Protectors of the city, servants of the people, preservers of the legacy of the First Emperor.

Motto of the City Guards of Krysperium

“Seriously? You met the BasketSlayer before?” a young man, red from the wine, asked. He shook his empty cup at the woman beside him.

“Tell us how you met him. Quite the rising star, isn’t he?” the woman said. She propped her longsword against the table. Taking the bottle of wine, she smirked at the young man before passing it to their oldest member, a huge man with a large ornately decorated ax strapped to his back to match his equally large stature.

“Have some more wine,” said the man with leather straps around his arms that strained against his muscles. He doesn’t appear to be bothered by the weight on his back. “A good story needs wine and meat,” he added, offering the bottle of wine to an equally large man wearing a leather vest with a white undershirt stretched tight over his chest. 

With a nod, the man accepted the bottle from his newfound friends. He scratched his rough, wiry beard and tilted his head. “I encountered him when I was training on the mountains of Surga. That’s close to Roghinia where that guy comes from.” A team of adventurers was his company for the night. Quite experienced judging from the way they carried themselves and the wear of their equipment. The large well-built man—probably their leader—had scars all over his face. They shared tales of their missions with him and now it was his turn to entertain them.  “He didn’t have any clan members with him. I heard they usually travel in groups. Maybe he’s not part of any clan? I dunno, really. Maybe he was, then he left his clan? Possible, possible. Prolly wanted to explore the world on his own.”

“I heard the Roghinian clans have very strict rules. Can’t leave their own cities without permission…such a stiff society,” a longhaired woman said. She absentmindedly flicked the feathered tips of the arrows inside a quiver that she stacked to the edge of the table.  

“Marla, do not interrupt the story.”

“It’s fine, fine.” The storyteller chuckled. So ‘Marla’ was her name. That’s one name down. They introduced themselves to him earlier but he didn’t pay attention to their names. Their team of four came from the adventurers’ guild and wanted to treat themselves with the reward money from their completed mission. Unfortunately, all the tables on the streets near the food stalls were full.

Fortunately, for them, they found a table with only one person who was willing to share.

Fortunately, for him, they offered to buy him food and drinks.

He wiped the wine on his lips with his sleeves and continued his story. “I didn’t actually talk to him. I just spotted him from afar. He was fighting the Saurianziirs. They were having a sparring match. Imagine that. Fighting those big blue lizards. He took them down, one by one.” He took a large bite out of the meat on his plate. “Interesting guy, that BasketSlayer. I dunno what his real name is,” he said, chewing his food.

“Saurianziirs! No way.”

“They are the elite warriors of the Surgan lizard people,” scar-head man said with a hint of interest. “They do not fight anyone unless they have the blessings of their shamans. Why would they fight him, much less interact with him?”

“There’s obviously something special about him.” Marla placed her hands on her cheeks and sighed. “I hope I get to meet him.”

The young man sitting across her suddenly sat up straight. “Why do you want to meet with him?” he asked, his voice slightly raised.

“Brummer, calm down. I just find him fascinating. That’s all.”

“Then what happened, Mr. Stellios?” the lady with the sword said before the young man called Brummer could say anything.

“Stellios, a fine name,” he said, stroking his beard. Having a beard was an amusing experience. He tried twirling his beard but it was too wild. He gave up and continued his story. “He took down six Saurianziirs in a row. All of them ‘bout three or four times his size. They fought with their bare fists. No weapons or armor. He didn’t even flinch when their big scaly fists pummelled him. And…and their claws! Their claws glanced off his body. If you were there your…just amazing. He was fighting them bare-chested at that time but his skin appears to be harder than metal.”

“He fought bare-chested?”

“Marla, seriously?” The swordswoman waved her steak-knife at Marla.

“What?”

The swordswoman shook her head and tutted.

Scar-head man unslung his large weapon. It was double-headed; one head larger than the other. “Getting a bit cumbersome. I am used to its weight…just giving my back a stretch,” he said in answer to Stellios’ questioning look. “I am curious. When you saw the BasketSlayer was he wearing his black robes? And how about that basket? That’s a curious item as well.”

Stellios swept his eyes across the table. Marla’s the ranger. How about this scar-head muscleman? The mage was named Brummer. And that swordswoman. He felt slightly guilty that he didn’t take note of their names. At least he could amuse them with his story. “Nope. He didn’t have those enchanted equipment. That was ‘bout five years ago. It’s possible he found those items during that time. He travels a lot, seems like it.” 

Brummer said, “I’m sure his robes are enchanted. Not even a tiny tear after all his fights. Even after he fought that Draconyx Discipulus? No way it’s a normal robe. But his basket? I’m not so sure about that.”

Marla wrinkled her nose as Stellios stabbed his steak with his fork and took a large bite instead of slicing it. “His robe is certainly a powerful defense equipment. But I think that the basket is simply a distraction. To fool his enemies or maybe he simply likes baskets.”

“Simply likes baskets?” The swordswoman snorted. “So he just brings one along even during life and death fights just because he likes baskets?”

“You can’t detect anything, Brummer?”

“I’m not a Scryer,” Brummer said, shaking his head. He whipped out a wand out of thin air and gave it a wave. “Even if I used all of my magic, I won’t become a Scryer. While scryers are mages in a sense, not all mages have scrying abilities. Those are rare. I can sense magic, of course, but that’s different from what the scryers can detect."

“A wand?”

“Yes, Mr. Stellios. In fact, I use two! One for each hand.” He puffed out his chest and smugly smiled.

“Dual wielding wands, huh.”

“Unconventional for a mage to use two wands but it works. Brummer has never let us down with his skills,” scar-head said. He patted Brummer on his back.

“Even if we have a scryer, there are wards around the stage to stop people from directing any kind of magic to the participants. The BasketSlayer can seldom be seen if he doesn’t have a match.”

The swordswoman set her cup on the table and chuckled. “There’s no way a Scryer would join our adventurer team.”

“I saw him entering the arena once. That BasketSlayer guy. But that was only for a few seconds.” Brummer's wand vanished into wisps of light. He folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “I can’t sense anything magical about that basket of his.”

Stellios poured himself another cup of wine. “I bet you can’t sense anything from his body as well,” he said with a wink.

“What you said is true. Oddly, he feels like a normal person.”

“He’s not normal.”

“Obviously.”

“I saw him once in a magic item shop,” their leader said. He scratched his chin. “I could not sense anything from him, as well. It might be his robes? Some kind of anti-dectection magic?”

“Have you seen a Roghinian warrior before? Besides BasketSlayer,” Stellios asked the adventurer team. They all shook their heads so he continued. “Roghinian warriors have magic seal tattoos burned directly on to their skin. The power points of these seals connect straight to the mana veins of their bodies by artificial paths that burrow through their flesh. Sorta painful process, I guess. These tattoos cover their entire body. Head, arms, legs, torso. Easy to spot a Roghinian warrior.”

“The BasketSlayer doesn’t have those tattoos. He looks plain actually,” Marla said. She rolled her eyes as Brummer eagerly nodded, giving her a wink. “He’s not a Roghinian warrior, is he?” she said to Stellios.

“He is,” Stellios said.  "Black eyes, black hair."

“Wait, wait,” Marla said. “He is a Roghinian warrior? But he doesn’t have theses tattoos you were talking about.”

“Maybe he’s an outcast?”

Brummer brushed his blonde hair back. “He doesn’t follow their rules. Just traveling the world. An independent kind of person. I think I’ll like this guy.” 

“I think I like him as well,” Marla said as she gave Brummer a sidelong glance.

“I don’t think I like him after all,” Brummer snapped.

“Don’t be such a child.”

Scar-head man laughed. “Forgive this brat. He is the youngest member of our team but he pulls his own weight around.”

Stellios rubbed his face and leaned forward. “Not many people know this,” he said in a low voice, “but among the Roghinian warriors, there are those that receive special seal tattoos.”

The adventurer team also leaned closer to Stellios.

“Special tattoo? Is that why we can’t see it?”

“Yep.”

“How did you know about it?”

“I saw it when he was fighting the Saurianziirs. Bloodred seals glowing all over his body.” Stellios covered his eyes with his palm and massaged his forehead. “Scary looking symbols…I’m no expert in seals but when I saw those things, I knew I wouldn’t want to fight that guy. It was like snakes made up of symbols coiled around his body. Those things writhed and spiraled all over his body.” He poured himself another cup of wine and downed it quickly.

The group of four listening to his story looked at each other. Brummer slightly shrugged and shook his head. Scar-head had his eyebrow raised.

“I’m sure you find it hard to believe—”

“No, no! It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Marla said hastily. She looked at her teammates but they did not meet her eyes.

“Fear. Fear and nausea. Merely looking at those symbols...I’m getting headaches thinking about those things.”

“I have seen a lot, and I mean a lot, during my longs years as an adventurer. I also heard many stories. I have heard about Roghinian having tattoos. I must confess that I did not know that they burned it on their skin. Logical …that is one way to have the benefit of seals without being a sealcrafter or having items—”

“But what Mr. Stellios said is different. I don’t think that’s even possible.”

“I haven’t read about those types of seals during my studies,” Brummer said. “I see how those seals would work if they are burned on the skin and connected to the mana veins of a person. But a complicated seal formation that just appears on a body and moves around?”

“If a sealcrafter was there…It could work, I guess? Some technique of the Roghinians?” 

“But Mr. Stellios said it was just the BasketSlayer against the Saurianziir. He's not a sealcrafter, right?”

“Shut up you guys!” Marla then smiled apologetically at Stellios. “We believe you Mr. Stellios. We’re not familiar with Roghinian magic anyway.” She shot her teammates a stern look.

Stellios waved his hand. “No worries. I’m not offended. I know my story sounds bizzare. Can’t blame you if you don’t believe me,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll tell you about the ending of my story. The boss of those lizards appeared after BasketSlayer defeated six of his troops. Very big! Could prolly eat me in three bites! Or two.”

“I have heard of those. Mutant Saurianziirs. Bred to be leaders and champion warriors.”

“Yeah, those guys. Could have ripped my apart with its hands. The BasketSlayer fought that one and won!”

“With his unique seal tattoos?” Brummer grunted.

“Brummer.” The swordswoman lightly punched the mage.

Stellios finished chewing his last piece of steak and smiled.

“I could believe that BasketSlayer winning against a Champion Saurianziir. It doesn’t look like he’s using his full strength yet he is already fighting in the quarterfinals tomorrow,” scar-head man said as he grabbed the bottle of wine. He shook it. “Just enough for one more cup. I will give it to you Mr. Stellios. Thank you for your story.”

Stellios held out his cup. “I know it’s unbelievable. Maybe that’s why he has those enchanted black robes? So that people won’t see his seals.”

“That is possible.” Scar-head emptied the wine into Stellios’ cup.

“I felt that my story has not yet earned your generosity.”

“It was a nice story!” Marla raised a fist and frowned at Brummer.

“Ye-yes! Nice story.”

Sloshing around the contents of his cup, Stellios gazed at the moon. Cloudless skies. A nice mood for a hunt.

Two? How many flies did he attract? Another one came, so three. That’s a start. More flies would come. Better move on to the next part of the plan. But he’s not leaving with such a lame ending to his story.

“When the BasketSlayer fought that big boss lizard he used a weapon.” That earned him the curious looks of the adventurers. “A sword. An old rusty one. I doubt he has used that during this tournament.”

“You’re sure he has a sword like that?”

“Oh come one,” Brummer said with a skeptical look on his face. “He punches his opponents until they are knocked out. He doesn’t look like a swordsman.”

“Good observation, kid.” Scar-head man ruffled Brummer’s hair.

“He has a sword all right,” Stellios said. “His last fights in this tournament will most likely be tough. They might force him to use his sword. Then you will see that the story I’m telling you is true.”

“We’re not doubting you Mr. Stellios,” Marla said, looking at Brummer with narrowed eyes. She picked out an arrow from her quiver and whacked the young mage on the head.

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s better if you see for yourself that I’m telling the truth.” Stellios raised his cup and gave them a slight nod. “I am thankful for the wine and the food that you have shared with me.” He picked his teeth with his steak knife. “I am really grateful for this meal. I’ll remember your names. I hope that we will meet again someday so that I can repay you.” He rubbed his stomach and let out a burp. “Sorry ‘bout that. Nice meal. Nice meal.”

“Don’t mention it Mr. Stellios. Hopefully, we’ll see you around.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will. I’m sure you will.”

----------------------------------------

His heavy boots plodded along the busy street. People greeted him with a smile as he passed. “I don’t even know these people,” he muttered, smiling at another bunch of people greeting him. “Just tiny bursts of its energy and people think I’m their friend…or maybe I’m just handsome.”

City guards patrolled in pairs every few blocks or so. He gave them a salute; he would bother them later. Such a fine evening to be bothering people.

Another tiny fly arrived. They wouldn’t act just yet, not here, where there are many people—they would wait for him to get back to his hideout. They were certainly planning to catch the rest of his "group". He couldn’t have that. His night would be wasted if they just played hide and seek. The plan was to make himself a more attractive target. Or he could just place himself into a situation where they would be forced to attack. 

“Oh, wait.” He stopped walking. If they’re flies and they’re attracted to him, does that make him a huge pile of stinking garbage? Metaphors were not his strong suit. How about bees? If they’re bees then he’s a flower? Flowers do attract bees. This was not working at all. He half-shrugged and finished his cup of wine.

He raised the empty cup in front of his face and turned it over. There was a logo on the cup. “I took this cup from the food stall? Huh. No one stopped me.” He tapped the cup on his head. Should he return the cup? He doesn’t want them to think that he was a thief, but returning to that food stall would mean a delay in his plans. It would also lead him away from his intended destination. “I’ll return this later,” he said. “I’ll just say I thought this was a giveaway.”

Another street packed with tables, chairs, and people feasting. The people who came for the festival—tourists, pilgrims, warriors—provided good business for the food vendors of the city. Every cluster of food stalls would have a specialty. A long grill stretched the whole length of the street. His mouth watered as the glorious smell of barbecuing pigminimy meat filled the air. He felt around his pockets for some change and then paused. “Right. I spent my money on buying this stupid clothes that won’t fit me after this.” He gave the smoking meat line a look of longing then turned away with a hunched back.

Walking through the crowd of people, he swung his empty mug, whistling a tune. The people occupying the tables turned around to greet him. He acknowledged them with a wide grin and a good flexing of his biceps. The people around him laughed while he took different poses to show off his muscles. Very nice people. They offered him more wine, which he accepted. He apologized that he couldn’t stay and drink with them. If he stayed, he could have eaten more free food, but, regrettably, he had matters to attend.

If all the people in the world were this friendly—such a good place the world would be.

The effect of the orb on ordinary people was scary. No wonder the Church was the one that took possession of it after its owner, Ravenstone, died.

“This wine tastes good. It’s fate that I’m supposed to have this cup all along,” he said.

The smoky hint of meat that floated in the air gradually thinned along with the crowd of people. Would those flies risk an attack on him? Now, there were five of them.They knew that he knew that they were trailing him. An ambush was unlikely since there were only four of them.

He can’t have them following him until he gets home. That would lead them to the villa. He needed to be in the villa by midnight. A night of beauty sleep was essential for his big fight tomorrow. “I expected this to happen anyway,” he said.  

From the time he left the group of adventurers that treated him with food and drinks, he kept emitting weak pulses of energy from the orb. It’s probably enough. The mysterious restraints cast on his body swallowed the energy of the orb as he stopped feeding it with his joke of an elemental mana pool. The flies following him have certainly called for back-up. He simply needed them to attack him.

“Moths!” he suddenly exclaimed, startling a family walking near him. “They can be moths and I can be the light they are attracted to. A way better metaphor. I should become a writer… a dragon writer—there’s a nice ring to it.”

The family kept their distance away from him. Pulling her children near her, the mother looked at Stellios suspiciously.

He simply smiled at them and waved as they hurried away. Now to the fun part, he though, chuckling. Where were those people he wanted to bother earlier?

A pair of city guards rounded a corner and walked into view. Both of them carried a spear, their crimson vests accenting the polished silver of their armor. They tensed up as a large, hairy man shuffled shiftily towards them.

“City guards!” he suddenly shouted, startling the two men.

They gripped their spears tightly and marched towards him. “Is something the matter, sir?”

“City guards. How’s your day, guarding the city? Because, you know, you’re city guards”

“Yes, sir. We are aware we are city guards. My companion and I haven’t encountered any incidents for today,” one of the city guards said, his eyes narrowed. “So far,” he added as he examined the person who called out to them.

“Thank you very much for guarding this city! I mean, if you didn’t guard this city but you are called city guards, then does that mean that the city doesn’t exist?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Something’s wrong with him.”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I really, really appreciate the work you do,” he said, spreading his arms. “I want to give both of you a big hug!”

“Yeah, something’s wrong with him.”

The other city guard tapped his partner then pointed to the empty wine cup. “Looks like he’s drunk.”

“I’m not drunk! Look at how many push-ups I can do! Here hold my cup.” He rubbed his palms after thrusting the cup to one of the guards and went down on the ground.

The guard fumbled to take the cup and turned to his partner. “What should we do with him?”

“Sir, please take your cup back and stop exercising.”

“Five, Six, Seven… See! I can do more! Five, Six, Seven.” He huffed and grinned at the guards. “Want me to repeat that part again? Five, Six, Seven.”

“Sir, you didn’t start counting from one.”

“Hey, don’t encourage him. Let’s go already…waste of time,” one of the city guards said. “Every year. A lot of insane ones during the festival.”

“What should I do with this cup?”

The man doing push-ups on the ground jumped to his feet. “You can have that cup if you let me become a city guard.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Sir, please take your cup and move along.” The city guard held out the wine cup.

“No, no! It’s yours! If you won’t let me be a city guard then can I borrow your spear?”

“That’s not possible. sir.”

“I’ll just borrow it for a bit.” He grabbed the spear of the city guard holding the cup. “I actually have a sword. But it’s useless for cutting. Nice weapon.”

“Sir, please return that spear.” The city guard reached out for it but Stellios yanked it away.

The city guard snorted and pressed something on his gauntlet, the button started blinking red. “I’m calling for back-up. We might need to wrestle this guy. A night or two in a cell would clear his mind.”

Stellios waved the spear around happily. “Look! I’m a city guard now!” he shouted at a passing couple who hastily ran away from him. “Aw, no one likes me anymore.”

“There’s something really wrong with this guy,” said the guard with the cup.

“Hold my spear,” the other city guard said. “I’ll try to wrest that thing away from him. We’re about the same size anyway.” He jumped and grabbed with both hands the spear Stellios was swinging around. Bending his knees slightly, he gave the spear a massive pull.

Stellios let go of the spear and the guard tumbled backward. Before the other guard could react, he jerked the second spear out of the guard’s hands; the other guard fell face down. “I have another spear! I’m back in the city guards!” he shouted while holding the spear above his head. A crowd of people was gathering, curious at the large man playing with the spear.

“Out of the way, people.” More city guards came and dispersed the spectators.

“Hey, guys! So…where are we patrolling tonight?” Stellios gave the city guards a wink.

“Sir, please return that spear.” The city guards formed a circle around Stellios.

“I’m one of you guys. You can’t do this to me. I worked so hard to become a city guard and you’re just going to throw me away just like this? How cruel…this world is cruel.” He laid down on the ground and curled into a ball, tightly hugging the spear.

“What the…what’s wrong with him?” The head of the squad of city guards threw his hands up in exasperation. “Arrest him. Let’s get him examined later.”

----------------------------------------

“I’m in jail again. Feels kind of nostalgic.”

He had the whole room to himself. A bunk bed with fresh sheets and a fluffy pillow. A clean white sink. A toilet, also sparklingly clean. He ran his finger down the side of the prison grills. No dust, no rust. The current government was doing a good job of maintaining public infrastructure. Taxes well spent.

It was a pretty cozy jail. Inside the city guard station were five cells and at that time he was the only one being detained.

A fierce man with a lion’s mane stared back at him from the mirror above the sink. He stuck out his tongue at his reflection and made a couple of faces. “They’re going to be here soon. I should prepare.”

The first noticeable change was the beard; it receded back into his face, a bush mowed down. His clothes became loose as he shrunk several sizes, the once tight fitted undershirt was now a blanket draped over his frame. His hair turned black and his features rearranged into the face of Aya.

He sat crossed legged on the cold floor of the cell and closed his eyes. The restraint seals manifested themselves on his skin, holding back the rush of void mana he was drawing from the void gate. Purple light gathered at the tip of his index finger. With his eyes still closed, he drew seals on the ground—simple void seals that didn’t require a lot of void mana. The most basic disabling seals could be very effective depending on the situation.

A burning sensation crept along his skin, the seals excitedly ran along his body as if trying to plug every gap where void energies were emitted. He opened one eye to see how the restraint seal was doing. The restraint seals spun rapidly and glowed brighter, like metal heated in the furnace. This was the furthest he had pushed the curse cast on him. He was careful not to exceed its limits. Excavating a crater in the middle of the city was not his intention.

After drawing a dozen seals, he exhaled and stopped using his void powers. “That’s enough, I guess,” he said, giving his handiwork a glance. With a nod, they slithered across the floor, most of them went outside and melted into the walls of the corridor; a couple sunk into the floor of the prison cell.

Standing in front of the mirror again, he raised his arms and flexed his biceps. His muscles bulged, inflating rapidly; his body grew larger and he filled his loose clothing. The hair on his head turned brown, a bushy beard invaded the lower half of his face, and the color of his eyes also changed to brown. Stellios was back.

“Hey, guards! I need to tell you something!” He grabbed the grills of his cell and rattled its hinges. “Yohoo! Anyone there!” He shouted some more, calling for the guards while banging the prison bar.

He heard the sound of a door opening and footsteps. Three guards stood outside his cell. “What do you want?” said the guard in the middle, placing his hands on his hips. Perhaps he was someone in charge, or at least someone with a higher rank.

“Can I join the city guards now?”

“You think our work is a joke? We’d never recruit some crazy…crazy person like you.”

“Can I at least have a spear?”

“Just stay put in your cell and we’ll get your head checked tomorrow by the healers.” The guard shook his head while he motioned for the others to go back with him. “I thought he was going to say something important.”

“I’m going to say something important! Don’t go!”

The two guards sniggered but stopped as their superior snapped at them. He sighed. “What important thing do you have to say?”

“I just wanted to say that I called for you so that there will be less guards…um…guarding…outside. Thus, making this place more, let’s say attractive, yes, more attractive, to attack.”

“Attack?” The guard frowned and stepped closer to the bars. “What do you mean attack?”

“Some people want to pick me up, you see.”

Shouts and scuffles made the guards look back to the door. “What’s up there,” a guard with a boyish face asked.

The lead guard cocked his head. “You two go check it out.”

“You should call for help. That’s another reason I called you down here. If you were up there you would immediately be incapacitated.”

The guard furrowed his brows. His finger hovered over the button on his gauntlet. “Is this a tra-?”

Aya clapped his hands and startled the guard. “Press it already. And go along and help your fellows upstairs.”

“You stay put here,” the guard said, pressing the button. He sprinted to the door and made his way up.

“An emergency call and void energy signals from the same location…They are bound to send more city guards and mages. Maybe even imperial knights,” he said as the metal boots of the last city guard clanged on the stairs. “Five, get out here.” He opened his mouth to let out the demon spirit inside the orb in his stomach. The demon spirit couldn’t simply pass through his body; the restraint seals will stop it. He had to open his mouth. A plume of smoke made its way out of his mouth. It hovered above him as it formed into the demon spirit, Five.

“Greetings, master. Five is ready to serve.” The demon spirit floated down below the eye level of Aya and made an awkward bow with only its half blown-off head.

“What do you think of this disguise?”

“No one will recognize master. Master is truly cunning.”

“They’ve quieted down.” Aya looked up at the ceiling. “Five,” he said, turning to the demon spirit. He reached out for Five but his hand went past through its body—which is just that head—trailing wisps of black smoke behind. “Heh, I can’t touch you without transforming my hand. And void magic is not an option.”

“Five apologizes, master. What are master’s plans? Five will do its utmost to help.”

“No need to apologize. I just wanted to place you inside the body of one of our target so that you can eat his soul, just like what I did with that guy in the hospital.” Aya looked at the mirror again. “But if I transform my hand into a dragon’s I need to release this disguise. Pesky curse; sometimes very useful, sometimes annoying.”

“Master could kill all of them. No one would be left alive to recognize master.”

“Yes…that’s my plan. But I couldn’t risk it if they have some sort of item for surveillance attached to their body. Or if they synched with a Scryer or something. Dunno.” Aya cocked his head. Several people were descending. They were light-footed but he could hear them. “Five, go hide inside the toilet.”

“Five obeys,” the demon spirit quickly replied. It flew off and dove into the toilet without hesitation.   

“Well, well, well,” a thin female voice said. “We finally caught yo—what are you doing?” Six cloaked figures, all of them wearing a black mask with no holes for eyes, arranged themselves outside the cell of Aya.

“Five, six, seven,” Aya said. He stopped doing push-ups on the floor and stood up. Brushing his clothes, he said, “Working out is hard. I don’t seem to get past seven.”

One of the cloaked figures stepped forward. “Where is the orb? Give it to us and we will spare your life.” She was the one that spoke earlier.

“Yeah, I doubt that’s going to happen.” Aya pretended to be wiping his head. “I’m really tired after having a workout, can you guys return later?" He picked up the pillow on the bed and fluffed it. “I want to sleep.”

The woman held the bars of his cell and bent them wide enough for a person to pass through. She stepped in followed by another cloaked person. “Just give us the orb and your death will be swift and painless.” They moved closer to the man lying on the bottom part of the bunk bed.

“Hey, I thought you’re going to spare me if I give you the orb.”

“So you have the orb? Give it to—”

“Here!” Aya tossed his pillow to the woman and grabbed the head cloaked figure next to her, his fingers cracked the mask that the assassin was wearing. The female sliced it with a blade that sprung out from under her sleeves, scattering feathers everywhere. Aya leaped for the toilet, with an assassin in tow, and with one swift motion, he dunked the head of the assassin that he caught straight into the toilet bowl. “Five!” he said before rolling across the floor to evade the blades of the woman.

Another assassin entered the cramped cell. He swung his flaming fist down on Aya. The latter rolled back to the end of the cell with the toilet. The woman shrieked in annoyance and made slicing motions in the air. Aya rolled away and hid under the bunk bed. Deep cuts sliced into the part of the floor where he was lying on moments earlier.

The woman stabbed the bed with the blades attached to her arm. She tried pulling it out but they were stuck; Aya held on to them. “Let go…you annoying grakk.” A blade flicked out from the end of her boot. She kicked below the bed but Aya also caught her foot. Another blade extended from her knee which she used to stab the bed again.

Aya kicked up from underneath the bed and threw the bunk bed, the woman included, towards the prison bars. The assassin with flaming fists stepped out of the way and launched himself onto Aya. He weaved through the volley of punches and reached for the leg of the assassin that he smashed on the toilet. He swung the body around, hitting the assassin with flaming fists. The two bodies slammed on the side of the prison.

“Get him!” ordered the leader of the assassins. She sliced the bunk bed and the remaining prison bars, allowing her companions to enter the small cell.    

Two of them rushed Aya. A small purple circle appeared on the floor and spat out black ropes, tying up the legs of one of the assassins, making him fall hard on the ground. The other continued forward, pulling out two short swords that crackled with electricity. Aya ducked, caught the assassin by the waist, arched his back, and drove the attacker’s head into the destroyed toilet— destroying it even further.

“Five, get that one.” Aya said, dusting off his palms. “Good thing I did a bit of stretching before we fought. Two down. Four more.”

The assassin that Aya slammed against the wall pushed off the body of his companion, the mask loosened and fell off. “He…he…he’s dead!” Beneath the mask was a withered face with shrunken eyeballs. The assassin retreated to his group. The assassin who had fallen on the floor had already broke free of the black ropes.

“What did you do to him?” the leader asked. She crossed her blades in front of her and nodded her head. All of the remaining assassins entered the cell; they formed a half circle in front of Aya.

“I didn’t do anything. I was trying to sleep but you people attacked me.” He bent down to pick up the leg of the assassin he has just slammed into the toilet—or into what was left of the toilet. A smile crept on his face; the assassins all took a step back. Aya raised his fist in front of his face and opened it. “Boom!”

A small explosion outside along the corridor outside the cell made the assassins look back.

Aya swung the leg of the assassin and threw him at the leader. He charged and pushed back another assassin, sending him flying outside the cell into the wall. Purple seals activated, spitting out black ropes tying up the man that triggered them, holding him fast to the wall.

The assassin to the right of Aya stabbed at him with his shortswords but he caught the blades with his bare palms, breaking the blade. Seeing an opening, the assassin with flaming fists attacked the back of Aya but black tentacles covered his face. Aya kicked the assassin behind him. He grabbed the neck of the assassin who has lost his shortswords and threw him at the assassin outside the cell that was untangling himself from the black ropes of the void seals.

“He’s also dead,” the lead assassin said as she checked beneath the mask of her underling that Aya threw at her.

“Nice work, Five. You’re eating at a much faster pace.”

The leader of the assassins stumbled trying to stand up as she watched her subordinate convulsing on the floor as a black mass of tentacles covered his face.

“You guys are weak. I bet you were ordered to attack immediately after the city guards caught me.”            

“Wha...what? How did you know that?”

The leader slowly retreated outside the cell. Her remaining subordinates were by her side. 

Aya looked at them with pity. “I bet you’re supposed to be fodder. Buy time until one of your main teams gets here.”

“My team has taken down a void mage before! We are fully capable of killing you and retrieving the orb,” she said. Her voice wavered and her arms shook as she crossed her blades in front of her. 

"Meh. I bet that person you killed would barely qualify as a void mage. It is hard to train the next generation if we are hunted down. I only used simple void spells yet I already killed three of you."

“Stand fast,” she told her subordinates. “Paximillion will help us.” She took a couple of steps forward.

But her subordinates did not heed her. They bolted for the door. Aya sprinted after them, giving each of them a whack to the back of the head. “Five, eat these two as well. And eat faster. We need to get out of here.”

“Sto-sto-stop!”

“Alright.” Aya sat down on the floor in front of her. “Now what?”

“Gi-give me the orb! Now!” Her voice was a pitch higher.

“I could give it to you but it’s covered with food. You could clean it I guess. Just kidding, I won’t give you the orb. I need it.”

“What are you talking about? Whe-Where is it?” She pointed her blades at Aya. “Give it to me or-or-or…”

“Or what? You’ll give me a swift and painless death?” Aya laughed because the assassin nodded. “You’re funny. Anyway, did you see a wine cup upstairs? It’s silver, sort of plain, with just a wavy line design.”

She lowered her blades hesitantly. “Uh…yes.”

The assassin fell on her knees as Aya stood up. He dusted his behind and walked towards the door. “Five, leave that woman alone. She’s funny. Follow me upstairs after you’re done. ”

Aya quickly opened all the cabinets, throwing out their contents. Nothing. Where was the cup? He needed to return it. The place was a mess. 

“Master, Five has finished consuming five souls.”

“Five consuming five souls,” repeated Aya. He paused a bit before giggling. “So why are you a big black ball right now?”

“Five does not know, master. Five must be undergoing a transformation.”

Aya clapped his hands in delight. “Good work! Hopefully, my escape plan is already outside. Just need to get my cup… Oh! There it is!” He carefully stepped over an unconscious guard and picked the wine cup that he held. “You're going to filter all of the information you get from them later. Five, get back inside me,” he said, stretching his mouth wide. He thumped his chest and burped. "I probably need a few more assassins to get a clearer information about their operations. The ones we caught today are just scrubs like that guy in the hospital."

With a smile on his face, he polished the cup with his shirt as he walked out the door. “Too bad these clothes I just bought already have burnt marks and tears.”

More than thirty cloaked assassins waited for him outside the city guard station. They even brought along mages, he mused, noticing that some of them carried staves. This was going to be fun.

One of them had a red border design on his black robe, a rectangular sword strapped to his back, and a helmet fashioned into a dragon’s head. He said, “You’re the one who stole the orb? Don’t lie to us. We traced the last energy signature to your person. Prepare to die...Why are you kneeling? Are you begging for your life?” He threw back his head and laughed.

“I’m going to show you how I do push-ups.” Aya kept his arms at his sides and pushed off the ground. “Five, Six, Seven…”

“You didn’t start at one…Stop this! Where is the orb!”

"Where are those guys with the white armor?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied too quickly. 

Aya smirked. "So I was right. You guys are different groups. Hehe." 

"Are you making fun of me? A void mage making fun of me? You're traitors of humanity!"

“Calm down. I’m just buying some time.”

The man with the dragon head helmet drew his sword. “No matter. I will just kill you and search your body for the orb.”

“I doubt that you can take me on.” Aya stood up and picked up his cup.

“You don’t realize that you’re outnumbered.”

“Oh really?”

The man raised his sword. “Idiot,” he scoffed at Aya.

Aya rolled his eyes and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Help me! Help! Help! They want to kill me!”

A burst of light flooded their surroundings. “Drop your weapons and lay on the ground! You are surrounded,” a voice boomed.

Several mages wearing the crimson of the city guards flew above them. Light orbs floated along with them, bathing the people below with beams of bright light. "We have detected abominable energies to this place. Surrender yourselves," the voice continued. City guards armed with spears and wide rectangular shields trooped in from the surrounding streets. They numbered more than a hundred; their shields formed a wall and boxed the assassins in.

"Psst!" Aya leaned forward and whispered, "You guys call those guys with the white armor so that they can bail you out."

"Silence abomination!" he shouted, pointing his sword at Aya. After making some hand signals, the staves of the mages in his group began to glow. They formed a tight circle around their fellow assassins. 

The shield wall of the city guards glowed bright blue while the floating mages prepared to cast spells. "Cease your activities or we will be forced to attack." 

"Psst, psst!" Aya walked closer and tapped his cup on the pointed edge of the sword of the assassin.  "Fight them so that I can escape during the commotion."

"Grakk it," the assassin hissed. "I'll kill you." 

He swung his sword, his blade aiming for Aya but Aya ran away and screamed-"Help! Help! City guards, please help!"

Ropes of light shot out from the floating mages. The assassin deflected them with his sword. "Let's break out!" he ordered his troops. 

"Don't forget about your companions inside," Aya cheerily called out as he ran for the shield wall of the city guards. 

Energy balls from the assassin mages followed him. He dove for the shields at the same time that the spells reached him. A few guards were thrown away by the explosion, but most of the explosion was absorbed by the enchanted shield wall. Assassins jumped inside the mess of tumbling guards, exploding orbs and ropes of light snaking through the air. 

It was a fine night indeed. 

It started with a free dinner of steak and wine...it ended in pandemonium.

"Ah, groups in the same side but with different agendas," he said under his breath as he ran away from the melee he started. A few assassins were able to break away from the  confusion; they chased him. In turn, they were chased by city guards. "It's really hard if one side isn't united. Reminds me of the crap the Union pulled out on us." Aya shook his head to forget that memory. He should enjoy this night. Laughing  as he increased his speed, he left behind his pursuers that were fighting against each other. 

Such a fine evening for bothering people.