Daniel Redmond watched the Saint telling stories to the Castle’s children in the courtyard under the gentle shade of an oak tree. It was a wholesome scene, but the Duke did not care for it. Or, more specifically, he did not care for the Saint himself.
The man had only arrived in the Capital a week ago, yet his influence rivaled the King’s own. Yet, his cousin had instructed everyone to welcome him and not interfere with his business. Business, that despite his extensive network, the Duke had yet to identify.
He had been unable to discover the Saint’s purpose for being here. In fact, the only thing he had been able to learn, was that before he appeared at the Castle’s gate, he seemed to not exist. There was simply nothing about him.
The Saint had appeared wearing exquisite white and gold armor and wielding Lightbringer, a blade that even the lowliest of peasants knew. A blade so widely known and identifiable, that anyone could have known it from a mere glance.
The blade’s identity had been verified the moment the King’s personal Enchantress had laid eyes on it. A woman renown for her ability to merely glance at an enchantment and know everything about it. Its effect, its power source, its duration, and if she had seen the Enchanter before, even who had enchanted it.
Yet she had been unable to identify any of the Enchantments on the blade, only that they were masterfully created and followed a rule set completely foreign to her, who knew every Enchantment Method that had been used in the last three centuries.
With that, his identity had been verified as the current Saint of Light. That alone would have given him great influence. The Saint of Light was a title for a hero of Humanity. Even Elves and Dwarves practically worshiped him. Countless stories told of the Saint as he held back Hordes of Monsters or defeated Creatures capable of destroying entire mountain ranges.
There were even stories of the Saint battling Demons. Though Daniel doubted that. As the Duke, he was allowed access to some of the most heavily guarded secrets of the continent. It was not a secret that Demons were real, though many still thought of them as fiction. But it was a secret why the Demons attacked them.
Duke Redmond knew of the war in the Heavens, he also knew that while the Gods had the advantage, it was close, requiring all their focus. Even then, Demons occasionally broke through and invaded the world. The last such occasion had been just over four hundred years ago.
Despite that knowledge, he doubted the Saint ever actually battled a Demon. The records of the last attack was detailed about how it was defeated. The Demon had appeared in the Gilaen Empire and had required all the Experts of the Empire, the Republic of Athera, the Savage City States, Lissura, and most of the Experts from the Tauras Diarchy to band together to defeat it. Losses had been minimal, but the battle had been severe.
In all the records of this event, there was no mention of the Saint of Light. But that was not why Daniel disliked the man. The Duke disliked him because of something much deeper.
In the week the Saint had arrived, he had used his handsome appearance, smooth voice, and overall charisma to gain an influence that rivaled the King’s.
Even that, Daniel was not opposed to. But if one paid close attention, and did not see him as some godly being incapable of wrong, one could see a deep seated hate.
Long ago, the Races were outright hostile to Magics generally seen as dark or evil. Magics such as Blood Magic, Necrotic Magic, or Shadow Magic. Practitioners of such Magics were openly hunted down. Over the centuries, those Magics had become accepted and even desired. Some people still saw them with suspicion, but at least open hostility was not a forgotten memory.
At least it was before the Saint arrived.
Now, the Duke’s Agents were reporting that prejudice against these so called ‘Dark Magics’ was on the rise. A steep rise. At this rate, the Duke estimated that it would turn violent within the next month.
This, could not be allowed to happen.
The Capital was the lifeblood of the Nation. Anything that happened here would echo out to the rest of Lissura. Let alone the Capital, much of Lissura’s defenses were reliant or composed of these ‘Dark Magics’. If relations fell through, at best the entire country’s defenses would fall apart, and at worst, it could devolve into a civil war.
In fact, Daniel had a meeting with one such major component of the Capital’s defenses in just an hour. A Necromancer who could summon nearly ten thousand Undead. Weak Minions, but their numbers helped bolster the defenses while also providing tireless labor. For security reasons, only four people knew who he was or what his capabilities were.
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After all, it was difficult to fight through thousands of Undead, but much easier to simply poison their summoner’s lunch.
The meeting was in regards to the Underground farms which the Summoner’s Minions were the prime workforce of. Critical work that was the Capital’s lifeblood.
Despite the importance of the upcoming meeting, he could not help but continue watching the Saint as he told the children about how he defeated a mighty Dragon. He could not prove it, nor did the Saint act in any way supportive of it, but the Duke just knew he was the cause. The Saint was always kind and considerate, but something about the glint in his eyes reminded Daniel of a predator. A monster on the hunt.
A knock on the door jostled the Duke from his thoughts.
“Come in.”
The Duke turned away from the window and sat down at his desk. As he did, the door opened to reveal one of his many messengers. This one specifically was in charge of running the messages from the Dukes operatives in the Slums.
The man was short and lithe, built for speed over power or durability. His brown hair was kept short, but he kept a small mustache neatly trimmed as well.
He briefly glanced around the room, ensuring the Duke was alone before he began to convey the message, which he memorized in order to prevent any paper trails that could be tracked or sabotaged.
“Report.”
The man shot straight, saluting with his fist over heart.
“Sir, I’m afraid what you feared has happened. Three hours ago, an Adept practicing Blood Magic was found beaten and with her throat slit in an alley.”
“What was she doing with her Magic?”
“She worked in a local clinic in the Slums, examining and cleaning patient’s blood of infection or disease. She also helped with cleaning up after particularly messy patients and operations. From what we have been able to uncover, which was not hard to do, she was well liked. She was courting a young man who worked in the same clinic and also volunteered around her community. Though as a child and young woman, she was arrested on several occasions for robbery and assault.”
“Any sign that was the reason for her death?”
“No, sir. All evidence points to her leaving that life behind after her last remaining relative, her mother, passed away. We believe it was her mother’s final wish for her to stop being a criminal.”
“What reason do you have to suspect her death is related to my suspicions?”
The man reached into his dirty slum pockets and pulled out a quarter inch thick piece of crystal. A Light Crystal specifically. Enchanted to capture an image for later viewing, at the cost of a moderate amount of Mana both during capture and each viewing.
The messenger handed the Duke the Crystal before returning to his position of attention.
The Duke channeled the necessary amount of Mana into the Crystal, and the image quickly formed on the transparent lenses.
A dirty and bloody image. It was an alleyway in the slums. Tall buildings on either side covered the narrow road in perpetual shadow. Alleys were dirty places by nature, and an alley in the slums was even worse. Everything from trash, rotten food, human waste, to even leftover fluids from the streetwalkers’ activities.
But the Duke’s attention was drawn to the broken and discolored body discarded atop a large pile of trash. Her blood trailed from one side of the alley, signaled where she was dragged from. A large collection of blood was where Daniel imagined her attackers beat her once more. The spray of blood originating from the body and painting the wall behind and around her was where her throat was cut.
She was abused, beaten, and tortured extensively before her death. That much was obvious. The Duke felt his nose twitching in anger, but he restrained himself before his subordinate.
On the wall above her, painted in her own blood, were the words, ‘Death to the heretics’ ‘Death to Demon Magics’
“How many people have seen this?” The Duke asked, putting the Crystal down and sliding it to the edge of the desk.
The messenger grabbed the Crystal and returned it to his pocket. It would later be categorized and stored in the Kingdom’s Records.
“No more than a dozen people, we had it cleaned up within thirty minutes, her body respectfully cared for. The man courting her is currently being located and taken to her so he may handle the final rites for her.
But sir, you know how it is in the slums. If a single person saw it, within the hour, a hundred people have heard about it. By tomorrow, everyone in the slums would have known about it.”
“Have you identified her attackers?”
“Yes sir. We have found all six of them. Four men, two women. Unfortunately, there was no ulterior motive or higher purpose. They got drunk that night and acted on their own.”
The Duke scowled, “That is not good. That means that they truly believed it. If people are already acting on their own, this problem is much larger than I originally thought. Where are they now?”
“Currently? Down in a safe house in the slums being…persuaded to tell us everything they know. However sir, I must say, while we will try our best, I would not expect much.”
“Nor do I. Thank you for your quick actions, and in reporting it to me. Once you are satisfied with your ‘pursuasion’, get rid of them, ensuring no one will find them. While you are doing so, spread a rumor about such attacks being orchestrated by an evil Demon worshipping cult. Make something up.
If we can get people to condemn the actions, even if they agree with them, we might get a handle on the situation enough to begin changing their mindset.”
The man saluted once more and vanished from the room in a puff of green mist.
Alone once more, the Duke looked out the window once more at the Saint, still surrounded by children, but the man was not looking at them. He was instead staring up at the window, making eye contact with the Duke with that confident grin of his.