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Chapter 320- A Night Prowl
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 05:00:05 +0000 UTCThe full moon cast its rays from above the clear night sky. A breeze puffed across the undulating fields rustling the sparse patches of maize. With the rocky soil, most of the lands on the outskirts of the city lay abandoned or overgrown with Indigo vines.
A cloaked figure strides across an open field, keeping away from the view of the road. Concealed in the darkness and with the assistance of the feeble light, he vaulted over a stile.
The skinny figure paused to readjust his bearings. As if by habit borne by experience, he kept to the shadow of a lone oak. Atop the barren knoll, he switched his gaze from the distant south gate to the east.
"The villa should be the one over yonder hills. Arash would have a lookout at the road. Knowing him, the barn might have a watch on the roof."
The tall figure ambled out from under the tree. A white beard swayed slightly in the wind.
"Haa. Young Doug, young Doug. When I first noticed your gang's progress, I recognized your potential. That's why I convinced those remaining three coots to hand you a token. Alas, I should have waited instead of pushing you into the limelight. As always, to grasp power is easy, to hold on to it requires a Sersen."
The old man muttered a monologue while walking.
"The only help I could have provided was to suggest this end-of-summer meeting as per the rules. I had hoped you and your group might have understood the subtle meeting and fled. All I can do is collect another ownerless token. I fear the future fate of my Bloodnight Society."
Crossing over a bubbling rocky brook, the elder paced up the hill. Clearing the horizon at the top, he slowed to a stand.
Before him, on the previous empty tor, perched a figure.
Jumping down, the shadow approached within ten paces of the old man.
"Haa? Gramps, what are you doing walking around this forsaken hour? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Observing the young lad, the old man shook his head with a sigh.
Once in the distant past, the soul of the Bloodnight Society revolved around discipline and skills. This was one of the reasons why he approached Doug and his gang.
They grilled and trained their growing gangs in both discipline and intellect. He had infiltrated one such 'monthly meetings' as they called it and was impressed by the level of dedication by the captains and lieutenants in the hierarchy.
Unfortunately, as their control over the slums expanded, the number of informants and spies created an ironclad defense against sneaky eavesdroppers.
"I wonder what I should do? I patrolled around and took care of everything. Should I head back and join the others in the revelry?"
The lad muttered. Only a fool wouldn't know how far whispers traveled at night. The old man shook his head,
It was the dedication and seriousness of the members of the Behemoth gang that impressed him, not like the behavior of this young lookout of Arash. Arash's gang conducted themselves like everyday run-of-the-mill thugs and street scoundrels.
Jinks and that other horseface operated the same.
"Grampa you must be one of those Chu labels senile."
This young upstart didn't even have his sword drawn or bother sending an alert signal.
Dressed in an open cloak and what could be described as quality leather peeking out from underneath, the brat displayed a defenseless stance.
Somehow, this boy represented everything wrong with the upper hierarchy of the underworld.
It had nothing to do with the stupid muttering face or stubble beard revealed under the moonlight.
The white-haired elder's boot moved silently while his waist dropped naturally.
Much like a weary geezer shifting his weight.
The measured move of his right hand beneath the cloak lay hidden in a soft speech.
"The Society is not for the likes of you to brazenly enter."
"Huh? I didn't catch what you are mumbling about..."
With a wrinkled face devoid of expression, the dagger stabbed forward under an unbelievable force from the wizened hand.
A calculated, sudden strike aimed to kill or incapacitate. A trump card of his arsenal.
For the first time in decades, the elder stumbled forward due to a lack of resistance.
The sharpened iron blade punctured only air.
Experience prevailed as he regained his stance. A quick scan found his mark standing about the same distance as before but now to the left.
"Geezer! You'd better give me a good reason not to..."
A dagger zoomed at the speed of an arrow aimed at puncturing the left eye.
Again it sliced through the air and tinkered somewhere on the weathered tor behind.
As the boy repositioned himself to a stop, another dagger aimed towards his heart.
Once again it passed through darkness.
"Unbelievable. To think Arash would have a Sersen this young under him."
The old man lowered his cowl revealing a face wrinkled through the vicissitudes of time. The gnarled fingers of both hands circled daggers.
"Too bad your actions show you had already been corrupted by that bald noble. You would have been a promising seedling. As a parting gift, I'll share some experience."
The elder slowly stepped forward towards the confused face.
"The winner of a fight between Sersen is dictated by one goal. The one who exhausts their ability first loses."
Another firm soundless step.
"Identifying the type through prodding."
A steady noisless footfall.
"A low-ranked demon beast gives two, pressing three is the limit. An intermediate, three maybe four. As for a high-ranked demonic beast, the ones in the Tower keep it a secret. Arash should have known better than to have a pleb as you roam as security. You're out of luck boy."
The old man rushed towards Ming in the absence of his ability. The thrust of his right dagger clanged on iron as the sword parried the strike. Faster than a trained assassin, the dagger on the left aimed for the throat.
Again the boy parried with a swipe of the sword.
Unrelenting, a series of stabs and swipes followed.
In the middle of such bombardment, a lunge, powered by a lifestone chased immediately after a parry. This time the tip of the second dagger followed the handle of the first.
A back-to-back assault of impeccable precision...
As the sword blade blocked and directed the first dagger outwards, the second dagger struck towards the defenseless heart.
In close combat with the opponent a mere foot or two away, speed-type Sersens dominated. Between two of the same kinds, the one who forced the first opening won.
'...'
With a pair of eyes popping out of his head, the old man dropped both arms to his side as he stumbled in a horrified retreat. Only by force of habit did the daggers remain in his hands.
The always steady, experienced fingers trembled slightly on seeing the inquisitive gaze of this monster locking on to him.
Only a Sersen with an ocular enhancement of some kind, coupled with a wealth of battle experience could begin to believe the nigh impossible.
At the last moment, just as the metal tip approached the leather armor, this young opponent retreated.
When his arm fully extended at the end of the deadly attack, the dagger blade stopped at a fingernail's width from the protective leather.
An action not premeditated, but an instantaneous decision and response during a speed-powered talisman stab.
Aghast, the wrinkled senior, bore a look of horror.
"It can't be that Arash found an intermediate lifestone? What madness.."
The old man watched the adolescent assume the standard Military sword stance.
With the sword held steady vertically before him, the boy spoke.
"Gramps, according to you, I should force a Sersen opponent to exhaust their skills right? Let's see, barring those flying daggers as normal attacks, I say maybe, you have one more. Or it's possible you can squeeze out an extra?"
In a flash, the boy appeared at his side. With both elbows bent close to the attackers, the horizontal sword thrust towards him.
Facing a situation of life and death, the elder of the Bloodnight society crossed his daggers to parry the attack sideways. Stumbling in retreat, he barely managed to raise a defense by activating his skill.
A voice drawled,
"I held back a little there. I count three. An intermediate it is then."
For the first time in decades, Head Elder Kruss turned his back on an opponent and fled.
Coughing blood, he urged his talisman to activate for one last time, as he sped across the brook into the valley.
In the darkness and stillness of the night, he heard the words of the distant boy,
"You shouldn't go that way, gramp..."
The seemingly warning words were extinguished when a brawny mass carrened into him from the side.
More and more the battered elder began to loathe that individual.
Elder Kruss felt as if a loaded wagon smashed into him as he flew sideways into the air and landed in a heap. Pain racked his paralyzed body.
Dazed and at the brink of losing consciousness, he spotted the blurred figure of the boy. At the side of the hateful brat, stood a huge wolf, its reddish tinge seemingly crackling with sparks.
Within a chaos initiated by pain, the elder linked together a few pieces of information.
'Arash owns no such frightful beast. The only wolf around here is the big one that visited the slums'
Pain from a few broken ribs, a fractured arm, internal injuries, and a displaced shoulder naturally caused his eyes to roll and faint. The last thought centered around two words.
'Behemoth gang'
Ming stood over the crumpled man before turning in the direction of the villa.
"Should I leave this guy here, or move him to the villa? Gramps is a Sersen so he might know something or two... or maybe I should just kill him to lighten the load."
***
Unaware of Ming's dilemma, Chu stood behind a tall pine.
The two had arrived after Dyna's contingent and spiraled inwards from the first lookouts at the road towards the villa.
Dyna had reported twenty guards accompanying Arash and his cronies on the road to the villa. Since then, only ten additional guards had arrived according to Singh.
A pair of sharpened cross bolts greeted the two hooligans at the gates of the estate before they could have questioned the teenaged travelers. The pair of lookouts nearby on the hill lost their throats to the stalking wolves.
Circling the fields, they found a party of four, merry while drinking ale. A few bolts later they were down.
A chattering group of five patrolled the rear of the villa. Three wolves slammed into them, rendering the guards into a paralyzed crumple. A dagger slice across the neck dispersed their souls.
Another group of five suffered the same treatment on the side road. Being blown away silently by a careening wolf zooming in from behind a bend. Chu sensed the excitement in the eyes of these cannonballers.
With one guy sleeping on the barn's roof remaining, he decided to take care of him on Dyna's signal. he has already eyed the ladder leaning on the far end.
Ming had left with Fenrir to circle outwards before returning to ensure no loose ends.
He notched a bolt when he spotted the teen arrive while lugging a load. The older teen dropped the trussed senior at his feet. The unconscious man had been bound by cloth stripped from his cloak.
Before Chu asked for an explanation, the lights inside the foyer before the entrance to the great hall went out. With the glow extinguished behind the shutters, Chu pointed to the sleeping guard.
"It's time, let's move."
