The air in Velkath had shifted. It carried an undercurrent of tension that only those attuned to the city's darker side could sense. Leon stood atop a high balcony overlooking the bustling streets below, his eyes scanning the moving figures, searching for signs of the inevitable retaliation. He knew Draymore wouldn't sit idle for long. The question was—how would they strike?
Celica leaned against the stone railing beside him, tossing a small knife between her fingers. "Word is spreading. Draymore's got something planned for tonight," she said, her voice casual, but Leon could hear the edge of concern beneath it. "Probably an ambush."
Leon smirked, adjusting his coat. "Ambushes only work on people who don't expect them."
Aldric approached from behind, his footsteps silent. "We received confirmation. The Crimson Vultures have taken positions near the docks. Looks like they’re planning to intercept your meeting with the Merchant Guild representatives."
Leon sighed dramatically. "Predictable. It's almost insulting." He turned, flashing a grin. "Let’s make sure we give them a warm welcome."
Celica rolled her eyes. "You're enjoying this way too much."
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Velkath Docks – Midnight
The docks were quieter than usual, the usual drunken sailors and merchants conspicuously absent. Leon strolled casually along the waterfront, his coat billowing slightly in the breeze. Celica and Aldric shadowed him, their gazes constantly scanning the shadows for movement.
"Here they come," Celica murmured.
From the darkness between two warehouses, several figures emerged—Crimson Vultures. Scarface led the pack, his brutish form unmistakable even in the dim light. His expression was a mix of annoyance and amusement.
"Lord Eryndor," Scarface called out, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're making our job real easy, showing up like this."
Leon stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets. "I thought we had an understanding, Scarface. Or did Draymore finally make an offer you couldn’t refuse?"
Scarface cracked his knuckles. "Turns out, he did. Nothing personal, kid."
Leon sighed, feigning disappointment. "That's a shame. I really thought we could be friends." His fingers traced the runes carved into his belt—small, subtle, but deadly.
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Scarface signaled, and his men drew their weapons—blades gleaming under the moonlight. Celica tensed beside Leon, ready to move.
Leon, however, smiled. "Before we get into all that violence, there's something you should know."
Scarface hesitated. "What?"
Leon pulled a small glass vial from his coat and tossed it to the ground between them. It shattered, releasing a faint mist that spread quickly. Scarface and his men instinctively took a step back.
"Let's just say," Leon continued, his voice calm, "those crates behind you? They're not just full of spice shipments."
Scarface's eyes darted to the crates stacked around them, then back to Leon. "What did you do?"
Leon took a step forward, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Let's call it insurance. One wrong move, and this whole place goes up in flames. Do you really want to find out how much of Velkath will burn with it?"
Scarface's jaw tightened. "You wouldn't."
Leon smirked. "Wouldn't I?"
The mercenaries exchanged uneasy glances. Celica smirked, whispering, "You really love bluffing your way out of things, don't you?"
Leon grinned. "Who said I'm bluffing?"
Scarface cursed under his breath. "Draymore's gonna have my head if I walk away from this."
Leon leaned closer. "Then don't walk away empty-handed. Tell him you found nothing. Say the Merchant Guild never showed. Play it smart, Scarface."
The mercenary leader stared at Leon for a long moment, then spat on the ground. "Fine. But this ain't over."
Leon watched as the Crimson Vultures melted back into the shadows, tension easing from his shoulders. Celica let out a low whistle. "That was risky."
Leon chuckled. "Calculated."
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Eryndor Estate – Dawn
Leon sat in his study, running a hand through his hair as he reviewed reports from the Merchant Guild. The meeting had gone smoothly—without interruption, thanks to his little deception. But he knew this was just the beginning. Draymore would escalate.
Aldric entered, his expression grave. "There's more."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess—Draymore’s found a new toy?"
Aldric nodded. "An assassin. A professional, not a brute squad like the Vultures. Someone known as 'The Whisper'."
Celica frowned from across the room. "Never heard of him."
Aldric's lips pressed into a thin line. "You wouldn’t have. They say he leaves no traces, no witnesses."
Leon leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Now that... is interesting."
Celica groaned. "You can’t possibly be looking forward to this."
Leon grinned. "Why not? I love a good challenge."
Aldric sighed. "I'll increase security."
Leon waved him off. "No need. The Whisper won't come at me directly. If he's as good as they say, he'll try to get inside my head first. And if that's the game he wants to play..."
His eyes gleamed with excitement. "I’ll make sure he regrets it."
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House Draymore – The Plot Thickens
Kain Draymore stood in the grand hall of his estate, watching the masked figure before him. The Whisper's presence was unsettling—he moved with an eerie grace, his voice barely above a whisper.
Leon Eryndor was proving to be more trouble than Kain had anticipated. It was time to remove him from the board permanently.
"You know your task," Kain said, his tone cold. "Do not fail me."
The Whisper bowed slightly, his voice like silk. "Failure is not in my nature."
As he vanished into the shadows, Kain allowed himself a dark smile. "Enjoy your games while you can, Lord Eryndor. Soon, they'll come to an end."
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End of Chapter Eleven.