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The echoes of the Headless Tower still lingered in the underworld, but Seraphis and her crew were already setting their sights on a new target.

This ti, the hunt was personal.

The Obsidian Spire—a tower darker than the last, steeped in corruption, twisted experints, and the suffering of innocents. The re ntion of its na sent shudders through even the most hardened criminals.

It wasn’t just another council of elites.

It was a place where human lives were currency, where people vanished in the night and reappeared as nothing more than hollowed husks or monstrous abominations.

It had to be burned to the ground.

And Seraphis was going to make sure no one survived.

The List of Nas

The parchnt was old, its edges curled and stained with ti. But the nas scrawled across it? Those were fresh, obtained through a network of spies and whispers.

Seraphis sat at the round table in the guild’s war room, her eyes scanning the list of the damned.

Each na was a stain upon the world, each person a key figure in the Obsidian Spire’s grotesque experints.

Dr. Veskar Olynd – The mastermind, a scientist with no morals, conducting twisted alchemy and blood rituals.

Lord Rendar Valtis – A noble funding the Spire’s experints, exchanging prisoners for power.

Sister Mordane – A forr priestess, turned into a warped torturer, using holy magic for unholy ans.

General Bastian Krayne – A corrupt military commander, feeding war orphans into the Spire’s experints.

The Glass Alchemist – A faceless entity, known for reshaping flesh and bone into living weapons.

Seraphis’s fingers tightened around the parchnt.

"Every single one of them dies."

Planning the Attack

Elowen leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "This isn’t going to be like the Ivory Tower. These people don’t operate in the open—they hide their filth in the dark."

Sylvaine smirked, twirling a throwing knife between her fingers. "Then we’ll just drag them into the light before we cut their throats."

Theia, quiet as ever, studied the map laid out before them. The Obsidian Spire was heavily fortified—tall blackened stone, layered defenses, hidden escape routes. If they went in unprepared, they’d be walking into a slaughter.

Seraphis exhaled slowly.

"We do this in stages. We don’t just burn the Spire down—we rip it apart piece by piece."

She placed a dagger on the map, right at the heart of the Spire.

"First, we sever their hands."

Phase One: Eliminating the Financiers

The first to die would be Lord Rendar Valtis.

A snake hiding behind wealth, using his power to fund the Spire’s horrors. Without his money, the Spire’s operations would cripple overnight.

Seraphis grinned.

They were going to rob him blind before they slit his throat.

Phase Two: Removing Their Enforcers

General Bastian Krayne was next. A man who delivered children to monsters, trading innocence for power.

He commanded a private army, but even the strongest soldiers were nothing if their leader’s head was on a pike.

Elowen tapped the map. "He likes to visit the fighting pits. We can corner him there."

Seraphis nodded. "Then we bleed him in the dirt he thrives in."

Phase Three: Destroying Their Alchemists

The Glass Alchemist and Dr. Veskar Olynd were the ones creating monsters.

Without them, the Spire’s experints would collapse.

Sylvaine’s eyes glead. "If we kill them first, they might replace them. But if we kill them last..."

Seraphis smirked. "Then their entire research burns with them."

Phase Four: The Final Purge

That left Sister Mordane.

She had once been a healer, a holy woman. Now she was a butcher draped in false divinity, carving sigils of pain into her victims.

Seraphis would carve her na into history.

Then, finally, they would take down the Obsidian Spire itself—tearing its foundations apart until it was nothing but rubble and screams.

Seraphis placed a final dagger on the map.

"We start tomorrow."

A Night of Preparation

Each of them prepared in their own way.

Seraphis sharpened her blades, ensuring that each strike would be fatal.

Elowen gathered poisons, ones that would ensure their victims suffered before they died.

Theia ditated, her mind honing itself for the battles to co.

Sylvaine practiced her illusions, ensuring their enemies would never see the truth until it was too late.

The night was silent.

But the storm was coming.

The Hunt Begins

At dawn, they moved.

The Obsidian Spire had no idea that death was already at their doorstep.

4o

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