The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 782

Chapter 782: Under Attack

A night of senseless drinking, a night of forgiving one’s worries. Celebrations elapsed long into the cold dawn of December the 16th. Igna woke in the Rosespire manor, one located within the noble district.

‘My neck,’ he sat straight, the body took a beating from the ill-advised posture upon the couch’s frame, ‘-those two are absolutely alcoholics, who in their right mind can drink so much and not flinch.’ Time read 05:45 on the dim screen, the title screen moved per the introduction to the local news. The sight was drawn, and soon, he increased the volume.

“Master, breakfast is ready,” said éclair stood in the corridor.

“You sure are healthy.”

“I know how to balance the alcohol I take,” he commented smugly. Attention would unknowingly carry onto the screen, the first news reported on the trial of Igna Haggard.

“The trial between Viscount Haggard and son of Baron Denlord ended in a complete victory on Igna’s side. Evidence revealed lord Theo would have crashed into a crowd of bystanders if not for Igna’s intervention. The injuries were explained as a mishap during the scuffle. Her majesty, queen Gallienne, ordered the Count’s dismissal from her court and abandonment of the title of Count. Properties have been transferred to the Haggard Dynasty who’s, from what report says, have donated part of the estate to be an orphanage,” few images from yesterday played under the voice over. “-Next we have the sudden increase in plague victims,” the broadcast toggled.

“I’ll have a shower,” he yawned and stretched, “-meet you at breakfast.”

.....

“Understood,” said éclair.

Promenading along the manor had an eerie feeling. The estate, very valuable nowadays, laid in his pocket. The showers fell, and a new day began.

Location, Glenda, time, 06:30, beastmen dressed in visor vest carefully guided a large truck through the damp muddy path of the southern road. “Lady Stewardess,” called one, “-we’re ready to unload the cargo,” he said.

“Right,” she stood boldly upon the castle walls, “-have the traders take it from here.” The wind blew, she sharply turned and glided down the stairs, the inside of the castle town consisted of traders and adventurers. Inhabitants rose their hand and nodded when she walked past, especially at the marketplace, the merchants were more than welcome to scream her name and laugh, of which, she kindly returned through a smile of her own. The face held much tension, and the smile, timidly awkward, wasn’t noticed by the bystanders.

“Tired,” she pushed aside a wall and entered a bedroom, paperwork flooded her table and laid on the floor, “-I’m tired,” she complained and made for the bed, the frame rocked from her fall into the heavenly pillows, “-sleep.” Clinks of metal, heavy movements, and stomps audibly walked along the corridor to forcefully stop at the door, *tap, tap,* “-coming in,” said a headless figure.

“It’s you,” returned a desolate stare, “-what’s the matter?” habit forced a look upward and above the shoulders.

“Trouble,” the voice spoke from the hip, its arms had cradled the helmet, “-Arda needs to decide on a leadership. Either Glenda is declared the capital or the elven faction at the ancient tree will revolt. Tension is strong, everyone’s settled with their teams.”

“The trip to the capital was that bad?” she inquired politely.

“Bad doesn’t cover half the mess I saw. The elves are very proactive, what was reported to be an abandoned tree has recovered into a booming town. They refuse to allow other races to enter save they be nobles or traders. It’s worse than imagined, slavery is on the table again, the king’s ordered the demi-humans to be subjugated. The last word was the safe-haven of Holia, a bastion sea-town to the west, was invaded by the elvish army. They but stood on the hill and waited for them to make the first move, the lord, Mino Asic, was threatened into surrendering his people for the sake of their families.”

“There’s no law saying slavery is bad, the morality of the situation is what’s in question. Without leadership, the elven people have amassed under a strong party. Glenda’s surviving from the accord of our citizens.”

“We ought to have the queen of Arda take her rightful place,” he said, “-otherwise, I see two outcomes; war or the peaceful takeover of Glenda. They’ll need food, hunting monsters will only bring so much. The agricultural reform’s solved the famine situation, we can smile whilst the elvish people watch enviously.”

“I’ll make for Hidros right away,” she said, “-have this message delivered to the Blood-King’s faction. Strengthened the border patrol along the walls and ready the canons.”

“Understood.”

After Alta took leadership of Glenda, her focus immediately turned to agriculture, they made money from loans granted by the blood-king’s faction, the verbal agreement and presence of lady Elvira softened the dire situation. A few kilometers north of Hect and Ect, after the great wall, the unused land cupped within the Avender Valley, spanning countless kilometers, was terraformed into a haven for plants. The natural stream running down the valleys was easily restructured to water the plants. The scale wasn’t heavily obnoxious, gentle slopes and gentle hill, using ‘valley’ to describe the land gave the wrong impression. Nevertheless, the farmlands were rich – a farmer’s union formed inside Glenda, they took a seat at the office and promised to make sure famine is resolved. The Head of the union was a man by the name of Urzel Yog, a demi-human who underwent surgery to remove and fit human society. Similar to Igna, Alta scouted and made grew her entourage – the elven faction grew in numbers and military strength, Glenda grew culturally and economically.

*Beep,* “-cousin, why must we ride in aunt’s car?”

“Because it’s fun?” he replied.

“Yes, and it brings to much attention,” he exclaimed through pressed lips, “-what then, I heard about the case, congratulation on the victory.”

“Tis a precursor to what is to happen next,” he said, the path taken gunned towards the northwest to Rotherham.

“Explain.”

“The press will continue to lampoon Apexi at the current rate. I’ve seen the reports, the company’s in hot water, especially since the profits were sent to pay the university.”

“Don’t start,” the eyes rolled to stare outside, “-it was fine...”

“Not by what the people are saying. My little secret’s gained popularity, more witnesses are coming out against Apexi. Tides favor the opposition.”

“I know, we know.”

“No need to sound so irritated,” he exhaled, “-about my offer, did you take it into consideration?”

“Yes and I refuse to allow Apexi to fall under such circumstances. The Haggard will not have their name dragged into the mud. I don’t mind calling a few hitmen to help in the cleaning...”

“Stop right there,” he laughed, “-killing will only increase suspicion. I say, let them attack Apexi, let them focus on Phantom,” the lips perked in an ominous sneer.

“I know that look,” said Julius, “-tell me about it,” the prince stared the rearview mirror, “-also, what’s with the fizzy-haired pretty boy in the backseat?”

“Meet Raphael, ex-archangel of Restoration.”

“Hello,” said a listless voice, “-master, I’m glad you came,” he said, “-waiting in the inn grew tiresome,” the expression bordered that of a sloth, unwilling to act or move – even now, he leaned against the window desperately trying to sleep.

“Ignore him,” said Igna, “-an airhead.”

“As in clumsy?”

“No, as in he doesn’t have anything in his head. Raphael’s a weird case.”

“Cousin, I’m sure you’ve noticed the man’s dampened powers, right?”

“Pardon?” he shot a perplexed look to Julius who’d fully turned towards the angel.

“Yeah, it’s bad,” he said, “-he’s lost the ability to channel mana through his core...”

“And?”

“It means,” *puff,* the car suddenly felt lighter, “-he’s reverting to infancy. I guess that’s fine,” turned to the front, “-being branded a fallen angel means to start again from scratch. Angels are strange entities, immortal and at times, stronger than their gods. The core’s retracted to allow for the rebirth and regrowth, guess you have another kid to care for.”

“Another one...”

“Yes, another one,” he laughed, “-cousin sure loves his children.”

“Don’t... just don’t.”

The prior conversation fell on Raphael’s ears, ‘-it’s begun, my rebirth. I feel younger and lighter, the culmination of my friends’ cores is what made my mind strong. Don’t worry, I’ll get on my feet soon enough,’ head against the window, ‘-I want to sleep.’

Rotherham; the skyscrapers rose over yonder. Igna pulled into the parking lot and climbed to the top of his penthouse overlooking Halo Mall.

“Nice apartment,” commented Julius, “-very good location.”

“Don’t ask,” he took off his shoes and continued inside, “-I was baffled at the construction, Rotherham’s thriving; even more than words could say.”

“I do hope we’re here for a reason,” narrowed the prince, “-the sudden call and decision to leave the capital at such a trying time for our company... feels irresponsible.”

“Stop with the worrying, take a seat, I’ll have some drinks readied.” The prince entered to momentarily stop; a warm pressure laid against his back.

“Tired,” yawned Raphael, “-I want to sleep,” he moaned.

“Did you shrink?”

“What are you talking about,” fired the angel, “-I didn’t shrink, you grew,” the words left with reckless abandon to pronunciation.

They say in the living room and allow natural lighting from the balcony to ease to the atmosphere, “-Igna, about Raphael?”

“Let him,” said Igna, “-he’s sleeping on the beanbag. Best to leave the unknown, untouched.”

“Sure...”

“Time to discuss what’s going to happen to Apexi,” *knock, knock,* “-Master!” the door barged in, the cacophonous hit resounded, Igna and Julius watched with straight-face, “-HELP!”

“Alta?”

“Help me,” she stormed inside and grabbed his shoulders, “-help me.”

“Quiet down, Alta,” he peacefully gripped her wrist, “-what happened?”

“Nothing major,” returned a devious smile, “-just the whole fate of a kingdom, the potential of having the throne usurped by a stronger faction, you know, the usual.”

“Awfully sarcastic,” commented Julius.

“Take deep breaths, we’re discussing how to move forward,” the television played in the background, a live broadcast of Apexi’s idols on tour.

“Alta, take a seat,” said an uncaring voice. The outburst felt pointless, her body subconsciously made for the next couch, one closer to the balcony.

*Incoming call: éclair,* “Excuse me a moment,” he stood and made for the outside, “-what’s the matter?”

“Urgent news; agents of the Anti-narco unit have stormed one of Phantom’s remote narcotic-making facilities. None’s been held accountable, they have their suspicion laid on us, I fear the province may grow against the established norm.”

“What am I supposed to do, this is a matter for the D.G and Phantom to handle. Won’t flapping a few bills against their faces do the job?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, “-the situation looks dire.”

“Keep me updated, if we lose a remote base, there must be someone who’s unraveling our yarn of intrigue,” the call ended on a bitter taste. He walked inside with a less than friendly mien, the guests chose not to ask and waited, “-let’s talk about Apexi,” said Igna, “-I’ve yet to understand the line of thinking behind why we’d be attacked. The entertainment industry isn’t so profitable, we monopolize but also give other agencies work, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do,” said Julius, “-the only perk we have is first pick on the idols, nothing more, nothing less. It isn’t like we’ve stopped other people from working.”

He sank in the chair and watched the ceiling, ‘-I wonder,’ the eyes shut. *Beep, beep,*

“My call,” said Julius promptly exiting the living room.

“Master, are you well?” inquired Alta, “-I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “-is Arda that bad?”

“Yeah, it’s bad, we risk losing everything. The great wall’s prevented invasions by land, can’t say much by sea or air. The situation here looks bad too,” her cheeks crinkled, ‘-we’re seriously in big trouble.’

“Everything we’ve worked for is under attack.”

.....

“Sorry,” said Julius ambling back in, “-Apexi was bought out...”

“WHAT?”