The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 171

Chapter 171: Shadow

Following the passionate kiss; time had come to depart. Staxius stood outside the castle, the moon barely lit the town, the citizens were at home. The streets deserted, a few lamps here and there powered by mana transferred using a conduit from the University.

“Over here majesty,” Skokdrag stood with six others; expert builders from their outfits. The king nodded; the team waited.

“Guess its time to leave,” he smiled, Xula tightly embraced her lover.

“Here,” a whisper, her hands reached inside the jacket, “-see you later,” she winked.

‘Interesting,’ he thought and climbed down the stairs. *Snap,* a blue portal materialized, “let’s go Skokdrag,” he entered first.

“MASTER,” a voice yelled from the other side.

“What is it?” he stood in the shop with dwarves coming one after the other.

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“It’s Axius,” tis was Avon who panicked, “-he screamed as if having lost a family member.” Confused, with haste, the uncle teleported to the hotel.

“Ay dere lad, we have come under the order of his majesty,” Skokdrag promptly introduced the crew and the nature of the visit. Avon could not but welcome the gentlemen with a smile. Rather than notes and healing scrolls on the table, pick-axes, and building tools were placed. The shop was to remain shut for the next few days; the main room turned into a makeshift bedchamber for the workers.

“Auic,” the voice sharp and stance serious, Staxius arrived at the hotel. “O-over here,” she pointed at the floor, where Lizzie desperately tried to cheer the little boy up. The lad was surrounded by Undrar, Achilles, and the rest whomst stood in awe. Deadeyes remained outside with a face that begged for sleep.

“Shouldn’t you have used a sleeping spell already?” he walked in, the rest quickly changed their attention from the boy.

“We tried,” Viola spoke, “-but he somewhat rejected the mana,” her face perplexed.

“UNCLE,” he yelled and dashed over, “-i-its mom, I-I c-can’t sense her aura,” the tone felt serious and truthful.

“She’s all the way in Kreston, care to explain how you can sense her mana?” Now sat on the floor with legs crossed, Staxius engaged in conversation.

“I dunno, mother says it’s a skill named: Spirit-Sense,” he smiled, snot drooled over the mouth.

“Spirit-sense you say,” gently, he wiped the boy’s face and properly dressed the crumbled-up shirt and pants.

“Y-yes, mom said that it was rare and special,” the now plumped redden cheeks seemed better, the tears were wiped off.

“Don’t worry,” he combed Axius’s hair, “-I’ll make sure to find her. But I want a promise,” the right hand curled into a fist leaving only the pinky in a lock-shape. “A pinky promise that you will be a good boy and listen to what these lovely ladies have to say from now on,” he smiled.

“If that’s the case,” the voice felt somewhat intelligent,”-I want you to swear that you’ll bring back mother no matter what,” despite his age, both men entered a contract.

“Deal,” Staxius agreed, both pinkies intertwined with one another, “here forth, both Axius Haggard and Staxius Haggard are contracted to follow each other’s promises,” it might have seemed childish but vowed over a pinky promise was a great honor.

“He-he, good luck, uncle,” with haste, the boy ran towards the bedroom.

“Well then, that’s the situation handled,” he stood, the face changed from friendly to blank.

“You sure are good with kids,” Achilles said with an impressed tone.

“I’m pretty sure that phrasing could send off the wrong idea,” the eyes closed, the head shook in disappointment.

“Either way, you best get to work; it’s a pinky promise, leave the little boy to us,” Viola spoke reassuringly.

“Good night everyone,” the door closed behind, “Deadeyes, you best head to sleep,” Staxius patted the tired marksman’s shoulder.

“As you wish, master,” with a gun strapped on his back, the man returned to his room.

*Snap,* the dwarves stood outside and stared at the shop’s infrastructure. “Avon,” from inside, Staxius looked outside.

“Coming,” footsteps scurried from the backroom, “-did you manage to calm Axius?”

“He shan’t trouble no longer, have the workers settled in?” sleeping bags were scattered around the floor.

“I think so, they seemed pretty angry after checking out the walls.”

“Well it’s probably time for you to head to the hotel, Auic is waiting,” with a wink, the door opened. Avon walked off to the hotel.

“What do you think?” they stood on the other side of the street.

“Not that impressed, looks poorly made,” the hands gently stroked the white beard, the others remained silent. “What do you wanna do to that place?” from the building, the gaze shifted to Staxius.

“I need the place ready in less than five days, do whatever is needed. Extend it or break it, I care not, just make the place large enough to fit a table the size of that car over there,” he pointed at Void.

“Five days, majesty, that is improbable,” he fired back, the voice shocked.

“You said improbable but not impossible,” the voice seemed excited, “-use magic or any means necessary, I’ll open a temporary portal to Arda – use it to bring as many workers needed. Use anyone and everyone, I’ll give full authority, this property is mine; make two or three floors. The only requirement is a room secluded from the rest, maybe on a separate floor for I to work, tis about it,” the arms crossed, he waited for a response.

“Consider it built,” he proclaimed, “we’ll show his majesty the true beauty of dwarven architecture,” the rest was just as excited. Being able to build something in Rosespire, a place so far from home. A new territory, a place to showcase their craft.

“Here,” a heavy pouch was handed into Skokdrag’s hand, “-there are about fifty gold and a few silver pieces in there. Use them however you wish, seek me out if the money is lacking.”

“T-thanks your majesty,” they bowed and ran inside. A blue portal was opened in the back room.

The builders planned and designed how the building was to be constructed. The interior was still filled with furniture that proved to be cumbersome when moving around. With the goal now on sorting out everything before leaving for Kreston – Staxius headed towards a familiar place.

“If it’s not my favorite customer,” the walk down the street felt weirdly soothing. The place empty and noise reduced to a minimum, hoodlums walked around, they knew not to mess with the ponytailed man.

“Hello Timothy,” he walked into the bar; the place filled with smoke from cigars and littered with swear and insults – the visitors were rowdy.

“How can I serve ya?” he asked with an accent similar to the gang members.

“I need to use the toilet,” a phrase that immediately changed Tim’s face.

“As you wish,” the secret doorway opened, Staxius headed into the Twin Jellyfish bar.

Music and moans came from within, the place never really changed. Dimly lit with a hue of red and pink, the alchemist walked in. “You there,” the bartender gestured for the visitor to sit.

“No more bloodshed,” he voiced.

“Not my fault if they piss me off,” he fired back casually and sat.

“Welcome back, Staxius,” the bartender smiled.

“Thanks for the warm welcome, Jason,” the voice monotonous. Just as he said that; a drunken hitman stumbled over and accidentally scratched Staxius’s face.

“W-who da h-hell are y-you?” barely able to stand, the drunk man thought that he who sat was the one responsible.

“Who the hell am I?” the hands reached inside the vest.

“Hold up there,” before the fingers wrapped around the handle, Jason held his arm. “-can’t you see he’s drunk, and I said no more BLOODSHED,” having to clean up was a pain.

“Fine, no more bloodshed,” he turned around and decided to ignore what happened.

“Y-you am n-not finished, d-don’t l-look away,” he tightly grabbed onto the shoulder. *BANG,* a bullet flew by the hitman’s face.

“What did you say about bloodshed again?” Staxius added in jest, the one who fired was Jason.

“I do agree that it’s hard to keep calm when people are fucking idiots all the time,” the revolver went back under the counter, the hitman passed out. “You’re here to meet Karlson, I presume?” he guessed right, a glass sat on the table with ice-cubes inside.

“Where can I find him?” Staxius asked whilst sipping on whiskey.

“He’s probably balls deep into someone,” no filter, no tact, the language here was more than one could desire.

“Balls deep you say,” the head shot-back and he drank. “-do I look like I care?” the empty glass stood on the table, Jason could not but point to the right – the private rooms.

“CRY MORE, COME ON, IT’S YOUR JOB,” Karlson’s voice could be heard on the other side of the door. ‘Talk about privacy, it was all laid out for imagination to go wild.’

*Click,* “WHO STANDS THERE, THE FUCK OUTTA HERE,” the voice came from farther down the room.

“Come on old man, is that a way to greet a friend?” the light turned on exposing Karlson and the rather passionate display of affection.

“Don’t you have any shame?” the tattoed man stopped and sat; the lady quickly hid under a blanket.

“Shame, you must be joking,” the voice serious, he leaned on the frame of the doorway. The mouth held a cigar, the index finger conjured flames, Staxius wanted to try smoking for once.

“What do you want?” the way he leaned and smoked felt menacing, paired with the red-eye that glowed despite being dim, Karlson could not but shudder.

“Nothing much,” smoke blew out, “-I need a truck and a few men to help move some furniture,” despite being the first time, he smoked as if having done it for ages.

“Come on now lad, this ain’t no moving business,” butt-naked, Karlson tried to act tough.

“I don’t care,” from leaned, the footsteps approached, *phoo,* smoke blew on the leader’s face, “-get me a truck and some man right now or I’ll turn this whole building into the next Red Seal’s hideout.”

“F-fine, go meet Jason, there’s someone of interest currently at the bar. She might come in handy; the lass is quite feisty and controls around forty men – her gang is called, Sprinkles.” Intrigued, Staxius stepped back and waited. “-don’t go thinking that with a name like Sprinkles it gives you the right to underestimate the lady. That could be far from the truth, she works for the assassination sect of the organization, but you didn’t hear this from me. Also, use Shadow from here on as your nickname. Using the real name might jeopardize your identity in the real world. No need to worry about hiding the face, we have an iron rule that members of our organization are to never interfere with one another in the outside world. Tis how we keep everything secret and tidy, there are spies and eyes everywhere; the dark-guild isn’t the only underground society. There are others, ones more merciless than the other,” he took a pause and lit a cigar in turn. “With that being said, welcome to the dark-guild, Shadow – Renaud personally recommended you and said to greet thee with open arms.”

“Glad to be here, I guess,” another puff, the cigar was extinguished without getting much work done, the conversation came to a close.

“Contact Jason for future questions and job request, you may be powerful and intimidating but still a novice in the ranking. Deal with me directly after having gained some fame and repute, there’s a ranking system – more like titles assigned to individuals. More on that later, for now – use Jason however you like,” he went back into the lovemaking, Staxius stepped out.

‘Climb the ladder of the dark-guild – ruling others from behind the curtains isn’t such a bad thing.’ A smirk could be seen, a plausible and more fitting organization had been found. One who thrived in violence and death joined the elusive Dark-guilds.

“What did he say?” Jason asked whilst making another drink.

“I’m now a member of the organization under the name of Shadow – not that interesting nor is it cool,” he sat and drank, the background grew subtle.

“Shadow, that nickname was given to the prior elite assassin; tis more an honor. Karlson has more faith in you than he does his own man,” the hands worked subconsciously.

“Well, who cares, I’m looking for the leader of Sprinkles – I need a favor from them.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN!?” shocked, a glass nearly dropped.

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