Part 1.
“Oh, Hanz! Your back!?”
Marice had been waiting in his room on the second floor of the Galloping Stallion. He’d like to think he was waiting calmly and patiently; however, he was too busy stressing over his recent change in mission. How was he, someone who was regarded as less than a man by his fellow soldiers, supposed to undertake an operation involving the removal of the second most powerful man in his country? With only the help of a single spy and some other person who was codenamed “the muscle” by Hanz. Nothing to him was adding up and his anxiety levels had been rising.
“I feel sick.” He thought as he slowly rose from the stiff mattress, towards the door to unlock it. As he got near it though, it opened itself. To his surprise, there were two men in the open doorway. One of the men he recognized as being the tall thin figure of Hanz, the shadow master of the Hounds. The other person was new to him. He was shorter, though only slightly than Hanz, and had a much wider frame, dark brown hair, and eyes that looked seemed older than his apparent age. He would easily be considered to be an attractive man, but his face was currently masked by a very unwelcoming expression that made Marice feel he was like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment. “We are not alike.” Was the first thing that came to his head.
“How did you open… the door was locked?” he asked hesitantly.
The aggressive-looking man shot him a glare and said, “I just destroyed the lock. If you want to call it that.” He wasn’t necessarily wrong; all the lock had consisted of was a piece of small wood that would turn and rest into a socket on the wall next to the door. It was far from being called secure, and simply using a long thin object that could fit between the narrow space between the door and frame would allow you to unlock it. It was a definite, you get what you pay for kind of situation. However, destroying it completely seemed to be a little much.
“I… I see.” The timid man said, slowly returning to the bed. He took a seat again, trading the comfort of his rear for that of his feet. “You must be the muscle.” He eyed the other man up and down one more time before saying. “Is he really what we were waiting for?”
When Hanz had said, “Muscle”, the image of someone like Holdebark had come to his mind, and while this man was definitely better built than him, not that Marice considered himself a standard for comparison, the man in front of him lacked a certain destructive appeal that someone of Holdebark’s stature exuded. While he did have the wild aggressive vibe to him, he was more of a loose cannon type instead of a great powerful warrior.
“Sorry Haz, I was expecting something a bit more….”
“Intimidating?” finished the man.
“Ah… something like that.”
“It is called self-control, and I am doing my best.” The other two had now fully entered the room, and while Hanz had shut the door, without the lock it was creeping back open on its own. “Trust me, when the comes, Platz will realize what it means to lose.” At the mention of their target’s name, the air in the room seemed to cool a little bit.
“Alex… self-control” Hanz finally piped up.
“Sorry.” The temperature seemed to level a bit at the reduction of killing intent in the room.
“Alex… where had he heard that name before? The soldiers in the barracks?” He thought back. The name Alex was unusual, and he couldn’t place its origin.
“Marice. This is Alex, he is the one we were waiting to arrive.” He said.
“I have heard the name, but who is he?” Marice couldn’t quite recall what the soldiers had said about the person belonging to such a name.
“He’s the H…”
“I’m the guy your people dragged to this world.” Alex had interrupted before Hanz could finish. “I am only here because I am looking for someone. Hanz, and by proxy, Hordin is dragging me into this mess.” He gave a harsh glance at Hanz, who in reply gave a small bow.
It took Marice a short moment to consider everything he had heard and then to piece them all together. Finally, after what to him, felt too long he opened his mouth.
“You’re Princess Eline’s fiancé?” Alex flashed a very confused look in Marice’s direction, and Hanz appeared to be stifling a laugh at the unexpected question. By the point Alex had reached the cave with the vampire, the Princess’ new marital status had been the worst-kept secret in the capital. There had even been rumors of her purposefully spreading it around, partially to keep away potential suitors, but more than likely because she was just downright giddy with the idea of being the wife of the Hero. She proudly showed off the ring he had given her whenever she could find an excuse. The ring in question was far from worthy of being considered an engagement ring, especially for one of royalty.
“Please tell me that is not what people are saying…” The mental anguish Alex felt was visible on his face, which only added to Hanz’s enjoyment. “I never agreed to…”
“Um. Yes. At this point, the whole capital is expecting a big wedding on your return.” Marice said. He wasn’t sure why Alex seemed so distraught about being engaged to the Princess. She was rumored to be as intelligent as she was beautiful, and many nobles had been vying for her hand, even the emperor had sent an emissary demanding her hand. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
“Yeah, what are you going to tell Evona?” Hanz chimed in.
“Who’s Evona?”
“The woman he has been with since leaving Faustus.”
“You are cheating on the Princess!?”
“SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU!” Alex growled. He was feeling the makings of a migraine forming. “I never confirmed an engagement to the Princess,” he said, looking directly into Marice’s eyes. He then turned to Hanz. “My and Evona… we aren’t an item.”
“-yet.” He added, “I saw the shadows the night that Lili ran away.”
“We aren’t. She has feelings of gratitude for me, I somehow saved her in her past. It is probably the closest thing that anyone has shown to affection for her in nearly six… a good portion of her life. She claims it is love, but… I don’t know.” His voice was forlorn, and his eyes were looking beyond the small confines of the room.
“How do you feel?” asked Hanz. He had returned to a more serious tone.
“Still figuring that one out. Remember, I was married. For me, that was only about a year ago, and I…” he paused, the pain in his voice was plain. “Never mind. So, understand that I am currently unable to return anyone’s affection at the moment. While both women are incredibly attractive and undeniably would make wonderful wives, the only female in my life that truly matters to me right now is Lili.”
He straightened his back, making him appear taller, “So, we drop this discussion. You both remind me of my grandmother, nitpicking about my love life. Also, that means regardless of your mission, to me Lili comes first. You all can get your evidence from the guest.” His face darkened, “Platz is mine though. I will kill him, slowly.”
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Part 2.
They had spent the rest of the day going over the plans for the operation. Each of them had a role to play. Marice was to be the distraction, and Hanz was to grab their target. They didn’t bother with Alex, simply requesting that he not act until they had taken possession of their objective. He dismissingly agreed to their request, and now on the date of their operation, he was standing above the castle located in the center of the city.
At the altitude he was standing the wind was whistling around him, had he not been shrouded in a case of his mana, he would be shivering due to the wind chill. He was standing on a floating platform constructed entirely of mana. He was high enough in the air that people below wouldn’t notice him, even if they look directly up. Below him, everyone looked like specks moving too and frow, even the castle looked like it was some model instead of the massive structure it truly was.
Down below he could see a gold-lined carriage moving through the outer gates of the castle, it was escorted by six armored knights, all in full garb that looked more ceremonial than practical. As it came to the second gate there rose a fire at the army barracks near the first gate, growing at an unnatural pace until the entire building was alight. The commotion alerted the guards as well as the visitors, who then picked up the pace to clear the third gate, while all the local guards began rushing back to investigate the fire.
Marice had arrived at the military headquarters far ahead of his original schedule. He had originally intended to go around the city to the other branches, feigning official audits to grab onto any rumors flying around in the branch offices. Yet, at the behest of Hanz, he skipped all that and was tasked with going to the main office and creating an ‘incident’. Whatever that meant, Hanz purposefully left it vague, and to Marice’s discretion. It only had to be big enough to draw as many soldiers as possible from the nearby guard posts to it.
After showing all his paperwork to the staff, he obtained the clearance he needed to be allowed into the back rooms where all the files were. Most people that found themselves in the military are what is commonly referred to as meatheads, who had no interest in the mundaneness that was the world of paperwork. This meant he, after a simple suggestion to his escort, was left alone to his own devices. Not that many in the office could go against him if he made the order. Due to him being the only one in his position, he had acquired a special rank that reported directly to Holdebark, meaning that the only person in the building that could go against his order was the commander of the Dortmin military, who answered directly to the Margrave, and he was not actually in the building thankfully.
He had arrived early for the plan, partially because he had to ready himself for it. Marice was not a courageous man, he was an overly cautious, calculating kind of man. Alone in the back office, he took deep breaths all to psyche himself up for the mayhem he would cause. He also figured, if he was going to be here, he might as well do some actual work and look through all the local military’s expenditures for any more evidence of corruption.
Parsing through the paperwork he began to remember how difficult it was to do this the first time through for the central military’s expenditures. That at least had been kept in some kind of order. As for the Dortmin military, he was finding expenditure reports from three years back tucked with those that were from eight years back. There were reports from the last three years which were simply left incomplete. The reports from twenty-six years ago, the year after Platz had taken rulership of Dortmin, were missing entirely. Marice groaned at what he was seeing.
“How did they manage to get away with this for so long?” He questioned what was being submitted to Central Headquarters. Then it dawned on him how long it would take him to go through and fix all of that paperwork once he figured out this mess and the color visibly drained from his body. Had anyone walked into the room at that moment, they would have thought him to be a specter that had somehow managed to sneak in.
His mind then returned to the original task at hand. “I have to make a distraction,” he said under his breath. The room he was in was a filing room, with only one window that faced the direction of the castle. Through it, he could barely make out the winding path from the city to the castle in its center. The castle was located behind three small curtain walls, each of them had a single gate, and between each wall was a heavily wooded area, making it very inconvenient for would-be attackers, but incredibly convenient for would-be spies or assassins. Most of all, to Platz, it looked pretty.
He could see a small, gilded carriage making its way through the winding wooded path, just passing the first gate. Marice’s indecisive nature struck, and he began to panic about what exactly he should do to attract attention. He looked around him feverously trying to come up with an idea. One eventually hit him and the only words that came from his mouth were, “How much is this going to cost?” He quickly shoved all the reports he could inside his bag, and then rummaged until he pulled out a small leather pouch. Inside the pouch contained an assortment of items that would be useful for survival. One of those items was a firestick, it was a small metal stick that when placed against something for a short while would cause the end to heat up. It required no mana and was perfect for people like Marice who had no magic, or survival skills.
He emptied nearby cabinets, pulling at random any of the parchments he could find, not even bothering to identify what they were. He placed a pile in the corner of the room and stuck the tip of his stick against it. After a short while a small flame had started there, he then went around the room, opening as many cabinets as he could, and using a small torch of rolled-up parchment, lit by the fire, ignited everything else he could. He was mentally groaning at all the irreplaceable paperwork that was being sacrificed, but he had little time and no other thought. Once there was a substantial amount of fire in the room, he quickly saw himself out, dropping the makeshift torch in a bin down the hall.
Moving as fast as his weak legs could carry him, he exited the building in a back alley. He looked up, checking to see if he could see anything, but the bright light of the sun obstructed his ability to make out any figure. He then turned around and made his way, as quickly as he could down the alley in the direction of his only source of security, a shoddy inn located in a rougher part of town.
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Part 3.
Staring down from on high Alex said aloud, well beyond anyone’s ability to hear, “They aren’t very good in emergencies.” The fact that the men were leaving their posts to investigate the burning building showed a lack of discipline. It was something that should be left to the other branches in the city, instead of leaving the front of the castle unprotected. To add to that, the way that the knights reacted also showed a lack of proper training. When the situation had arisen, they had nearly left the carriage behind as they rushed towards the castle. Alex narrowed his eyes and quietly thought to himself before finally saying, “Your turn Hanz.”
Sometime after Marice had left, Hanz set out. Without a big enough and dark enough shadow to be found in the room, he went outside and around to the stable that a singular horse was occupying. Hanz stepped into the shadow of the building and began to dive inside. On the way down, he could have sworn the horse’s mouth dropped, but that may have also just been a figment of his imagination.
Inside the other world, his personal safe space, he could see all the shadows moving about the city. The guards out on patrol, the citizens moving about their daily lives, completely unaware of happenings beyond their city walls, and the shadow belonging to Alex, now slowly making his way downstairs from their room. Lastly, there was the shadow belonging to Marice moving about the city as quickly as his flimsy legs would take him toward the Military Headquarters.
With things progressing as planned Hanz took a rest, relaxing his body by leaning back and floating in place. There was no rush to be had, much to Alex’s annoyance. Their target had yet to arrive, and the show couldn’t start till all the pieces were in place. He instead used this time to relay information back and forth with Willian. He of course already knew what had transpired, as well as their plan of action. He had also already had a legion of soldiers dispatched to the north, to occupy and maintain public order in the aftermath.
Hanz, on the other hand, was curious about the other developments abroad. One of the Hounds had been recalled from the Beastmen Confederacy, the occupants of the old Kimimomian Dynasty, and redirected toward the Aquira Papacy in light of recent developments. Unlike Hanz though, he couldn’t move through shadows and was forced to take a boat across the water, so it would be some time before any new information could be relayed.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
All reports from the two spies in the Empire were consistent with each other and gave detailed accounts of the chaos in the capital. Recent developments in the Empire included a new draft being put in place. Training had started up under the guidance of Rufus Tiberia, the Empire’s esteemed general. He was the only hume, save Alex, who could match Holdebark. Though with Holdebark getting on in years, the younger general, who had yet to reach forty, would no doubt be the favorite to win if they fought. He was also the emperor’s to be father-in-law. With Rufus’ only daughter, Aurora betrothed to the emperor, it gave him incredible authority over the military. On the day of their emissary’s return, the betrothal was announced, and the conscriptions began.
The last of the spies was located in Methloda, where she served as less a spy and more like a diplomat. Unlike the other four members who would keep to the shadows and hide away silently collecting information. Drosera had been part of an exchange program with the head of the Merchant League, sending his daughter to Faustus in exchange for another hostage. Instead of receiving Eline however, he was given the daughter of Hordin’s closest aide. Willian had trained her himself from a young age, and unlike Hanz whose only real ability was espionage and logistics, Drosera was a gifted assassin who specialized in corrosive and poisonous substances. Yet for some years now, she had also served as Faustus’ diplomat to the League and has even been a key player in the success of their recent ventures.
With the threat of war looming over them though, there had been little movement in terms of preparation. After all, they were a league of merchants driven by profit. Even if they had a leader, who was more of a majority leader or figurehead person, without true power over the members, getting them to move for any reason not involving profit was nearly impossible. Thus, Drosera was left to sit in her hands and wait for hopeful news about Methloda’s potential involvement in the impending war.
After having been caught up on all the pertinent information, Hanz returned to looking out for the sight of their target. As he would have it, there he saw the shadow of a carriage surrounded by six mounted knights pass through the city gates. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that there was a well of anxiety building up within him. He had always been more of a sneak, hiding in the shadows and collecting information kind of person, but now he was to be the centerpiece of the entire mission. Once a stir had been caused and attracted the attention of as many of the guards as possible, he was to find the time to strike and kidnap their target.
He wasn’t accustomed to having people enter his space, and overall it wasn’t considered to be a good idea. He wasn’t sure how all the mechanics of his ability truly worked; he had just accepted it for what it was. Through a mistake in his past, he had found that bringing others into his space didn’t end pleasantly. The thing which brought him peace and tranquility tended to drive others who came with him mad as if the concept of the infinitely deep abyss was something that was beyond their comprehension. The only person he had met who seemed not to mind was Alex.
They had tested it out the day before. Having failed to persuade him otherwise, they dove together. Hanz was expecting him to writhe and scream as the others had in the past, but nothing. When Hanz moved to get a look at his face, just to make sure he hadn’t passed out, what he saw were his eyes wide and white like sauce bowls and his mouth hanging open. Instead of Alex being surprised and scared, he was instead surprised. The infinite void in front of him bewildered him.
When they finally submerged Hanz asked him, “How were you not terrified?”
“Huh? Terrified? Nah, that was amazing. It was what I imagine a spacewalk to be like.”
Both other men in the room looked at each other in confusion. “Supasu Wok?” Marice said.
There was no word for it in this world language, as there was no concept of the universe beyond their world. Magic advancement had supplanted its technological counterpart, leading the world of the physical to be left behind by the metaphysical.
“I’ll explain it another time. If there is ever a chance for me to go back there, I’d love to go.” Alex replied. It had brought him joy that his friend had enjoyed his world as much, if not more than he did.
But now, he had to use this world of his to complete his mission. Once the carriage stopped, he would rise from the shadow of it, and assault the dignitary to knock him unconscious, then bring him back down below all before anyone else had the time to react. This was the closest to real action he would ever have been, and as with anyone who was going into their first combat mission, he was partly excited and mostly terrified of the possibilities.
After having seen the shadow of his ally hobble away from the now burning building as fast as his little legs would take him, he kept a close watch on the carriage, now speeding through the third and final checkpoint, not bothering to even slow down. It did eventually slow to a stop as it rounded the fountain in front of the main doorway of the castle. The knights took positions around the carriage, three up front and the remainder in the rear. A servant came out of the building, at a quick, inelegant pace, stopping before the carriage door.
Had Hanz not been in his shadow world, all the people around the carriage would have undoubtedly heard his heavy breathing. His palms were sweaty, as was his brow, now dripping with the building anticipation. The attendant opened the door, and a foot came forth planting itself on the gravel below. Looking up from below, it was a simple leather brown boot attached to common cotton pants. The only thing fancy about the visitor seemed to be the purple brocade robe that he wore around him. “A decoy?” Hanz thought, but he didn’t have time to second guess anything. Once the man had cleared the carriage, he jumped out from the shadows. He latched on to the target with one arm around the person’s neck and his knife waving about.
He was about to strike with the back end of his weapon when he heard a laugh. “Got the sneak,” was all it said. As if it was the signal for action, the six other knights all removed their cloaks, revealing the well-polished silver armor underneath them. They moved to surround Hanz, diminishing the shadows that were his only means of escape. They equipped their shields, they were perfect accessories for the bright shining armor, as they had also been constructed from silver and overly polished until they magnified the rays of light from above.
The situation had within a mere few seconds turned on its head completely. Hanz was terrified and unsure, causing him to hesitate about what to do next. Reading the change, the man in his arms decided to strike out as well. He had managed to pull a small blade out from its sheath that was hidden under his robe and attempted to strike his captor in a backward slash. The blade tore through the fancy purple robe and into the Hanz jacket that he always wore. Hanz could feel the blade nearing his skin and the thought of death built in his mind, the memories of the poor childhood he had left behind, his kind frail mother, his abusive alcoholic father, his little sister who was now married to their friend and had a family of her own, there was his mentor Willian, his lord, the princess, even Lili and finally Alex’s face, a genuine smile across it from their last dive together.
He was expecting the blade to pierce his flesh and the hot stinging sensation to rack his mind and body. Instead, all he got was a heavy thud against his abdomen, as a bladeless dagger slammed up against him. With an “oof,” he stepped back from his attacker, creating a space. The man also jumped back and pulled back the hood of the robe. He was an ugly man, with a flat face and long, thin, dry black hair which seemed to have no sense of unity to it. He let out a sound that was hiss-like while checking on the state of his weapon.
“How’d ya do that!?” he cried. It was an unsettling voice that cut into Hanz’s already troubled mind.
“I should be dead… but, how?” He was racking his brain, replaying the moment in his head. He quickly double-checked his jacket, there was a hole, and right through the hole, a pink spot that would likely become a bruise, where there should have been a gaping wound. He shook his head, brushed aside the unnecessary thoughts, and readied his weapon in front of him. He was far from a warrior, and now he was outnumbered in a fight of seven to one. He didn’t have hope of victory, but he wasn’t about to go down willingly either.
The snake-man had thrown away his last weapon, now nothing more than a decorative handle, and pulled out two others from within his robe. He sliced at the connector on the front of his robe, revealing his lanky build underneath. He gave a stretch, feeling a few of his vertebrae pop, then reversed the grip on both blades and took a hunched position, like a viper ready to strike his victim.
By the time anyone had noticed, it was too late. Above them, as if a switch had been flipped, the light of the world was extinguished. In a moment of unchoreographed unison, they all looked up to see a large obsidian slate. The corona was like a blinding light attempting to escape the deep darkness they saw. It took Hanz a second to realize what this meant. Without the natural light from above, the soldiers in their fine armor had no light to reflect, and because of the size of the umbra, they were now inside the deepest darkest natural shadow he had ever been in.
With the return of his safety net, he confidently assumed a fighting position with his blade in hand. He was about to make a move to capitalize on the soldiers’ hesitation when someone appeared before him.
“That’s enough Hanz, it’s my turn.”
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Part 4.
From on high Alex had stared down at everything going on before him. The hastily laid plan seemed to be progressing well enough. The entourage was quickly making their way through the checkpoints, stopping at the castle's main entrance. He watched as the knights dismounted and a staff member made wide strides from the entrance to the carriage. When the robbed man stepped out into view Alex noticed something odd about him. [Inspect] had managed to pick up two things that didn’t make sense for a dignitary of the papacy.
“The pope employs bandits to represent him?” His face hardened at the realization, but then a wicked smile formed.
“Hanz… you have a rat.” He watched as his ally shot up out of the darkness and grappled with their target. “This means a change of plans.”
When the knights revealed their hidden weapons, their stunningly bright armor, he realized that the trap had been laid specifically for Hanz. He then placed a thin layer of mana around his friend, one that was imbued specifically for the destruction of metal objects. It wouldn’t last incredibly long, but it should be there long enough to get him out of his current predicament.
“Now a distraction,” he said to himself proudly. [Create], the image of a large cube of obsidian came to his mind. The smoothest darkest stone he could think of. It would reflect all the light from above, creating a large pool of darkness below. “Now you will be able to get away.”
Finally, considering the complete failure of the mission, he decided that his intervention was required. When he teleported in, none of the people had even noticed, they had been too busy staring up at the rock above them.
Hanz had been the first to return his attention down to earth. That was when Alex said, “That’s enough Hanz, it’s my turn.”
The look that Alex was wearing was not what one could call heroic, by any stretch of the imagination. His usually stern face was twisted and contorted, and the smile he was wearing sent chills up Hanz’s spine. He immediately felt sorry for anyone in the castle. This was the face of a man who was on the verge of losing all self-control, and the idea of Alex, whose power seemed all but limitless, actually removing the limiter, terrified him.
He didn’t argue with Alex’s statement. He didn’t want to be there to see what was about to happen and dropped hurriedly back down into his shadow world. None of the others had even noticed the exchange when they looked down, back toward their opponent they were surprised to see someone else. It was like some kind of transformation act at a magic show, one person had vanished and a new one had appeared. They didn’t quite understand what had happened, but they had a clear idea that he was also an enemy.
“I don’t know- “.
The troop leader was cut off when Alex raised his hand to the sky. Everyone was startled by the sudden movement and flinched in place, only to see the man standing quietly with a fist raised high. Then the first flattened out into an open palm with the fingers pointing up to the stone above. There was a long pause with nothing happening, but no one seemed brave enough to make the first move. Just as the bandit had managed to find his courage light started to shine back around them. The bright white light began reflecting off the knights’ armor illuminating Alex in a sea of radiance. Once all eyes were returned to him, and there was not a shadow to be seen, their advisory dropped his hand softly. Again, it was as if nothing had happened, just enough time for them to talk themselves back into the fight until the first rod fell.
Six long thin rods made of volcanic glass, their bases sharpened into unnaturally fine points. They fell from more than a hundred meters up in the air. They came hurtling down to earth with guided precision. They weren’t large things like logs but were thin, like spears. They didn’t crush their victims, they impaled them all the way through, from their heads down through to their buttocks. Six black rods stood around him, with a seventh hovering over their leader.
While the bandit’s attention had completely been on the death stick above him, Alex’s eyes had never left his target. He was staring at him with uncaring, unwavering eyes. It was the stare that one would give an annoying insect that just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The man didn’t even notice when Alex moved right next to him in a single stride. He barely felt the hand placed gently on his shoulder. The dark icy voice of his opponent penetrated his ear canal.
“Be very careful with your next answer. Where is the little girl that was brought in?”
“Huh?” was the response he gave. They were the last words he ever spoke. Not even a scream could escape with the obsidian rod coming at an unnaturally fast speed, it went down and through the man’s torso. His eyes were still staring, sending images back to his brain before it had ever realized that he was dead.
“There are others that I can ask,” he said as he slowly stepped forward into the interior of the castle. When he walked through the door the only person left standing outside was the single attendant that had come to open the carriage door. He had been so shocked and terrified by what he had seen, the smell of ammonia filled the air.
Inside the building, the guards had been alerted to the commotion going on outside and had rounded up near the entrance. With the loud thudding sounds that they had heard, their imaginations had run wild with pictures of large beasts or even a mob of armed men threatening to attack their master. They weren’t sure how either would have made their way through the town, as far as beasts go, maybe a summoner. Regarding the troops, it meant they would have had to fight their way here. While the latter was preferred, as fighting tired men would prove simpler than a raging beast freshly pulled from some unknown realm, it was the far less likely of the two. Regardless, the men stood ready, spears out in front of them, to combat any threat to their charge.
“Whatever comes through those doors men, you fight!” yelled a decorated older soldier in the rear. He wore a slightly flamboyant uniform, decorated with many shiny medals and ribbons that signified his many underserved achievements. He was the captain of the local military and had served his lord faithfully. He was often to go to man whenever Platz needed someone internal to disappear. With his distinguished service, he had managed to amass a significant amount of wealth, as well as a weight around his waist.
The general may have at some point had a name, but that didn’t matter anymore. Before anyone could act, a hole appeared in the door, whatever had made it had managed to grind the hole into a perfectly round tube shape. It hadn’t stopped there though, it continued through repeating the same process into the head of the men’s leader. He was still standing, sword raised in a statuesque manner, with blood oozing out from the holes in both ends of his cranium. Eventually, gravity seemed to catch up and his body fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
The person behind their leader’s assassination then calmly walked through the doorway, opening them wide revealing the corridor behind him littered with the bodies of the other men who had stood in his way.
“Where is she?” were the only words that came out of his mouth. The one thing that all the soldiers had separately concluded was the look in his eyes when he spoke. They weren’t what most would consider human eyes, well they looked like human eyes, but they lacked any depth or life. He looked in their direction, but not at them. It was as if he wasn’t even registering their existence, and it was at the point that they grasped, even if it was only slightly, the gap between them and him.
“He didn’t ask a second time, the soldier on the far right simply slumped on the ground. Their first thought was a heart attack, but the pool of blood spreading around him said otherwise.
“We don’t know!” screamed another soldier in the back with a high-pitched squeal. He had some hope that maybe that would be the end of it, that if they said they didn’t know he would simply pass them by and let them go back home. The hope was quickly dashed as one by one the men all began to drop dead. All the wounds inflicted have the same similar perfectly round entry and exit wounds.
Of course, nothing in this world, or even Alex’s world could have made perfect wounds like this. What was done was completely unnatural, and arguably impossible, that is until Alex had learned to manipulate his mana. What it was, was a perfectly round and incredibly dense sphere comprised of Alex’s unnatural element-less mana. It was coated with his special concoction of destruction magic that had worked on the Shadow Lord. Since there was nothing that could resist it, when it connected it made whatever it touched simply vanish, leaving no marks of any kind in its wake. With his [Manipulate] ability he let it whiz to and fro, an invisible orb or death that answered only to him.
“Useless.” He slowly stepped forward, eyes scanning around the room for any movement. “Platz will know.” His tone was just above a whisper, it wasn’t as if he was speaking for anyone else’s sake, but the sound of his voice kept what little bit of sanity he had reserved in place and was the way he kept track of his next objective.
He surmised that the round man’s office and living quarters would be up the stairs and began casually walking up them.
“PLATZ!” he roared, in a deep terrifying voice that shook the walls around him. It was a voice that inspire terror in anyone that would hear it, the pain and anger that he had been holding back up to this point bellowed forth, calling the name of his intended target.
There was no doubt that Platz had heard it, he would have had to have been in a magically soundproof room to have not. That was fine though, he wanted everyone to hear it, the more people that gathered, the faster he could finish all of this.
He reached the top of the stairs and right, into the hallway. It was over-decorated with fine furnishings, exquisite paintings with golden frames, red carpeting lined with gold thread, oak wood stand with vases and sculptures lined against the walls. If he had all of his senses, Alex would have wondered if Platz was reincarnated from Baroque-era France, and was trying his best to recreate Versailles, but he was far from his right mind and sent a shockwave through the hallway by clapping his hands together with great force. It shook the walls and destroyed all the closer pieces of work before it finally petered out against the intersecting far wall.
“Come out.” He said.
From a doorway, hidden within the left wall stepped out a large man. He was completely bald, a byproduct of his unnaturally hard training. His arms were massive, nearly a meter in diameter, and his wide build suited him well, but his face was incredibly ugly. It had deep cuts in it which could have been wrinkled, but at the same time maybe scars from previous battles. He wore a large greedy smile on his face.
“You caused a lot of trouble, Mr. Hero.” He said in a voice that was more of a deep rasp than an actual voice.
Alex for the first time stood motionless, his eyes fixated on his target.
“How about a little scream for me, girly?” he said.
In front of him, with a knife against her neck, was Lili.
"Hey, little one. You ready to go home." Alex said with a reassuring smile.