บท 35: Chapter 35: Beneath the Firelight
Chapter 35: Beneath the Firelight
The tiefling captain's yellow eyes glowed with a cold, predatory light. He crouched down before me, his gaze unwavering, like a predator sizing up its prey. His voice, gravelly yet commanding, pierced the tense silence.
"You're in no shape to run," he said flatly, his words deliberate, his tone carrying the weight of someone who expected answers. "Start talking. What was that thing back there?"
I groaned, clutching my side where the wound from my shadow's claws still throbbed. The bandages I hastily wrapped around it held, but the pain, agonizing and persistent, reminded me how close I had come to losing everything. I let my head droop, as if weighed down by exhaustion and regret. "It attacked me when I went to find my family," I muttered, my voice low and strained. "I returned to my village, but it was gone—nothing left but ash and that... thing."
The captain's gaze didn't falter, his suspicion growing like an aura around him. "Convenient timing, isn't it? A creature like that doesn't show up without reason."
I snapped, frustration flaring to life. "I don't know why it came after me!" I bit off the words, letting anger seep into my voice, a thin veil over my true intentions. "Do you think I wanted this? If I hadn't killed it, I'd be dead."
A silence settled over us, heavy with suspicion, and yet I couldn't shake the thrill of the game. The captain was sharp, no doubt about that. But I was sharper. He'd soon see I wasn't a threat to him, at least not in the ways he expected.
One of the men, a younger human, spoke up from behind the captain. "Captain, he doesn't look like he's lying. And we've seen the aftermath of those villages. Could be one of the survivors."
"Dren, don't speak for me," the captain snarled, silencing the younger man with a cold, cutting gaze.
Dren raised his hands in mock surrender but couldn't hide the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Just saying, Cap."
The captain's piercing glare returned to me. "What's your name?"
"Cassian," I replied smoothly. The name felt foreign on my tongue, but it had its purpose, and I was nothing if not a master of appearances.
"Cassian," the captain repeated, studying me with those unnervingly bright eyes. "Will you follow along for a while? You seem capable of holding your own, and it looks like you've got nothing left. Might as well tag along."
Inside, a twisted sense of satisfaction curled. These fools. They believed me. I contained a chuckle, allowing a small, grateful grin to form on my lips. "Thank you. I'll do my best to pull my weight."
"Guess that makes ya part of the family now," Dren added, his tone lighter than the situation warranted, as he knelt by the fire, poking at it with a stick.
Before I could respond, chaos erupted. Dren, in his usual clumsy fashion, managed to set the dry grass on fire with a stick he'd foolishly used to stoke the flames. The fire spread quickly, prompting shouts of panic and curses from the group. I watched with detached amusement as they scrambled to extinguish the flames. It was pathetic, almost... endearing.
"Fire!" Dren shouted, darting away to alert everyone.
I barely lifted a finger to help, content to let them make fools of themselves. After a few minutes of shouting and scrambling, Dren ran toward the horses and called out to me, "Hop on, will ya!"
I winced as I stood, the pain in my side sharp, but I ignored it, forcing myself to run. Dren grabbed my arm and helped me onto the horse, his grip strong despite his earlier misstep. We galloped away, leaving the chaos behind.
The journey took about a day, during which I had time to reflect on my situation. My position here, with this new group, was an opportunity. They might have no idea who or what I truly was, but that wouldn't last. I would bide my time, gather information, and when the time was right, I would turn this situation to my advantage.
When we finally arrived at the gates of the city, it was a far cry from the grandeur of Aeladria. The walls were weathered, made of stone that had seen better days. Vines crawled up their sides, and the air was thick with the smells of a city far less polished than what I was used to. The distant noise of voices, clattering hooves, and the occasional bark of a street vendor filled the air, a far cry from the cold, empty silence of the villages I'd burned to the ground.
I could feel my excitement building, the familiar pulse of power lurking just beneath the surface. This city would fall too, eventually. They all would. But for now, I had a role to play.
[Adjustment Period: 13 Days 19:43:21…]
บท 36: Chapter 36: Embers of Betrayal
Chapter 36: Embers of Betrayal
Following the group, I found myself standing before a strange-looking building. Its walls twisted in odd, almost artistic ways, as if molded by a mind both brilliant and deranged. The structure stood in stark contrast to the rest of the city's worn-down aesthetic. The air around it felt different, thicker, humming with a presence unseen. Without hesitation, the tiefling captain strode forward, pushing open the heavy wooden doors with a forceful shove.
The interior was larger than I had expected, a cavernous hall shrouded in dim light, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and melted wax. Shadows clung to the corners, stretching unnaturally. At the far end, an old man sat draped in a tattered brown cloak, unmoving.
His face, withered and gaunt, bore the marks of age and a life steeped in knowledge. Eyes as dark as ink met ours, unreadable yet piercing. There was an unsettling stillness about him, as if he had become one with the chamber itself.
The captain walked up with his usual confidence. "We've dealt with the mission."
The old man regarded him for a long moment before rasping out his response. "Place your hand on the token."
The captain complied, pressing his palm onto what I assumed was some enchanted relic, though my vantage point made it difficult to see. A flicker of recognition passed through the old man's gaze, his pupils dilating slightly, as though peering into something unseen.
"Do you swear upon your oath that you have completed the mission?" His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried weight, filling the empty space between us like a tangible force.
"Yes."
A brief silence followed before the old man reached under the desk and produced a pouch. With a deliberate motion, he slammed it onto the table. A faint clinking of metal echoed through the hall, betraying its contents.
No further words were exchanged. The captain retrieved the pouch, and we departed. Outside, he loosened the drawstrings and retrieved a handful of metallic tokens. Without hesitation, he extended his hand to me.
"Take it. Your share."
For a moment, I merely stared at the offered payment. Price, huh? So they had been after me, but they were under the impression that the real threat had been dealt with. How amusing. I had them completely fooled. A smirk threatened to creep onto my lips, but I kept my expression carefully neutral. I accepted the tokens with a nod, tucking them away. They weren't what I truly sought, but playing along had its advantages.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, we found ourselves before a tavern. A wooden sign, gently swaying in the evening breeze, bore the name: The Drunken Giant.
The moment we stepped inside, we were engulfed by the chaotic warmth of merriment. Laughter boomed from all corners of the room, accompanied by the clatter of mugs slamming onto wooden tables. The scent of roasted meat and spilled ale mixed in the air, thick and heady. Every corner of the tavern was occupied, drunken elves sang off-key, burly orcs arm-wrestled while onlookers cheered, and at the bar, a dwarf attempted to outdrink a minotaur twice his size.
We settled at a table near the center, where a serving girl swiftly placed several tankards before us. The captain raised his drink. "To another job well done."
Dren, already looking a little flushed, grinned. "To not dying, again."
A chorus of agreement followed, and soon, the conversation shifted to war stories and past misadventures.
"Remember that time we were hired to rescue some noble's brat from goblins?" one of the mercenaries slurred, wiping foam from his beard. "Turns out the little shit didn't want to be saved, nearly gutted me when I tried to carry him out."
Dren burst out laughing. "Oh, that kid! We had to drag him kicking and screaming all the way back to his father. And then—gods, I'll never forget, the bastard tried to hire the goblins to kill us instead!"
The group erupted into laughter, banging fists on the table.
One of the older mercenaries, an orc with scars crisscrossing his arms, chuckled deeply. "Hah! That's nothing. You lot weren't there when we took a contract to hunt down 'a single rogue mage.'" He took a swig of ale. "Turned out the bastard had an entire cult backing him. We walked right into a trap."
"How'd you make it out?" I asked, more to fuel their indulgence than genuine curiosity.
The orc smirked. "Dren's dumb ass set the whole damn cave on fire. We barely made it out alive."
"Hey," Dren protested, "it worked, didn't it?"
Another round of laughter followed, but it was soon interrupted by the telltale sound of raised voices. A drunken dispute at a nearby table escalated as a burly human shoved a reptilian mercenary. The lizardman hissed, slamming his drink onto the table before lunging forward, tackling the human to the ground. The tavern exploded into chaos. Chairs scraped against the wooden floors, tankards shattered, and fists flew wildly.
I leaned back in my chair, watching the fight unfold with mild amusement. My companions, however, were far too drunk to remain mere spectators. With a roar, the orc from our group launched himself into the fray, toppling two men as he went. Dren, laughing like a madman, grabbed a chair and hurled it at an unsuspecting brawler.
I, on the other hand, remained seated, sipping at my drink. There was no need to waste energy on such meaningless displays. Let them have their fun.
By the end of the night, we had somehow managed to secure a room. Bodies were sprawled across the floor, snoring loudly. I sat up, my head barely aching from the minimal amount of alcohol I had consumed. It had been an amusing night, but it had also been dangerous in ways they couldn't understand.
These men… they were becoming too familiar. Too human.
A weakness.
Silently, I rose, stepping over their unconscious forms. I made my way down the creaking stairs, entering the dimly lit tavern hall. The bartender, a woman in her forties with tired eyes, was already cleaning up the wreckage from the previous night's brawl.
She glanced up as I approached, but before she could speak, my shadow servant materialized from the darkness.
A sharp, wet gurgle filled the air as its claws ripped through her throat. Her body slumped to the ground before she could even scream.
[Proficiency: 49.3%]
It was growing stronger.
I moved swiftly, grabbing bottles of dwarven ale from behind the counter. The liquid sloshed as I poured it across the floor, creating a glistening trail that led to the storage room. The scent of alcohol was pungent. Finally, I plucked a candle from the nearest table, its flame flickering ominously.
With a single motion, I let it drop.
Fire erupted, devouring the liquor-soaked wood in an instant. The flames spread, consuming tables, climbing the walls, licking at the beams above. The air filled with the acrid stench of burning alcohol and charred flesh as the first screams rang out.
Outside, I watched as the inferno swallowed The Drunken Giant, its glow illuminating the night.
[Betrayer of Allies! +25 points] [Arson! +10 points] [Pyromaniac! +50 points]
A laugh bubbled up from within me, dark and unrestrained.
[New Mission: Destroy the City of Mudborough] [Difficulty: F to E-Grade] [Details: Ensure its fall before the end of the Adjustment Period.] [Reward: 100 Points] [Progress: 0/1]
Let the mayhem begin.
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