating but also deeply unnerving. The wiry man’s hand trembled as he stared at the pink earring, its volatile energy swirling with a promise of power and unpredictability.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Abel observed them closely, his voice calm but firm as he addressed their mixed reactions. “You’ve felt the power they hold, but don’t let that blind you to their dangers. These artifacts demand a price. Overusing them, or misjudging their limits, could prove deadly.” His tone darkened.
The room grew heavier as his warning sank in. Abel moved on, shifting the discussion toward a broader understanding of magic. He explained that rituals could manifest in many subtle forms, not always as grand or obvious as they might imagine. “A ritual doesn’t always look like what you’d expect. It could be drawings on walls, strange objects arranged in deliberate patterns, or even something as simple as repeated phrases spoken at specific times. Some rituals are so insidious they can affect a person’s mind without them realizing it. You need to train your eyes to see the signs.”
The officers exchanged uneasy glances, their awareness of the hidden dangers of magic expanding. Burt, ever practical, brought up a logistical issue. “The bell we use to alert each other—it’s loud, but if something bigger happens, it won’t cut it. I’ll speak to Elliot about funding for a larger town bell near the Enforcement Office, something that can signal everyone in case of a real emergency.”
Abel nodded in agreement. “A good idea. Preparedness will save lives when—not if—the next threat arises.”
As the conversation shifted, Burt posed another question. “Would you allow us to train at your estate sometime? I think the team could benefit from seeing how you handle magic, especially these artifacts.”
Abel considered the request for a moment, then nodded. “That’s fine. Let me know when, and I’ll prepare something worthwhile. The more you understand these artifacts, the better chance you have of using them effectively.”
The group continued their discussion, delving into other magic-related threats to watch for. Abel described some of the creatures from the surrounding wilderness—beasts imbued with mana, their methods of hunting often grotesque and lethal. These weren’t mundane animals; they were predators shaped by magic itself, some capable of tearing through flesh with ease, others attacking the mind or spirit directly.
As the meeting wound down, the air in the room felt tense but purposeful. The officers, though visibly shaken by the weight of what they had learned, seemed more determined than ever. One by one, they expressed their thanks to Abel, and the group prepared to leave.
They exited the library cautiously, aware of the chill night air waiting for them. Abel took the front entrance, raising his hood against the cold wind as it whistled through Pine Street. Behind him, Burt and the officers slipped out the back door, their voices hushed as they disappeared into the shadows of the quiet town.
Abel paused just outside the library, breathing in the crisp, biting air. The distant hum of Pine Street’s stillness seemed almost oppressive under the starless, overcast sky. He tugged his hood lower, casting his face into shadow, and began his walk toward home. The night felt heavier than usual, a reminder that Reinhart was on the brink of changes it might never recover from.
…
In the grand hall of the Murman Estate, the atmosphere was thick with pride and ambition. The room was an imposing space, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of vines and beasts, and the stone walls illuminated by flickering torchlight. At the center stood Ike Murman, his presence commanding as he gazed at his two eldest sons, Hector and Hubert, who stood before him with their chests puffed, exuding confidence.
Ike’s voice carried an air of satisfaction as he addressed them. “I am pleased. Pleased to see I have two sons capable of transcending the mundane.” His eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and greed as he turned to Hubert. “Tell me, Hubert—does the effect of your leech mirror that of your brother’s?”
Hubert, his demeanor proud but respectful, nodded. “Yes, Father. The metallic leech has granted me the same transformation, but...” He hesitated, his confidence faltering for a moment. “I’m not as proficient with the abilities as Hector. I’ll need more time to master it fully.”
Ike stroked his chin thoughtfully, his expression contemplative. “That’s fine. These things take time. We’ve spent years preparing for this moment. What’s another week or two?” His tone shifted to one of reassurance, but his sharp gaze betrayed his impatience.
Their conversation was interrupted as the grand doors of the hall creaked open. Ike’s face twisted into anger, his voice booming before the figure could step through. “I gave strict orders not to be disturbed! Who dares disobey me?”
The doors opened wider, and a figure stepped inside, wearing a mask marked with the number three. Ike’s expression softened slightly as recognition dawned. “Herman,” he said, addressing his third son. “You’re lucky it’s you. But I told you to knock before entering—this is a matter of importance.”
Herman, unbothered by his father’s admonition, removed his mask, revealing a face that bore the same sharp features as his brothers. His gaze was steady, though a hint of defiance flickered in his eyes. “I assumed this was a meeting about the progression of your sons, Father. That includes me, doesn’t it?”
Ike started to rebuke him, but his words died in his throat as his eyes locked onto Herman’s. He took a step back, his expression shifting to one of shock and confusion. One of Herman’s irises, instead of the family’s characteristic green, was a strange, pale gray.
“What have you done?” Ike demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
Herman’s lips curled into a smirk. “I couldn’t let my brothers get too far ahead, now could I? I’ve been working with my own contacts for weeks—pseudos tied to a local group. They’ve shared knowledge about transplants and given me a strange gray plant that prevents infection, blood loss, and corruption during the process, in addition, I traded a lot for a ritual that made the transplant process better.”
Ike’s brows furrowed, a mixture of curiosity and concern crossing his face. “And the procedure? What did you do?”
Herman rolled up his left sleeve, revealing his ulna bone, stark white and exposed. The sight was grotesque; where his original bone had been, this new foreign bone now protruded, wrapped in faint, pulsing gray veins.
“I replaced the bone,” Herman explained, his tone casual despite the horrifying nature of his words. “It was painful, I won’t lie. The process was long, and my body fought against it. But I succeeded. In time, my arm will heal and regenerate the missing skin, though it’ll look... different.” He chuckled darkly. “Think of it as a badge of progress.”
He gestured to his gray eye, which gleamed faintly in the dim light. “The eye? A side effect of the assimilation. But it’s not without benefits. I can see in near-total darkness as if it were daylight. And that’s not all.”
Herman extended his arm, the gray veins along his ulna trembling as white bone began to materialize along his forearm. With a swift motion, he slashed the air, and spikes of bone shot forward, embedding themselves in the stone wall with a dull thud. The display was both disturbing and impressive.
Hector and Hubert exchanged glances, their earlier pride momentarily eclipsed by surprise. But Herman’s triumphant grin remained fixed on his face as he turned back to Ike. “What do you think, Father? Your third son might just be the luckiest of them all.”
Ike’s initial shock gave way to a wide, maniacal grin. He approached Herman, his eyes gleaming with approval. “Lucky? No. That's our fifth. You are Brilliant. You’ve taken the initiative and proven yourself worthy. With time, your assimilation will stabilize, just like your brothers’.” He stepped back, gesturing to the three of them. “Three sons, all transcending the normal. Do you realize what this means? Reinhart will be ours—ours!”
His laughter echoed through the hall, loud and unrestrained, as his three sons stood before him. Hector and Hubert looked proud, but Herman’s smile carried a darker edge, as if there was more to his transformation than he was willing to reveal.
The Murman family’s ambitions had always been vast, but with these sons touched by unnatural powers, Ike’s dreams of domination were beginning to look less like fantasy and more like an inevitability.