City of Sin

Book 6, 113

Cleaning Up The Mess

The warrior maintained the necessary etiquette and respect, but continued to block Richard. This was the arrogance of the elves, a race that looked down upon all the rest.

“Tell Melia to come see me,” Richard said slowly.

“Elder Melia is currently attending the council meeting, she will not be able to come see you. I will inform her when it has en—”

Richard waved him off, “So these so-called elders of yours don’t want me to enter the tribe, huh.”

The guard was stunned at the treatment for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure, “Mister Richard, wait for the elders to— Khhhrhg!”

Richard had already grabbed him by the neck and lifted him into the air, nearly crushing him to death right there. Looking at the warriors around him pulling out their swords and drawing their bows, he raised his voice, “Grand Elder Tzu put me in charge of your tribe before she passed on; anyone not prepared to obey her will is a traitor. Betray the tribe and your soul will not be able to reach the tree of life. Betray the tribe, and you. Will. Die!”

He continued to crush the guard’s neck as he spoke, but his words rendered both the civilians and the soldiers silent. Execution was nothing, but barring one from returning to the tree of life was the most severe of punishments. Elven tradition held that their souls would return to the tree of life upon death, awaiting future reincarnation elsewhere. If they were blocked from this, then they would truly be dead.

Richard dropped the warrior to the ground, turning towards the rest. The guard fell to the ground and rolled around violently, but his hands were still clenching at his throat. He tried to breathe, but no air would go in. Although Richard had let go, there was still energy wrapped around him that would suffocate him to death.

The Evernight warriors nearby were shocked, but they hesitated to do anything about it. The Grand Elder’s special relationship with Richard hadn’t particularly been hidden, even if no one knew how exactly the two were related. However, rage flashed in the eyes of one particular hunter as he loosed an arrow aimed straight at Richard’s heart.

“Careful!” “What are you doing!” Several warriors yelled, but it was already too late. The long arrow struck an invisible barrier along the way, its speed dropping sharply until it fell harmlessly to the ground. A touch of red light started burning the shaft, and in only an instant the arrow was nothing but ash.

Richard silently turned towards the hunter, a pale grey orb of light jumping from a finger in his direction. The orb was almost invisible to the naked eye, but the man suddenly felt a great threat and started running away. However, the spell was several times faster than him; he was caught up to in a mere moment, and the light entered his body. The hunter’s face distorted as a red mist floated out of his body, coagulating right before his eyes. His own body quickly withering away, he fell to the ground as nothing but a dry corpse.

The other elves were shocked silent, some recognising the spell Richard had used. Desiccation was a horrible spell of death, capable of removing all the liquid from the target’s body to kill them. Although it was only situational and merely grade 7, it was more infamous than some grade 9 spells. The silvermoon elves originally had great affinity for magic; the Evernight Tribe was only dominated by druids now because of the environment of the Forest Plane.

Just as the elves were about to grow restless once more, a faint yellow light rippled out from Richard’s body, covering everything within twenty metres. Every elf within the area felt themselves go numb, most freezing in place and some even falling to the ground. Group paralysis was only a grade 6 spell, but in Richard’s hands even the druids who were skilled at resisting magic were nailed in place.

Richard walked over to the tree of life, taking the ladder up to the canopy. Now, the elves were looking at him not with arrogance but fear. They at least knew what it meant for him to be able to paralyse them all for a few minutes.

As he climbed, Richard sent out another invisible wave of energy. This wave allowed him to sense the entire village, but what he noticed caused his heart to beat quickly. The number of warriors here was unusually small, less than half their full number. With doubts in his mind, he quickly went straight to the top where the so-called council of elders was meeting.

......

There were seven elves in the treehouse, with Melia and Kael amongst them. There had been no council when Tzu was in charge, the elders were only responsible for carrying out her orders, but now the atmosphere was extremely tense as a middle-aged elf stood up, “The Skylance is our sacred artefact, we cannot hand it over to a half-blood! We are also noble elves, we cannot surrender control to him either.”

Melia stood up angrily, “This was the Grand Elder’s will! Are you going to ignore her?”

“What will? Why didn’t I see one?” the elf asked softly.

“Wh... I handed it to you! You... you actually dare to hide her will?”

The middle-aged elf shook his head, “I did not come across any will. As the closest relative of the Grand Elder, I will hold on to the Skylance for a while until we select a new one. Afterwards, it will be handed over. Melia, the artefact will no longer be in your hands.”

“Greyfeather, you...” Melia was shocked and angry, not knowing what to say. Greyfeather was Tzu’s nephew, and she had never expected him to jump out and compete for the Skylance. He had even destroyed the will she had handed over to him!

Greyfeather ignore Melia, saying loudly, “All in favour of keeping the Skylance?”

Six arms were raised high.

“Next, we should consider talking to the Duskword Tribe to end the war.”

This time, five arms were lifted up, and Melia’s gaze was still desperate.

It was at this point that the door to the treehouse was kicked open, Richard’s voice ringing out, “Which motherfucker wants to speak with the Duskwords?”

All heads turned towards Richard as he entered the room, Greyfeather standing up in shock, “Richard! How are you here?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? If I hadn’t come back any sooner, would this stupid tribe have a new grand elder?”

Greyfeather calmed down, but his expression darkened, “This is a decision of our Evernight Tribe, you are just an outsider. You don’t have the qualifications to enter this hall. Leave immediately, or I will call the guards.”

Richard smiled and threw a piece of paper in Greyfeather’s face, “Leave? That’s Tzu’s will, you can read through it later. I’m in charge here.”

Greyfeather glanced through the letter quickly, his brow wrinkling at Tzu’s handwriting, but he quickly tore the letter apart, “Where? I don’t see it.”

“You don’t see anything,” Richard responded. Before Greyfeather could even make sense of what that meant, a searing pain burnt his eyes; Richard flashed right in front of him and kneed him in the stomach, sending him flying into the wall. It wasn’t long before the elf was screaming in pure agony.

It was at this point that hurried footsteps sounded outside the treehouse, a bloodied hunter running in and screaming, “The Duskword Tribe ambushed us! Three... Three hunting teams were all killed!”

Richard turned back and stared at the hunter, his voice turning cold, “Three teams?”