Baines awoke in his Dawnless office, a clarity washing over him that he hadn’t felt since joining the Darkan clan.
The weight of war, vengeance, and sches had lifted, well only for a mont. He rose, his body lighter, his mind sharper.
After a quick shower, he joined Ralph for breakfast, brewing a blend of rare herbs into a fragrant tea that ward the mood.
The simple act of eating together, sharing quiet monts with his brother, grounded him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. This was the life he wanted, and he hoped to bring it back.
As they finished, Ralph’s voice cut through the calm. "Let’s go out."
"Uh, where?" Baines asked, his brow furrowing.
"Don’t you know this organization’s source of inco? Underground fights." Ralph grinned.
Baines’s interest piqued. "Hmm..." He didn’t care about the underground fights but if his brother was saying it.
Before he could respond, a knock echoed through the room. The three executives entered, their postures rigid with respect.
"We’re ready," the first executive announced.
"Great," Ralph said, clapping his hands and motioning for Baines to follow. Without further discussion, Baines joined them, curiosity overriding his usual uninterested face.
Outside, a massive carriage awaited, flanked by twenty 5th-star soldiers and two mbers of the sword unit.
The group climbed aboard, the carriage rolling smoothly through Dawnless’s bustling streets. As they moved, Ralph turned to Baines, his tone shifting to one of purpose. "Using this ti, I wanted to talk about your sword."
"My sword?" Baines glanced at him.
"The red one." Ralph’s voice grew serious, and Baines’s gaze dropped to the engraving on his right hand, the mark of his demonblade.
"Yes, that demonblade," Ralph continued. "It has a true purpose."
Baines leaned forward, his interest sharpening. He had always known its bloodthirsty edge pulsing with an unnatural hunger. But he had never fully explored its potential, and the truth was, he didn’t bother to.
"That demonblade summon a demon," Ralph explained, his voice low.
Just as gods wield divine power, demons wield demonic power. Their contracts often demand souls or lives, and what his brother telling him now was, his sword could summon those demons.
"Thankfully it doesn’t seem like a supre demon, but nevertheless it is a high ranking one, maybe just beneath them."
Baines’s mind raced. "And you’re saying it drinks blood to open that gate?"
"Exactly," Ralph confird.
Baines fell silent, his thoughts spiraling. ’Drinking blood to summon a gate.’ The implications were staggering.
"Let also guess, the na of the demon is Roesha."
"Yes."
’So this sword is like a prison for it?’ He mused and asked, "Who is Roesha?"
"A very strong demon from a race that drink and control blood. Apparently they can’t survive underneath the sun."
Baines nodded, understanding why the old blood clan regarded this sword as their relic.
’They even created so decent techniques with it.’
He reached for his second blade, the bladeless sword, "What of this one?"
Ralph’s eyes glead. "Oh! That can summon any blade you envision. But that’s not all, it still requires so conditions to unleash its full power."
Baines’s grip tightened on the hilt, shock flickering across his face. The sword was already formidable, shaping blades from his will alone, yet it remained incomplete.
Finally, he drew the black bow. Till now, he still couldn’t pull its string. "And this?"
"Interesting," Ralph’s smile widened as he gazed at it. He was aware they were the family’s collections but he was still amazed.
"Have you ever heard of a forgotten god?"
Baines reeled. He knew about them then a lot, after all he currently had one.
"Like the others, it needs a special condition to be wielded, maybe permission from the god or sothing."
Baines thought for a mont and nodded, stowing the bow.
"We’ve arrived," the coachman called, snapping Baines from his thoughts.
The carriage stopped in a ragged district, its streets lined with crumbling buildings and desperate faces. The air was heavy with the scent of dust and despair, a stark contrast to the luxurious carriage. Eyes turned, drawn by the anomaly, but none dared approach.
The three executives were known here, they were the bosses around and their presence was like a silent warning.
A bulky shopkeeper, his narrow eyes glinting with deference despite his 4th-star aura, bowed deeply. "Welco."
The executives nodded, and the shopkeeper led them through his store to a hidden double-bar door beneath a trapdoor.
A dark staircase descended, lights flickering on automatically as Baines took the lead. As they reached the ground floor, the corridor widened, revealing a line of staff in crisp black suits, bowing at precise 90-degree angles.
"Welco, bosses," they intoned.
"The leader is here," the first executive announced.
The staff froze, their heads remaining bowed. Whispers of their new leader had reached them, his continuous pumping of money in the businesses, and his deeds at the Tyrell family. Unfortunately, they didn’t know he was also the land’s hero.
To them, he was a demon and no one dared et the gaze of a demon lest they die.
Also unfortunately, Baines wasn’t aware of any of this.
"Take ," Baines said, his voice calm, but the staff scattered like startled birds, their urgency palpable.
To them, today was their exam, and if they failed? They were no second chances.
A row of elegantly dressed female staff lined the path to a special VIP room, its opulence a stark contrast to the gritty streets above. Plush furnishings, gilded accents, and a massive throne faced a glass window overlooking the underground arena. The roar of the crowd was muted here, but the energy was electric, and the cheers nearly deafening.
WAAAAAAAA...
The announcer, a wiry man with a booming voice, took the ring. A staff mber ca and whispered to him, and his eyes widened.
"I just heard incredible news!" he shouted. "OUR VERY OWN DAWNLESS LEADER HAS SHOWN US HIS PRESENCE!"
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
The crowd erupted, their cheers shaking the arena. Eyes from the lower VIP sections turned to the upper booth, curiosity burning.
Dawnless’s influence had surged recently, with new casinos, betting dens, and fight rings sprouting across the region. This wasn’t even their main arena, yet the leader’s presence electrified the atmosphere.
"YES, SO WE’RE BRINGING OUT OUR BEST!" the announcer bellowed. "THE CASH PRIZE FOR TODAY IS 10,000 GOLD!"
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
’Yes, this is it,’ The announcer trembled with excitent. With their forreader gone, he could host more crowd, and continue what he loved doing best.
Two fighters entered the ring, both 3rd-star warriors, nothing particularly commanding about their presence, but one caught Baines’s eye.
It wasn’t his techniques or anything like that, it was the tattoo around his body.
The sight sparked a realization.
’The barbarians,’ Baines thought, his mind racing. With his blood energy and an adult dragon’s corpse, he could now perform the engraving ritual. The thought ignited a fire within him, his focus sharpening as he watched the fight unfold.
...
In a lower VIP cubicle, a group of won sat, their leader’s gaze fixed on the upper booth.
Her presence was commanding, her attire a blend of elegance and lethality. Since the announcer’s proclamation, her eyes hadn’t left Baines’s section. After a mont of contemplation, she rose, her voice cutting through the din.
"Let’s go," she said to her subordinates, her tone brooking no argunt.
Reviews
All reviews (0)