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Jerrick Darkwood, a man who also went by the moniker the Gatekeeper, had seen many faces in his line of work.
There were young faces and there old faces. There were faces that radiated experience only to reveal naivete when he tugged a little and there were those that were simply foolish, those that overestimated themselves and were cut down to reality at the edge of Jerrick’s glaive.
The Tower of Endless Horizons could be claimed by no kingdom. A single look at it was enough to tell even the most foolish of fools that this was not power that could be governed by their mortal laws or kings. But, it was bordered by three.
Three kingdoms, amongst which there were no shortage of desperate men and women, people backed into a corner, people who had nowhere to go. The fact that they managed to escape their kingdoms, travel as far as they did, meant that there was a certain degree of skill involved.
There was always a possibility that Jerrick could bite off more than he was capable of chewing, but those were the risks of his trade. On the good days, of which there were many, Jerrick made more in a day’s time than he had in a year of his service to his Noble Lord and his Kingdom. A year of servitude, where a single command from his lord could see him facing a tide of rampaging beasts or the trail of a powerful assassin.
To life on the edge was one thing, but to do so without freedom, chained to the whims of another in exchange for a pittance? No, never again. Though it was not the servitude that had finally broken Jerrick, that honor was reserved for the battle for the Zarihn Pass.
Rivers of blood had flown, good men and women sent to early graves while their Noble Lord lounged around in the comfort of the command tent. It was not him alone to blame, of course. The order had come from the King and even the Noble, who Jerrick loathed so much was only a pawn in the game of another.
The result of their battle had been so meaningless that any hatred Jerrick had for his Noble Lord had been lost.
The Zarihn Pass was shattered and for a moment, it looked like the Ironcrest Kingdom would actually invade their long hated neighboring kingdom.
Then, a treaty was signed.
The new pass was pushed back five leagues and the Valorhold Kingdom was forced to hand over a large amount of resources to buy back their peace.
Their war had been as meaningless as his service to his Noble Lord.
The final straw had broken the camel’s back and Jerrick Darkwood was done with a life of servitude.
The Shadow Guild was what allowed him to escape the tenure of his service before it was completed and Jerrick left the Ironcrest Kingdom.
Though he had run across many hunting grounds as a member of the Shadow Guild, there was no place where he could find juicier loot than the Tower of the Endless Horizons.
Only fools, whether they believed it or not, ventured near the tower. The ones that Jerrick actually had to be wary of, usually arrived with an entire entourage of guards, their procession as ostentatious as it was intimidating.
Jerrick and the Shadow Guild were not fools.
They had seen what happened when rogue organizations tried to monopolize the entrances to the Tower of Endless Horizons.
They disappeared.
Without fail.
Every single time.
But Jerrick wasn’t monopolizing the Tower of Endless Horizons.
There were dozens of entrances circling the Tower and the six shadows under his command were only overlooking two.
They had been camping for two weeks now and during that time, they had come across only three people.
The first had been a couple from the Valorhold Kingdom. Their silver armor and light-based cards were a dead giveaway.
They had been fast, sure. Tricky, even. But Jerrick was a warrior who had been given control over a contingent of assassins.
After the initial volley he simply retreated, letting his shadows chip away at their energy before he rejoined battle.
Soul Power was not endless and neither was natural stamina.
The urgency in their movements was what had ultimately led to their demise. Had they not been in so much of a rush, they could’ve scoped the area, seen what they were getting into.
They had the skill and experience to avoid their trap, but it was ultimately their own urgency to escape whatever chased after them that betrayed them.
The wealth and strength he had ripped away from those two spoke of a different fight on a different day with a different outcome. Had Jerrick fought one of the two in a deathmatch, there was a very real possibility that he would not have come out on top.
But he did.
And now, he was stronger for it.
The other two had been from his own kingdom, the Ironcrest Kingdom. Their reliance on heavy shields and focus on long-range attacks betrayed them. Unfortunately, they both meant little when his assassins struck from behind.
The old man had gone with final curse, as his attempt to throw away what remained of his life and see what lay in the Tower of Endless Horizons through his own eyes, failed.
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The other one, a feisty red-haired woman had been bold, but that did little to hide the rebellion in her eyes. She thought herself better than Jerrick, she thought she was capable of defying the natural order and challenging whatever gods or demons that were waiting above in the tower for them.
The rebellion had died in her eyes.
So, it was just another day for Jerrick, as he waited before one of the entrances of the tower. His shadows would let him know as soon as they spotted quarry and then, the hunt would begin once more.
Sometimes, there would be those that slipped through the gaps in the shadows' surveillance, or find a way to evade it. But it was of no concern, for one of his shadows was waiting at the other entrance and Jerrick himself waited before this one.
If a powerhouse was approaching, Jerrick’s men would simply inform him and he would flee far before they could take any offense.
It was not a foolproof strategy, but Jerrick was still alive and the Shadow Guild grew more and more powerful—- only because they knew their place in the world and did not overstep.
Sneaking past Jerrick himself though, that was a first.
Anyone powerful enough to do that should’ve just killed him outright.
But the three teenagers, two of them looking like they were barely adults, before him, was a surprise.
As cold and detached as Jerrick had become over the years, he was a man that had once stood for something.
The way he saw it, he was doing a service to the tower. Anyone that fell to his blade was not qualified to enter the Tower and they would most certainly die there anyway.
Might as well have the coin and experience flow into his own pockets.
So, Jerrick told the kid to surrender, even as desire burned in his heart— an artifact or card that could sneak past him without so much so as a slight footstep audible to his augmented sense of hearing had to be an uncommon at the least.
Maybe it would be a Mezzanine, though Jerrick had never seen anything beyond a Mezzanine common in his long years of both service and slaughter.
Perhaps, it could even be a Rare Artifact. Anyone powerful enough to own those shouldn’t be anyone Jerrick could kill, but if it was kids that had run away from some distant noble house… you never knew.
That’s why Jerrick was still in business.
So, Jerrick asked the kids to surrender.
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Jerrick’s eyes widened as the youngest out of the three, an eighteen year old with ordinary, almost non-descript features besides well-toned muscles that were hardly uncommon for anyone who had put a decent amount of points in the Physical stat, blurred forward with such tremendous speed and momentum that he needed a moment just to register it.
It was not his experience as an assassin that saved him, but the instincts of a soldier who had fought those far stronger than himself in the battle for the Zarihn Pass that saved him.
Jerrick placed his glaive between himself and the approaching kid and then activated his Uncommon card’s ability.
He could heat things. Had his card been an common one, his ability would’ve been something mundane like hurling a ball of flames at another. Whereas if it had been a mezzanine, the peak of it’s rarity, it would be more versatile than it was.
But for now, Jerrick could heat things he touched.
That included people, but running around and hugging people to death wasn’t exactly a viable combat style.
That didn’t stop the blade of his glaive from running red-hot as he unleashed his ability, the other half of his uncommon card granting him protection from things he was superheating.
Tom blurred to his left, unsurprisingly shifting away from his rudimentary strategy.
Jerrick felt a gust of wind as Tom tried to flit past him and his glaive moved to follow in a wide arc. Once again, the boy managed to dodge the blow, without even parrying as he retreated backwards.
Jerrick had dealt with proprioception builds before, people who augmented their reaction time and then focused on cards that let them move faster than others— but even then, he had to admit that the boy before him was something special.
That wouldn’t do much for him as Jerrick cut away the heat he was supplying and fell back on his Soul Card, a near max level Uncommon card that let him call upon and manipulate metal.
A cruel smile played upon his lips as the blade of his glaive rocketed forth with unrestrained momentum. He had offered mercy and had met with a boy that could actually threaten him. No more risks, he couldn’t afford more.
And then, the boy’s strength would become his.
Jerrick’s gaze snapped to the other two, the boy no longer a consideration in his mind. His face was sealed the moment he retreated backwards.
Only one remained. The girl with silver hair streaked with strands of amethyst. Then it was confirmed, the second boy was the one with cloaking abilities.
“Shadows, to me!” Jerrick roared, realizing that the situation was getting out of hand.
Then he blinked, as the connection to the blade he had sent rocketing forth snapped.
Jerrick’s heart began to pound in his chest as he retreated, his gaze angling to the side where a large mirror had appeared before the boy, his red-hot blade gone where it should’ve punched straight through him.
‘What the fuck is that?’ Jerrick thought, even as he began to backpedal.
No answer came as two shadowy blurs shifted from the forest behind them, their cards built for speed as much as they were for stealth.
One of them tried to ground to a halt as a silhouette popped into existence before him, a sword passing through the assassin’s right leg without so much as leaving a mark.
That didn’t stop him from crashing onto the ground like a puppet with it’s strings cut. Before Jerrick could even call out for the man or try to aid him, a sword was ruthlessly plunged in his nape.
Jerrick cursed out loud even as he willed the blade of his glaive to reform.
His palm was held open and he hurriedly formed star-shaped, five pointed throwing knives in his hand.
Even as Jerrick repeated, he watched as a barrage of crystal shards was unleashed in the direction of his second and final remaining shadow. The others would take too long to reach him.
He dodged with deft agility, but the woman, who should’ve been no more than a girl with a single uncommon at most that she didn’t understand how to use and perhaps a decent artifact or two, was relentlessly unleashing crystals in his direction.
Jerrick snarled, as his Uncommon heat card activated, heating both the glaive’s metal and the four throwing blades he had forged.
A red-hot shuriken was thrown in Aleph’s direction, forcing her to stop attacking his ally.
The squelching sound he had heard told him that he was too late, but he had to try.
What was that blade that had passed through his assassin without harming him and yet, crippled him? What was that mirror that had swallowed his attack? The cloaking that completely evaded his senses?
What was happening?
Unfortunately, Jerrick would never get the answer to that question as he looked down at his own abdomen in disbelief, as a red-hot glaive carved through his chest and embedded itself within it, devastating him from the inside.
His own bloody glaive.