Elsamina’s instincts and her newfound drive to survive screamed at her to get as far away from her spot as she could, and as fast as she possibly could. With all the strength her legs could muster, she bolted to the right side of the room, where shelves of wine abounded.
“Protect the boss!”
She ignored Xanthus’ surprisingly worried voice and crouched low on the ground, watching the events unfold. Her years in the underside of Arkhan’s society had honed her ability to remain composed in such situations.
That’s why even though she hid to the sides, she was careful to keep herself visible. If the assailants were particularly twitchy, and suddenly found her skulking around in their blindspot, she could get attacked out of reflex.
But if she was always in everyone’s line of sight, they would immediately know that she wasn’t a threat and ignore her.
Of course, this tactic didn’t always work, but Elsamina wasn’t exactly drowning in choices at the moment.
As expected, when two hooded men wearing black masks that covered the lower half of their faces walked into the room, their eyes momentarily scrutinized her before ignoring her completely, focusing on the biggest threats, which were all coincidentally gathered in the middle of the room.
Without even averting their gazes from Valmir and the others, the two intruders mowed down the closest guards with the ease of cutting butter with a heated blade.
“Who dares!?” Valmir visibly fumed at the assailants, no doubt upset that their deal might fall through.
Not bothering to answer the boss's question, the intruders threw what looked to be thumb-sized metallic balls to the floor with a casual flick of their wrists. The moment the little balls collided with the floor with a thunk, they started glowing with blue light and vibrating rapidly, to the extent that even the air shook.
Elsamina didn't know what those were, but she didn't miss how Ballor, Valmir, and the elderly Greyvial all had blanched faces after looking at the things.
"Fuck!" Ballor cursed at the top of his lungs while drawing his wand and firing off a spell. A lump of green magic power erupted from the tip, becoming a streak of light that aimed for an intruder’s chest.
However, the intruder didn’t react at all, perhaps finding the spell too fast for his eyes to follow.
An arrogant smirk bloomed on Ballor’s face, seemingly confident of his victory. But in the next moment, his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when he saw his spell bounce off the intruder’s thick black cloak.
“Sorciron cloaks! Fuck!” Ballor exclaimed, immediately turning around to flee toward the safety — which in this case, meant anywhere that placed Xanthus and the other fodder in between the intruders and him.
The other intruder finally made his move at this time, his bloodstained blade revealed itself from behind the cloak, becoming ablaze with beautiful blue flames. As the blood evaporated, the trespasser's sword slashed upward, launching a blade of sharpened magic power aimed at Ballor’s back.
“Goddammit!” Ballor swiveled around and took out a small glass orb the size of a child's fist. The sphere easily shattered from his tightening grip, causing an explosion of blinding light to fill the room.
“Ah!” Elsamina screwed her eyes shut because of the searing pain attacking her retinas. It took a few rubs for her vision to return, but the scene in front of her was vastly different.
Ballor was standing right next to the boss and the other two VIPs at the back of the room. Although a light wound overall, there was a shallow gash on his chest, and his designer clothes were ruined.
Xanthus had charged forward at some point and was now exchanging sword strikes with the first intruder. Their weapons were like a blur to Elsamina, and she was once again reminded how Xanthus was praised as the sharpest blade in the underworld of Arkhan.
It seemed like she wasn't the only one who couldn't track their movements either, since most of the remaining guards in the room were staring at the fight with equal parts awe and fear, not daring to insert themselves into such a high-level confrontation.
“H-hey, Xanthus…” Ballor’s breathing turned rough as he procured a vial of purple liquid and poured it all over his wound. The wound sizzled and smoked, causing him to wince in pain. That, however, did not stop him from yelling at his colleague. “Stop fooling around and kill that motherfucker! What’s taking you so long!?”
Xanthus backed off from the engagement, a small line of blood traced on his right cheek. “It’s not as easy as you make it sound… and I have to keep an eye on the other one too.”
Ballor nervously gulped down a mouthful of saliva, turning toward the old merchant in the room. “Greyviel you withered piece of shit! What’re you just staring at!? You were really threatening earlier, where’s all your toughness now, huh!?”
“Enough, Ballor.” Valir wiped off the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead. While throwing a cold glance at the VIPs scurrying to the back, a jewel-encrusted wand materialized in his hand, which he then flourished to form a golden barrier to protect himself.
Elsamina knew the meaning of the boss's actions. Now that their situations were so dire, he had to prioritize his life over some deal, so he had no leeway to spend effort in securing the VIPs. Elvar and his ball of lard would be left to fend for themselves.
“Now’s not the time for squabbling.” The Boss growled. “It’s obvious they aren’t your everyday thugs, so get your shit together, fool. They even prepared mana jammers for us, so we'll be losing the use of sorcery very soon.”
In response, Ballor scoffed but didn’t make more of a fuss.
Greyviel also stayed silent, taking out a long wooden wand from his cloak. With a sigh, he complained. “To think I became a merchant exactly because I wanted to avoid fighting on the front lines like this. And here I am, drawing my wand yet again…”
Elsamina, knowing that the climax of the battle would be arriving soon, shrunk into herself further. She resisted the urge to hide behind a shelf since her suspicious movements might be met by a blade of magic power. Anxiety gradually filled her mind and body as she looked toward the two intruders, who had been strangely quiet.
‘What are they doing…?’
While the first intruder fought with Xanthus, the other one had just stood to the side and watched, cutting down the occasional courageous guard. And now, they were both idling by the doorway, letting Ballor and the others regroup and prepare themselves.
She didn’t know who these intruders were, but if they would rid the world of someone like Ballor, then Elsamina wished for their victory. The only problem was that she didn’t know if these men would spare her after the battle. At this point in her life, she no longer cared if they kept her around to toy with her body, but what if they just outright killed her to get rid of all witnesses?
As she weighed her options, Elsamina noticed that a strange silence had filled the air — or rather, the previously noisy and chaotic atmosphere had seemingly died down.
“W-what…” Ballor’s jaw almost dropped as he gazed at the doorway in horror.
Two more intruders walked into the room. Their clothes and equipment were an exact replica of the previous two, except theirs was considerably more bloody, leaving a trail of crimson footsteps in their wake.
One of the newcomers tossed something at the group, making Ballor flinch and prepare a spell.
But the man soon realized that he didn’t have to.
Alwick the butler’s severed head sailed across the air before hitting the barrier that protected the three sorcerers of the Silver Cross. It bounced off with a comical plonk, before landing on the red carpet and staining it with a deeper crimson.
Elsamina’s eyes were glued to the face of a man she’d just seen breathing and talking just a few minutes ago. The head’s dead gaze seemed to stare off into eternity, sending a shiver down her spine — as if foretelling that this would be her fate as well.
‘They were buying time…’
The first two intruders weren’t just idling around. Elsamina realized that they had been waiting for their comrades to annihilate all of the forces in the lobby. And now, their full force would focus on getting rid of the higher-ups.
‘This looks really bad…’ Elsamina couldn’t help but break into a grin as she sent a glance toward the man she hated most in the world, almost forgetting about the danger to her own life. ‘...for them.’
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Without a moment's hesitation, one of the fresh intruders swiftly aimed a menacing firearm directly at Ballor.
“A gun…?” Ballor sneered, procuring another glass orb from thin air. “You think that toy can do anything to this shield, you fuc—
Without warning, Ballor’s body jerked backward as his shoulder exploded.
“AHHHH! FUCK!” he screeched, tears, snot, and drool flowing down his face as he cradled his injury.
“Spellbane bullets!” Greyviel hissed, immediately pointing his wand at a nearby shelf. With a flourish, the entire thing flew across the air and landed in front of the aged sorcerer. Despite the brief respite it provided against bullets, he knew it would do little against the constant barrage of mana blades. “This is starting to look very unprofitable, Valmir! Were you not a former battlemage!? Do something!”
“It seems this is my karma…” The boss sighed as he took out a glass vial and sprinkled the contents on the writhing Ballor’s injuries. “You lot. Shields mean nothing with their spellbane bullets. And we can’t get through their cloaks with quickly casted spells. Using shelves won’t last long either, and it's not as if we have much time until their jammers completely destabilize the mana in this room.”
“Do you have something in mind, Boss?” Xanthus asked while warily eyeing the intruders.
Valmir and Ballor looked seemingly comforted by the fact that he was a warrior that didn’t depend on sorcery, so the spellbane bullets were just normal bullets to him — and they knew that he could deflect normal bullets easily. What made them anxious was the fact that the other intruders kept harassing them with a constant barrage of mana blades.
Two vials appeared in the Boss’ hand. He popped the corks and drank the contents in one fluid motion. Then, behind him appeared a large panther with red fur and bright yellow eyes. The temperature in the room rapidly increased as his magic power spread outwards.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“Buy me some time.”
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“Valter, what is that guy planning?” Reivan asked as he looked at a holographic screen created by his holostone, watching the events in the underground room unfold.
It was a good thing he had asked one of the knights to bring a device similar to a police officer’s body cam. This way, he wasn’t bored.
‘That’s the woman I was told of…’
His eyes momentarily focused on the beautiful woman cowering in the corner, before returning to the battle. He trusted that his instructions would be followed and the knights would be careful not to hurt her.
Valter hummed in thought for a moment. “Although the imperial Sorciron cloaks can deflect some small spells, they will still be penetrated by the high-powered ones. It’s a relatively common tactic in Republic versus Empire skirmishes to charge up a big spell and use it to take out the cloak-wearer. Those are quite rare after all, so wearing one was a symbol of power and authority.”
“In other words, they can take out a leader.”
“Precisely.”
Reivan rubbed his chin. “So that means their boss is a really skilled sorcerer, right?”
“Indeed. Our intelligence has revealed that he was previously an Arkhanian Battlemage, so he is likely capable of using mana augmentation to bolster his physical capabilities — on top of having a soul-bonded spirit beast like me. The beast shares its fire attribute with Valmir, so he is personally capable of elementalism as well. Apparently, he deserted the battlefield after a particularly bad rout against the empire, thereby becoming a wanted man.”
“Will that be a problem for our knights?”
“Not at all. It has been a while since we’ve warred against the republic, but our knights are still trained on how to deal with battlemages. Besides, nobody who deserts the battlefield could be formidable enough to be a threat. And that’s not counting the possibility that an injury he previously received has completely crippled his ability to use mana augmentation, pretty much restricting him to sorcery and elementalism — both of which will be made obsolete once the spell jammers fully take effect.”
“Good. Wouldn’t want any of our knights getting injured…” Reivan sighed before pointing at another part of the screen. “Then what about those other guys? They’re sorcerers too.”
Valter seemed to take a moment to recall some details. “We don’t know a great deal about Greyviel except that he is a sorcerer. But as for Ballor, he failed the Spirit Tower’s selection trial, pretty much cutting off any chances he had at becoming a Battlemage. Despite that, his sorcery skills are above average.”
“I see.” Reivan nodded in satisfaction before redirecting his attention back to the holostone’s display screen. “Well, they’re all rats in a barrel now. Let’s just hope they don’t make enough of a fuss to notify the people above ground.”
“There are no problems as we’ve already evacuated everybody above the fight. The peons in the… uh, the gang are unintentionally intimidating everyone off the premises.”
Reivan chuckled. Having competent people around you really did make things easier.
‘That said, I really should start thinking of a name for this little organization of mine…’
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It did not take long for Elsamina’s smile to vanish.
“Shit, shit, shit…!”
Having been brought up as a lady in a respectable household, Elsamina inherently avoided cursing — or rather, she couldn’t remember the last time she did.
But as she continued to cower in the corner, praying that she didn’t get caught up in the ferocious fighting between Valmir’s spirit bond and two of the intruders, Elsamina found that the curses flowed freely from her mouth.
Bullets piercing the air faster than her eyes could see, blades of mana that severed everything they passed through, the differently colored spell lights being flung here and there, bright tongues of flame that carbonized almost everything it touched, and various other things that were being deflected…
If any of them hit her, she was absolutely certain that her pitiful little life would end.
That was why she couldn’t help but stare resentfully at the enigmatic leader of the Silver Cross which she had seen for the first time today, wishing that she had someone like Xanthus protecting her from bullets and other supernatural attacks — or someone like Greyviel constantly maintaining a protective barrier to shield against anything harmful.
But she was just a helpless reed caught in multiple storms, hoping that she wouldn’t get torn apart. Still, she found solace in the fact that she didn’t have a slave collar on. It was strangely comforting to know that she would leave the mortal plane as a free woman.
‘Those poor men…’
The ordinary guards that had filled the room were all but wiped out by now, caught in between the intruders’ attacks. Being slaves, they had no other option but to charge into battle when ordered, no matter how useless they would ultimately be.
“Boss, is it ready yet…!?” Ballor asked with urgency, firing spells at the intruders to force them to cover themselves with the cloaks. “My mana and potion reserves are drying up here! And we've run out of cannon fodder too!”
“Shut up and let me focus, you halfwit!” Valmir yelled, his eyes screwed shut in focus. But then his eyes opened, a big grin on his face. “Move out of the way!”
Xanthus stepped aside, still seemingly alert to any projectiles that would fly toward the boss.
The crimson panther belched out a flurry of searing flames, forcing the two intruders retreat momentarily. It's feral eyes still locked at the intruders, it leaped back and joined its master’s side.
“Hah!” With a below, Valmir’s wand practically exploded with light, as the temperature in the room rose to even more dangerous levels, causing the various glass bottles in the room to melt rapidly. A deafening roar reverberated in the air as a beam of fiery energy surged out from the tip of the boss’ wand, heading straight for the intruders.
Elsamina marveled at the pure destructive power she felt from the spell, inwardly lamenting the fate of the intrudes she’d been rooting for.
But in the next instant, the room returned to normal as if the spell had never been cast.
The beam had disappeared, the bottles stopped melting, and the temperature returned to normal.
Thunk.
Amidst the deafening silence, a faint clatter echoed through the air, resonating like the roar of a mighty lion. All eyes turned towards the center of the room, where a small stone, no larger than a pinky finger, lay innocently on the floor.
“A runestone…!?” Ballor exclaimed incredulously. “Spell Jammers, Spellbane bullets, Sorciron cloaks, and now runestones!? Are you from the empire or the kingdom!? Just choose one, goddammit!”
With the object of her hatred’s cry, Elsamina finally realized what the item was.
Runestone.
A consumable item that allowed anyone — even the most ordinary of men — to use the technique stored within. Crafted through a meticulous process involving the rare and precious manatite crystal, as well as the expertise of highly skilled manipulators of mana, these stones were highly sought after. They were so valuable, that Elsamina's father attracted the gaze of a demon like Ballor just by obtaining one.
While predominantly utilized by Aizen's knights to conserve energy during arduous battles, their existence sparked Arkhan’s creation of the Spell Ball. These cheaper alternatives, albeit less potent and exclusive to sorcerers, could be mass-produced with comparatively attainable materials.
Elsamina knew for a fact that Ballor’s cowardice compelled him to keep hundreds, if not thousands of spell balls inside his spacial ring at all times.
‘A spell ball probably can’t contain something that could penetrate those cloaks though.’ she surmised from Ballor’s lack of using them.
‘And he probably doesn’t want to waste the money spent buying them by throwing them at someone they’re ineffective against, so he’s pushing more of the work on the others.’
Even she felt amazed at how easily she could read the scumbag’s actions and thoughts. Elsamina wanted nothing more than to lose this ability forever though.
“Such a thing…” Valmir fell to his knees, his breathing ragged from the use of too much magic power. With his head hung low and his arms trembling from exhaustion, a bright blue potion appeared in his hand. “Again. Let me try again. They can’t possibly have more than one of those Runestones. Buy me some time again, and I—”
Before the last word could escape his lips, Xanthus' sword glided through the air with unwavering precision, its trajectory aimed directly at the back of Valmir’s exposed neck. The blade's relentless advance had practically sealed the boss's fate, poised to sever the final connection between life and existence.
An urgent roar shattered the silence, as the white panther moved to intervene.
Despite the spirit beast's desperate attempt to protect its master, its swift and agile form was rendered sluggish by the shock of an unexpected betrayal.
It was already too late.
‘What just happened…’
Elsamina sat in stunned silence, watching the head roll around on the crimson-carpeted floor before coincidentally stopping right next to Alwick’s head.
As for the spirit beast, its master’s death had all but destroyed the contract that tethered it to this world, so it vanished within the blink of an eye.
“What…” Ballor stared at the ball of flesh on the floor with wide eyes and a slack jaw. “What the fuck did you just do…”
Xanthus said nothing as he inspected his blade. The cut had been so perfect, no blood or flesh could cling to the edge.
“Xanthus! I asked you a question! Answer me…!”
Turning around to face the bellowing man, Xanthus said matter-of-factly. “Valmir was a capable warrior who’d also unlocked his Qi, so to prevent him from using advanced magic power application as well, it was better to kill him right after he exerted himself in casting a big spell.”
“That’s not what I meant, you bastard!” Ballor brandished his wand and pointed it at the man who’d been guarding him all this time.
Indifferent to the actions of his former colleague, Xanthus continued. “The initial plan was to lead his spirit bond away, then coax him into entering a melee battle before I attacked him from behind… but it seems the injuries of the past cannot be healed easily. He’s grown weak, unable to use the strength of his prime. And so, we adjusted the plan a little, since he just wouldn't leave the backlines.”
“And like I said, that’s not what I’m asking, you piece of shit!”
The warrior raised a brow and sighed. “Is it really that strange, Ballor? I’m backstabbing you. I’m backstabbing all of you. As someone who’s done this more times than he can count, you should already know from my actions, no?”
“You…!”
Watching from the sidelines, Greyviel shook his head and stowed away his wand. “Five people with their Qi unleashed and able to use mana augmentation… I suppose it’s all over for this old one. Do with me as you wish, but don’t think you’ll get the wealth I’ve been hoarding.”
Xanthus threw a glance at the old merchant before saying. “It’s not necessarily over for you. If you wish, you can serve alongside me in the new organization that will be formed after this.”
“Oh, well, that sounds wonderful. I’m glad this all works out for me in the end.”
“You shitty old man!” Ballor pointed his wand at Greyviel next. “You’re going to betray the Silver Cross too!?”
"Betrayal is such a strong word, Ballor. A word that, in this humble one's honest opinion, doesn't quite fit the situation," Greyviel chuckled, his expression calm and serene. "From the very beginning, I aligned myself with this motley crew for the sake of profit. Now that the prospect of profit has dwindled, it only makes sense for me to gravitate toward those who can offer it. It's as simple as that, nothing more."
“Then die!”
A brilliant emerald glow burst forth from Ballor's wand, aimed directly at the chest of the elderly merchant. Yet, to his surprise, the spell was met with a shimmering barrier that had been erected earlier. Cracks slowly spread out before the barrier shattered completely.
But it had done its job well.
"Hoho. Truly young and foolish." Greyviel sneered, his weathered features contorted with malicious delight. Drawing his own wand, he unleashed a surge of energy that struck Ballor with unerring accuracy, propelling him through the air until he collided with one of the few fragile wine shelves that managed to survive. Shards of glass and splinters of wood rained down in the aftermath.
'Is he dead...?' Elsamina prayed.
However, despite his lack of consciousness, the bastard's chest still rose and fell.
"How refreshing," The aged merchant chuckled, stroking his flowing white beard. With a gleam in his eyes, he turned his attention back to Xanthus. "So, based on your words, it appears you won't be assuming leadership of this new organization. May I then anticipate the pleasure of meeting our new leader soon? I do believe paying my respects is in order."
In response, a boy’s youthful voice — utterly out of place in this den of evil and betrayal — echoed out from the doorway.
"Your assumptions are correct, old sir."
Elsamina's gaze followed the source of the gaze to see a pair of bright blue eyes peeking out of a black mask, similar to what the other intruders were wearing.
"Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Ken, and I represent the force responsible for making a mess of things here. Oh, and I am also your Boss now. Let’s make a lot of money together, okay?"