The hall was vast and tall, beyond anything that the boys had ever imagined a manmade structure could be. The enormous of the expansive hall was only further exaggerated by how utterly barren it was, void of any decorations or furniture save for the large and crude throne that sat all the way at the back of the room.

The ceiling, the walls, the stairs and the throne itself were all cut with perfect right angles with impossibly smooth surfaces. Logic dictated that this entire hall couldn’t have been hewn out of one massive stone, but no matter how you searched, you would not find a single seam that would indicate that this structure had been a work of human hands.

Hakimi noticed that the guards leading their group trembled as they walked into the hall. He felt his pulse quicken and turned his gaze to the man who sat upon the throne. He had heard stories of this man, but he had never seen him throughout his years in the Nameless Town. Few had seen him and even fewer had lived to tell the tale. Unbreakable, unmatched, unbleeding. This was the man he had crossed. Fang Chen Yu.

He sat indolently upon his throne, bearded chin resting on his right hand as the footsteps of his guests echoed through the hall. He gazed down on the children without blinking, not a single muscle on his face betraying his thoughts, stoic as the gate guardians outside. Two torches burned beside his throne, giving his bronze skin a rich orange glow that almost seemed magical in nature.

At last, when they were a hundred feet away from the man, the guard at the very front dropped to his knees. He lowered his head and announced as loudly as he could, “My lord, we have brought the culprits back for your judgment.”

Fang Chen Yu said nothing and the guard dared not lift his head. The other guard kicked the boys behind the knees and made them get on their knees before kneeling himself. Still, the lord of the Nameless Town said nothing.

The silence persisted for several minutes. Neither of the guards said anything. They didn't even dare to breath heavy. At last, a set of footsteps echoed from behind the throne. A gaunt but well-shaven man in his thirties stepped out of the shadows, dressed in dark, muted robes. A wooden box hung by his waist, the sling across his shoulder. He bowed at the man on the throne, which finally elicited a response from the man.

Fang Chen Yu grunted and spoke nonchalantly, in a voice that was directed at no one in particular, but which demanded an answer, “Are we sure?”

The guard at the front kept his head down and replied hastily, “I have personally examined the body, but someone is already on their way to recover the body for confirmation.”

As if on cue, a dull flash of magical light spilled into the hall from outside. Vardan turned around to look and saw a man falling at incredible velocity. The hard earth glowed faintly right as he was about to hit the ground. Instead of splattering into a bloody mess, the earth yielded softly beneath the man’s feet as if it was clay, before rippling outward as it absorbed the impact of the landing.

It was another guard, the one that had run in the direction of Rayyan’s home earlier. He carried Rayyan’s body on his back, which he dragged into the hall with some difficulty. Corpses were harder to carry than living bodies. He brought the body all the way to the front of the steps leading to the throne and laid it on the ground.

“My lord,” said the guard.

Fang Chen Yu glanced at the corpse and motioned at the man in dark robes. The man stepped forward and kneeled down beside the body. One look and his expression turned into a dark and grim one. He muttered strange words of magic while feeding the body an odd liquid that leaked pathetically from the severed throat. It was hard to see in the darkness, but Hakimi could faintly make out several creeping shapes squirming down the man’s arms and into the dead body. He held his breath anxiously, praying desperately that even dark magic couldn’t bring Rayyan back to life.

For a brief moment, Rayyan’s eyes opened, but there was no light in them. The body twitched and spasmed violently, fingers curling, torso twisting and blood pouring out of every orifice. The bones crunched sickeningly as Rayyan’s body turned in unnatural ways. Vardan closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see someone’s body maimed in such a fashion, even if it was Rayyan’s. No amount of hatred could justify this. At last, several minutes later, the man in dark robes waved his hand over the corpse. A swarm of insectoid creatures unburrowed themselves from the dead flesh and vanished into his sleeve.

The man stood up and shook his head at Fang Chen Yu.

A loud crack reverberated throughout the hall. Fang Chen Yu opened his left hand and the remains of the pulverized armrest fell to the ground. The guards practically winced as one, trembling horribly in their boots. The lord of the Nameless Town had not been so furious in a long time.

The mountain of muscle lifted himself off of his throne onto his feet. Standing fully straight, his colossal figure occluded the torches behind him, casting a long and dark shadow upon his audience. He walked slowly and silently down the steps in perfectly even and measured steps. Just looking at him from a distance, Hakimi was certain that he could take a ruler to measure his stride and every stride would come back the exact same length.

The air itself seemed to quiver with tension as he approached. Vardan could see strange black markings on the man’s body as he got closer. They were tattoos, written in several different languages, arranged in odd but purposeful patterns. The guard at the front heaved in anxiety.

A thunderous thud and crack rang out. Fang Chen Yu stood over the guard, who was now halfway buried in the cracked stone floor. Now that he was no longer illuminated by the torches, Hakimi saw that Fang Chen Yu’s skin was giving off a dull bronze light of its own. The muscular man placed his meaty palm over the guard’s hand and picked him up with one hand.

“You will answer to me later,” he said.

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The guard, still bleeding from a broken nose, steadied himself on his feet and bowed.

“Yes, my lord.”

Fang Chen Yu stepped past him and suddenly appeared beside the second guard, who was instantly knocked into a wall and incapacitated in a similar fashion.

The last guard, who had brought the body back with him, took a quiet step back and stood by the man in dark robes.

Having dealt with his own men, the lord of the Nameless Town leisurely walked back up the steps and sat on his throne.

He stared at the children. Hakimi’s heart felt like it would burst out of his chest, but he lifted his head to meet the man’s gaze. This meager act of defiance seemed to have caught Fang Chen Yu unaware. He raised one eyebrow slightly and smirked. He looked at the other two children. Vardan met his gaze as well, but unlike the sharp, rebellious light in the Hakimi’s eyes, his eyes were clear and bright, without a hint of fear. Ru Meng, on the other hand, was still trapped in his own mind. Fang Chen Yu’s eyes glossed over him, slightly curious but largely apathetic.

“Come,” he beckoned.

Vardan and Hakimi stepped forward, until they were right in front of the steps, dragging Ru Meng with them.

Fang Chen Yu looked them over before saying in his booming voice, “I take it you are Rayyan's slaves?”

“Yes, my lord,” said Hakimi.

“He was a very important subordinate of mine. Did you know that?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You knew that and you did it anyway. Are you not afraid of the consequences?”

A deep calm started to take over Hakimi as the conversation began. Everything was still according to plan. He had nothing to fear.

“Not at all,” he said with an increasingly defiant tone, “because I know you have to listen to what we have to say.”

“Ooh? And why is that?”

“Because you still need someone to supply you with magistones.”

The smirk faded from Fang Chen Yu’s face. Meanwhile, the guard and the dark sorcerer standing by the side held their breaths. A mere kid threatening Fang Chen Yu himself? It was unheard of.

Fang Chen Yu stared at Hakimi silently without a word. The boy took it as a sign to keep talking, “Twenty kilograms of magistones every month. Always delivered without fail. Who will deliver that to you now that Rayyan's dead? I know why Rayyan was special. Miners aren’t special. What's special is someone who knows how to—”

The boy doubled over as a bronze fist suddenly crashed into his stomach. Hakimi crumpled to the ground and started retching. Fang Chen Yu had crossed a distance between them in a single instant.

“Watch your attitude,” said Fang Chen Yu as he sat down on a step on the stairs. He looked into Hakimi’s eyes and said, “Make no mistake. No one threatens me. Go ahead, keep talking.”

Hakimi wheezed in pain. Why his stomach again? Why do people always go for his stomach?

He sucked it in and kept talking, “I want—”

A roundhouse kick to the ribs sent him rolling across the floor.

“I know what you want. You want to take Rayyan’s place. You want to be my new supplier. But nobody makes any demands of me. You would be correct in assuming that I cannot kill you, at risk of losing my only source of magistones. However, there are far worse things than dying, as I’m sure you’re learning right now.”

Hakimi was in too much pain to even respond. Vardan leaped onto his feet, ready to jump in front of Hakimi to protect him. Fang Chen Yu didn’t even bother glancing at him. Hakimi put out a hand with great difficulty and stopped Vardan from doing anything rash.

“So what do you want, my lord?” asked Hakimi. He was finally realizing the true terror of this man. He was afraid of what he might do next, not to him, but to his friends.

Fang Chen Yu rubbed his beard and smiled, “I want you to take Rayyan’s place, of course. Here’s the thing though, I don’t trust you. Prove to me that you can deliver the goods first, and then we can talk. There are two months until the Darktide. I want double the amount of magistones every month.”

Hakimi’s heart sank, but he did not let it show on his face.

“Forty kilograms a week, then?” he said, trying to sound as confident as he could.

“Do we have a deal?” said Fang Chen Yu as he extended his right hand.

Hakimi thought for a brief moment. He had no choice. He was not in a position to negotiate. Not really. He could see the murderous intent lurking behind Fang Chen Yu’s eyes. This was his bottom line.

He reached out with his right hand and took Fang Chen Yu’s hand.

The muscular man helped him to his feet and shook the hand warmly. But he wouldn’t let go. Hakimi tried to pull his hand back, but the grip only grew tighter.

“Here’s the thing though; I don’t think this deal is fair for the both of us. You went from a slave to a free man, while I lost a very important subordinate, someone who was like my own right hand. That’s not fair at all, is it?” Fang Chen Yu explained calmly.

An ominous feeling rose up behind Hakimi's throat. He shook his head. The grip grew tighter. He winced.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Hakimi, my lord.”

Hakimi’s bones started to creak.

“I have to say, your Mandarin is excellent.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

The grip grew even tighter. Hakimi clenched his teeth and stifled his scream as the bones in his right hand shattered like glass.

“Hakimi, I don’t like to be taken advantage of. Right now, you still owe me something for the loss of Rayyan. Do you agree?”

Fang Chen Yu put all his strength into his fist. Blood and pulverized flesh started seeping out from between his fingers.

Stars went off inside Hakimi’s mind. Hakimi drew blood from his own lips as he resisted the urge to fall to his knees or simply pass out. From the wrist down, his right hand had vanished completely inside Fang Chen Yu’s grip. A single bloody tear rolled down his cheeks from his bloodshot eyes. The pain was indescribable. It seared like a thousand burning suns. It shouldn't even be possible to feel pain in his hand anymore. Every nerve had been crushed to pieces, alongside the bones and flesh and skin. Yet, he felt the agony in his own mind, a painful and ghostly echo that threatened to turn his mind to ashes.

Vardan let out a battle cry and rushed forward.

“No, Vardan!” Hakimi shouted through clenched teeth, “I got this!”

“But he—” Vardan protested, but was immediately silenced by Hakimi.

“No! We’re making a deal right now. Stand down!”

Vardan froze in spot, hesitating. He knew Hakimi was right. They stood no chance in a fight. However, this wasn't according to plan. He wracked his mind trying to come up with a solution, his heart bleeding with pain, as if Hakimi’s suffering was his own.

“So, do you agree?” Fang Chen Yu repeated the question.

Hakimi looked him in the eye but did not answer. Instead, he turned to the guard standing by the side and demanded coolly, “Your sword.”

The guard shot a questioning look at Fang Chen Yu, who gestured for him to do as he was told. He was curious to see what this boy would do.

The guard drew his sword and walked over to hand it to Hakimi. Hakimi gripped the sword tightly with his left hand. It was an unwieldy thing, too long and too heavy for a boy like himself, but sharp enough to do its job.

Fang Chen Yu looked at the boy amusedly.

Hakimi looked back at him and with a deep breath, he raised the sword over his head and brought it down on his own wrist. Pain. Immeasurable pain. The blade was caught between tendon and flesh. Hakimi gasped, but rocked the sword back and forth until it finally severed every last bit of flesh that connected his hand to his arm.

He took a step back and threw the sword onto the ground.

“There. My right hand for yours. We are even. Do you agree?”

The menacing lord of the Nameless Town opened his fist and flicked his wrist, crudely casting what remained of Hakimi’s right hand to the ground. He smiled.