In a grand assembly hall, prestigious officials and noble lords filled their seats with an air of unease palpable among them. They exchanged nervous greetings, their expressions betraying tension and uncertainty. They all were gathered here on short notice after all.
At the center stage stood two young men, distinguished by a striking purple scarf draped around their necks.
One of them, a cheerful blonde with a mischievous glint in his eyes, surveyed the room with a smile. "Looks like everyone's here. Hal, would you like to take the stage today?"
His companion, cloaked and serious, rolled his eyes. "You know I'm not the best with words, especially with these pompous nobles."
"I would've asked Damien, but he's knee-deep in the mission to rescue that new recruit. Hopefully, this time they actually manage to fill in the 10th seat for real," the blonde replied.
Hal sighed irritably. "Well, setting aside that sadistic bastard, I just hope Vex doesn't mess up this mission like last time. His thirst for battle has derailed us before."
"Don't worry, I've made arrangements for them to infiltrate the fortress and plan an escape route this time. If all goes well, they’ll slip in, rescue the lad, and vanish like ghosts," the blonde assured.
Hal regarded him with a mix of skepticism and trust. "If you say so. Your plans have a way of surprising us."
"Well, my worries are after they rescue the lad, will they manage to cure him? Our lord has high hopes for the kid but I don’t think the curse can be broken yet," the blonde admitted with a sigh.
"Well, that’s the hard part- we’ll be using another substitute, I guess,"
“Even before the curse could kill him, Damien’s bizarre surgery itself might kill the poor lad. Sure Damien’s a genius and even has a working theory to fix the curse. His bad personality is also why I fear the mission might flop. Ultimately, it’s up to the lad to survive Damien’s torture, if he can even make it out alive,” the blonde conceded.
"If only the leader were here," Hal mused quietly.
"I have no idea where the hell he's disappeared to. I just hope he returns soon and takes this responsibility off my shoulders," the blonde said with a wry smile.
Interrupting their conversation, a noble stood up impatiently. "Excuse me? Everyone's here. Please begin."
The blonde grinned and approached the center stage confidently.
"It seems everyone’s here! Thank you all for gathering on such short notice!"
An agitated noble retorted from his seat,
"If you weren't blackmailing us, we wouldn't be here! Just tell us what you want."
The other nobles stared at the blonde man on stage, waiting for their response.
Undeterred, the blonde maintained his smile,
"All will be explained, but first..."
He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, sheets of paper appeared before each seated noble.
"Before you is a blood oath contract. Sign it, and everything discussed here remains confidential. Utter a word to anyone and your heart and brain will pop like a balloon, killing you instantly. So as long as you keep the secret, you're safe," the blonde declared.
Outrage erupted among the nobles.
"A blood oath contract? You never mentioned this!"
"I'm not signing!"
"This is some joke? I am leaving!"
The blonde rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to leak the evidence detailing how you stole from the church? How did you eliminate their clergy and buy those nuns as your slaves for your plaything? Then how do you write off those people killed by looters? What do you think the church will do when they find out?"
Silence fell across the room.
"That's right. You wouldn't want the Church's army wiping out your little kingdom off the map, would you?" the blonde said pointedly.
Finally, the nobles gulped down their complaints down their throats. Each noble begrudgingly signed the contract, placing the documents on their tables. They knew fate much worse remained if they hadn’t complied.
"Excellent!" the blonde exclaimed. "Now, onto the important matters..."
He clapped his hands, and the contracts transformed into small, floating paper silkworms. The nobles were surprised but before they could react the silkworms darted into the nostrils of each signer. The voice of their whimper echoed in the hall as the paper silkworm rushed inside their bodies.
"Apologies for that. The contract is sealed," the blonde stated matter-of-factly.
Finally, the nobles came to their senses!
"How dare you!"
"What is the meaning of this?"
Angry protests filled the hall.
"Sorry about the discomfort, but that's how our blood oath contracts work. Now, let's get to the heart of the matter as to why you're all here," the blonde redirected, capturing everyone's attention once more.
Turning to Hal, he gestured subtly,
"The barrier, please."
Hal raised his hand, conjuring a translucent barrier around the hall. He then steps back to a corner letting the blonde once again take the stage.
"Now, no one can eavesdrop," the blonde announced. "Before I begin, let me show you this..."
A box appeared before the blonde man, drawing all eyes with magnetic curiosity. He slowly lifted the lid, revealing a severed head, its visage frozen in an expression of agony.
Gasps and murmurs swept through the room.
"What is the meaning of this?" one of the nobles demanded, visibly shaken.
"This," the blonde explained calmly, "is the severed head of Vulpix the Soaring Beast, also known as the former Virtue of Magnanimity."
The room erupted in shock and disbelief.
"That can’t be! Lord Vulpix fell in battle against the Giant Kraken while saving the city of Hedalf in the east! It has already been decades since his death!"
“No, it's his face alright!" an elderly noble interjected, his voice trembling. "I saw him up close once. That’s definitely his face. But it's easy to forge a face,” he added skeptically.
"That's the official story," the blonde continued, unperturbed. "In truth, three of our former members challenged Vulpix and managed to sever his head. Unfortunately, it cost two of them their lives, but one survived and kept this as a memento."
"You're lying! Vulpix fought the Kraken and fell with the beast, making the sea its grave," another noble protested.
The blonde smiled coolly. "I could lie, but if you examine the head, you'll find traces of divine ethereal energy that powered Vulpix's body. Only Virtues use ethereal energy."
His words sparked a flurry of murmurs and discussions among the nobles, disbelief mingling with curiosity as they processed the shocking revelation.
“Calm down, everyone. We are short on time here,” the blonde announced, raising his voice. “Let me introduce myself. I am Milo, and this is my introverted pal, Hal. We are two of the ten high seats representing Havoc, a dark guild.”
“Dark guild?”
“Never heard about this guild.”
“Neither have I.”
Muttered the officials.
“Of course, it's a secret organization for a reason," Milo continued. "Anyway, I am here to propose a secret alliance between the Riyaz Kingdom and Havoc Guild.”
The officials were quite intrigued, but many were also skeptical. They exchanged glances, still doubtful about the whole thing.
“What exactly is your goal?” one of the nobles queried, his voice laden with suspicion.
Milo spread his arms with a charismatic smile, “The same as everyone’s! To rid ourselves of the Heavenly Virtues and establish a true order ruled by the mortals of this realm!”
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There was a moment of silence before the room erupted in cheers.
“Yes! We should be the ones in charge!” “Screw the Virtues! They think they can order us nobles around like we are some dogs!” “Yeah! We should get rid of them, forever!” “This realm doesn’t belong to those arrogant bastards!”
"Alright then, I guess we are on the same page," Milo continued a satisfied grin on his face. "So let’s discuss how to bring those Virtues to their knees, shall we?"
The room quieted, all eyes turning to Milo, eager for the details of their plan.
___________________________
Outside the formidable walls of the Citadel of Mankerret at late midnight, a group of shadowy figures clad in tight black suits and masked faces gathered stealthily. Only their intense gazes, visible through the slits of their masks, hinted at their determination.
Each member was armed to the teeth with swords, knives, and various tools of infiltration. Each of them was a skilled warrior who knew the way to kill. One figure, taller and more imposing than the rest, stepped forward to address the group.
“This time, I am personally joining this mission to ensure that there are no mistakes. I can’t tolerate another failure like the last time. On top of that, we lost men over a mere job to eliminate children, this is shameful for the Viper Guild,” he declared sternly.
A subordinate stepped forward hesitantly. “Sir, that bitch, Ultear, was personally guarding them. How do we deal with a mage of her caliber guarding the target?”
“You couldn’t handle a mere one little female mage? Show some spine! Instead, you guys turned tailed and ran! Don’t you even call yourself a man? Anyway, I’m here now to rectify our mistakes once and for all. No more blunders,” the leader retorted sharply.
“Yes, sir!” The response came in a disciplined chorus.
“Quiet down! It’s the dead of night. We don’t want to alert the guards,” he cautioned, his voice lowered.
“Yes, sir,” they murmured this time, acknowledging the need for stealth.
Among the group were four fresh recruits, young and on edge, embarking on their first mission. One of them, puzzled and anxious, asked, “Did we already fail once?”
A nearby veteran chuckled darkly. “First mission jitters, huh? Yeah, the previous squad botched it, and we lost some good men. That’s why you’re here now, to make up for those losses.”
“Will we be okay?” another recruit asked, sweat dripping from his brow.
“Don’t worry,” the veteran reassured them with a confident smile. “The boss himself is with us. He’s an elite mage. Nothing can go wrong now.”
The eyes of the four recruits glimmered with a mix of reverence and newfound hope, their confidence bolstered by the veteran’s words.
“Now don’t get too relaxed because I’m here. If you get caught or blow our cover, you’re on your own. Understand?” the leader asked in a commanding voice.
“Yes, sir!” the fresh recruits replied in hushed tones.
“Good. Let’s move,” the leader ordered, and the black-cloaked warriors stealthily maneuvered around the citadel. They headed to the back where fewer guards patrolled, and the smooth, high walls offered no easy entry except through the ceiling.
One warrior stepped forward, using his arms to create stone slabs jutting out from the wall, forming makeshift stairs. Quietly, the group ascended one by one. Another mage cast a spell, creating an invisible barrier that shielded them from prying eyes. Inside the barrier, their movements and the stairs they created remained unseen as they climbed.
Minutes later, they reached the top floor. The new recruits, initially nervous, now relaxed slightly, taking in the view from their vantage point. But their calm was shattered when they encountered a man standing with his hands folded.
“Someone’s already here!” one of the recruits panicked, drawing his sword.
The recruits quickly took battle formations.
“Calm down,” the leader commanded, steadying his team. He then addressed the man standing on the roof, approaching him confidently.
“It’s good to see you, sir. We’ve arrived,” the leader stated respectfully.
The man in blue robes, with a prominent nose and an air of nobility, looked unimpressed. “You’re late,” he stated sternly.
“We faced complications, but we’re prepared now,” the leader replied, maintaining composure despite the tension.
“I’ve been waiting in this dark, cold night for half an hour. The warden could wake at any moment. Do you intend to fail again?” the strange man retorted sharply.
“No, vice warden. We’ll handle this swiftly and leave without a trace,” the leader assured confidently, eager to proceed with the mission.
“Very well. Follow me to the dungeon where he’s confined. There are about 8-9 guards. Deal with them quietly. They’re inexperienced, so it shouldn’t be a challenge. And remember, no evidence,” the vice warden instructed coldly.
“Once the boy is eliminated, I look forward to seeing the warden’s face as he takes the blame for failing to protect the budding apostle, destined to become the legendary sapling. It will be a moment to savor,” the vice warden added with a sinister smile.
“Give me a moment,” the leader said to his squad, then spread his arms. In an instant, his body transformed into a dark mist that enveloped his team.
“Relax and submit to the shadows,” the leader’s voice echoed from within the mist. One by one, the warriors disappeared into the darkness.
The leader, now a small mist, slipped under the vice warden’s shadow unnoticed.
“Stay silent,” the vice warden cautioned, leading the way toward the dungeon where the apostle was held.
As the vice warden led the way, the recruits hidden within the mist found themselves in a shadowy dimension alongside their comrades.
“The ability to hide in shadows like this is amazing,” one recruit whispered in awe.
“It’s a shadow ability? That’s so cool!” another recruit exclaimed softly.
“Well, it’s more than just a shadow ability,” a knowledgeable recruit responded. “It's a psychic-transmutant ability, allowing the user to transform into a shadow and affect others. It’s a rare skill, perfect for missions like this.”
“Damn, newbie, you’re quite knowledgeable for someone so young,” remarked a veteran mage nearby.
“I read a lot of books,” the knowledgeable recruit said with a shrug.
“You can read? That’s so cool. I always wanted to go to school too,” another fresher said, sounding impressed.
“SchooI, yeah I remember! I had murdered a teacher once upon a time. He was a child molester,” one recruit interjected darkly.
“I wanted to be a gardener, but I have a lot of debt and here I am becoming an assassin,” another recruit sighed.
“Hey, being an assassin is cool! I’ll make lots of money and open a café,” another added enthusiastically.
“I wanted to be a knight!” declared one of the fresh recruits.
“Knights are lame! Stealthily taking down enemies is where it’s at,” someone else countered.
“That’s dishonorable! There’s no pride in that!” the aspiring knight protested.
“Screw honor. It’s all about survival and efficiency,” the other shot back.
Suddenly, one of the veteran warriors spoke up, breaking the chatter among the recruits.
“Guys, this is supposed to be a stealth mission! Stop talking and focus,” he commanded.
“Yes, sir!” responded the fresh recruits quickly, their voices subdued.
The mist continued to glide along the vice warden’s shadow, following him quietly to the dungeon where the apostle was being held captive. As they moved deeper into the citadel, they passed numerous guards stationed on the upper levels. Each guard saluted the vice warden and stepped aside, though they found his presence at this hour unusual. Security had been tightened since the arrival of the apostle, adding an air of tension to the normally quiet halls.
Finally, the vice warden reached the lower floor. The heavy gates creaked open, and he entered the dimly lit cellar area. New guards stationed there greeted him ceremoniously.
“Vice warden? Why are you here so late?” one of the guards asked, sounding surprised.
The vice warden smiled reassuringly. “Yes, I’m here to check on our new recruit. Just making sure every one of you is settling in well. Any issues?”
The guards looked slightly puzzled but quickly responded, eager to please.
“No issues, sir! We’re actually glad to see you. This place isn’t as bad as my last posting in the prison,” one guard replied.
“Indeed, the prisoners here are well-behaved. Except for one who keeps muttering and transforming into a wooden figure,” another guard added. “He’s stopped eating and just lies there motionless.”
The vice warden nodded thoughtfully. “I see. The transformation should be complete soon. Take me to him, let me give him some final words.”
The guards led the vice warden down the narrow corridors to the cell where the apostle was confined, the recruits hidden within the mist shadow following closely behind, their hearts pounding with anticipation of the mission ahead.
As they stopped before the apostle's cell. There was Benjamin, mumbling something while staring at the ceiling. Half of his face and one of his arms had transformed into wood and sprouting leaves as well.
As the vice warden observed the apostle lying motionless on his bed, muttering unintelligibly and staring at the ceiling, he muttered under his breath, "So there he is."
At that moment, the mist that had concealed the hidden warriors swiftly detached from the vice warden's shadow and dispersed into the surrounding darkness. The vice warden turned to the guards and spoke decisively, "He seems to have truly lost his sanity. There's no point in speaking with him in this state. I'll be returning to my quarters."
The guards exchanged uncertain glances but acquiesced. "But you wanted to talk to him, sir..."
"It's alright," the vice warden assured them, already moving towards the exit. "I trust you to maintain order here."
With that, the vice warden swiftly departed from the cellar, leaving the guards puzzled and somewhat relieved by his departure.
"That was strange," one guard remarked.
"Yeah, he seemed nice though. I hope he gets some rest," the other guard replied.
In the next instant, a blade appeared, piercing through the neck of the guard. Fresh blood sprouted from the wound. Before the other guard could react, another black-suited warrior muffled his mouth and slit his throat. The two guards quickly perished without even understanding what happened.
“See that! That's clean work!” shouted one of the fresh recruit warriors.
“Piercing is a much better way to kill, in my opinion,” another recruit added, wiping his blade.
The two new recruits were young but stone-cold murderers, recruited by the Viper Fangs. They didn’t even feel a tiny guilt of killing the two guards.
The other two recruits looked at their fellow freshers in astonishment.
“You guys have no honor. A real death should be imparted via a duel,” said the knight-aspiring recruit, “While betting your own life and winning, now that's how one actually counts as a real kill.”
“You guys really enjoy killing humans, don’t you,” said the knowledgeable recruit.
“Well, one should enjoy when you are at work. Dad always told me that,” one of the recruits responded with a grin.
“Seeing the light go away is fun! I’m glad I joined the Viper Fangs,” responded another recruit, almost gleefully.
“Everyone of you here has lost their marbles.” responded the knowledgeable recruit.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s nothing.”
Meanwhile, the other veteran warriors rounded up the rest of the guards and hunted them one by one. They ruthlessly killed the new guards leaping from the shadows and dragging them into the dark corners. Without much of a squeal, the guards were taken care of.
The high-class nobles watching this were not one bit surprised by this occurrence. Instead, they were just laying on their couch and enjoying this.
“Who are they going to exterminate this time, I wonder,” muttered one of the prisoners, watching the whole scene.
“I bet it’s one of those Vamian dogs. Karma’s getting back to him after all!” the other cellmate responded.
The leader of the Viper Fangs led his gang toward their target’s cell. The entire squad assembled in front of the apostle’s cell. As they approached, Benjamin Almond, the apostle, finally looked at his visiting guests, his eyes widening with recognition.
“I know you jokers. You’re the ones who attacked us before,” he snarled. Anger flared in his eyes as he leaped onto the fence, grabbing the bars. “Are you here to finish the job? And what did you do to my parents?”
The warriors looked at him with surprise. “This is the first time a prey is acting like he’s some hot shit instead of begging for his life. This kid needs a good lesson before dying,” one of the members remarked.
The recruits snickered, readying their blades, eager for the confrontation.
The leader of the Viper Fangs stepped forward, "Listen, kid, I know you're scared. I even have a son almost your age. So I'll give you a quick and painless death to end your suffering at once. After that, I'll send your parents next so your family can reunite."
"Screw this! I ain't scared of you guys! If I die, I'll be sure to take some of you with me! It's still better than becoming some fucking tree and croaking," Benjamin shouted, bracing himself for the confrontation.
The leader took out the keys, a smirk on his face. "Oh, looks like someone's eager to die. Don't worry, kid, I'll personally send you up—after fixing that lousy mouth of yours." He inserted the key into the lock.
Suddenly, a hand pierced through the leader’s chest like a stake. Fresh blood gushed out from the wound, splattering everywhere, even staining Benjamin’s face.
The leader’s eyes widened in shock. “Who is it—”
As the leader turned around, he saw one of his own black-suited men standing behind him—the knowledgeable fresher recruit, staring straight into his eyes.
The leader tried to conjure a spell, but the traitor quickly cleaved the leader's body in half using his morphed, muscular arm. The leader fell to the ground, his body split in two.
“What a group of idiots! A so-called elite mage can’t even recognize another elite mage in his own team. Pathetic!” muttered the traitorous recruit.
The rest of the Viper Fangs stared in disbelief at the traitor’s transformed arm.
“Time to take out the trash,” said the traitor, turning to face the remaining members.
The veterans of Viper Fangs quickly took action, scattering around to surround the traitor.
“Earth Spears!”
“Fire Lances!”
“Star Shurikens!”
“Dimension Blades!”
They launched a barrage of quick spell attacks. A loud blast erupted where the traitor had been standing.
“Well, the mission is a bust! We should quickly retreat,” commanded one of the veteran mages.
In the next instant, the traitor appeared almost instantly behind the mage, crushing the man’s head like a grape and killing him instantly.
“No one’s leaving alive from here,” declared the recruit.
The Viper Fangs clashed with the traitor, but he ruthlessly slaughtered everyone with his overgrown muscular abilities. It was a one-sided massacre; the Viper Fangs were pounded into a pulp of mashed flesh, staining the entire corridor. The veterans, the fresh recruits—everyone was ground into pieces.
The high-class prisoners, once cocky and detached, began to feel fear as they watched the brutal massacre unfold.
The traitor, after making sure everyone was dead, returned to the apostle’s cell, blood dripping from his hands and staining his once-black suit dark red.
“Fear not, little Apostle! I am here to rescue you,” he declared.
Benjamin stayed wary in the back of his cell, unwilling to trust a man who had just turned his comrades into a bloody mess.
“There’s no way I’m going to trust a guy who just stomped his own comrades into pulp,” Benjamin retorted.
“I know it might seem harsh, but they were just assassins. You shouldn’t mourn them,” the traitor replied casually. “I had to use them to get to you.”
Still uncertain, Benjamin pressed on, “Who are you? And why are you trying to rescue me?”
The traitor paused, then tore off his suit and removed his mask, revealing a deflated young teen’s body frame. In the next instant, he took a deep breath, and his body started morphing and inflating. Muscles and bones shifted visibly under his skin, transforming him into a tall, pale-skinned man with a chiseled physique. He casually reached into his pocket and put on a pair of glasses.
“Hello, Apostle. I am Damien of the Havoc Guild, and I am here to be your rightful savior,” he announced with a sly smile.