The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 111: Questions

Cold air blew around the room. The customers paid no heed till a loud bodily mass hit the floor. It caught their attention; mainly the owner for she stopped her conversation and rushed. Rushed did she by the side of the would-be assaulter; if it wasn’t for Avon, said body would have been hers. Though it raised commotion about how a man could have passed out, Staxius took all in hand and calmed their suspicion. He did a good job when covering for the man, neither did he look sketchy nor noncredible. Time was left to spare, the tailor edged him on taking the poor man to the hospice. “What about the dinner,” he asked in a regretful tone, the lady replied with, “there’s no time to waste. Take that man to the hospice, I’ll give you my address; you can come once he is taken care of,” she worried for the unconscious fellow. Staxius felt it, the pain when the sight of the man when he came into her view. “No use arguing with you is there,” in the end, he chose to take the man to the hospital

Or so what he said to the lady, for when the car started – it drove out of town. Out of Claireville academy and into the capital – the journey would last about four hours. “I really looked forward to having a homecooked meal,” he muttered gently, the unconscious body laid beside him. Hands and feet tied; the car continued forth. “Master,” half-way into the journey, Avon spoke, “-why did you want to have that meal so badly?” he asked while sitting on Staxius’s lap. “There’s nothing much to it,” he added softly, “-I just wanted to see how people lived around town. I was told the populous lived without fear of hunger but I wanted to see it for myself,” he ended. “I guess it won’t happen then,” Avon replied. The trip to the capital would take more time, “I guess not,” his tone changed, the eyes focused onto the road.

Soon, the night made all chilly and shady. From kilometers away, the capital lit brightly, it was like a light in the middle of a dark room. It amazed anyone who approached; technology here had advanced more than the other towns and villages. For once, people had electricity. Not just electricity, anything was possible – Staxius always had his mind blown by how much civilization grew in the last decade. From swords to guns, from battlemages to adventurers, from simple constructions to full-on skyscrapers. It all told how much man-kind could do when given the right condition and materials.

Having lived and spent most of his time in Arda; the differences became apparent. Compared to Rosespire; Arda’s technology wasn’t that advanced. However, when it came to magic; the Ardanian had the edge over anyone and everyone. A thought, an idea, a fantasy crossed his mind the instant he entered through the main gate. ‘What if Arda and Rosespire shared their knowledge. I know not the state of affairs in the other continents, but I’m sure that we would become a continent so powerful we could rule the world. An army of demi-humans and support from Rosespire; a full-on war. But who am I kidding, a war against who?”

Carefully, the car turned here and there and arrived. Their destination, not the hospital but the adventuring guild. He had a gut feeling that said man was important. The sheer size of the guild never failed to impress. Despite it being night, it crawled with people turning in requests and adventurers just chilling upstairs. With the suit now gone, Staxius’s crest and guild badge were left exposed to the open. The silver, gold and platinum, reflected most light and so did the dragon. “Who’s that man,” from the café and to the balcony, he caught their attention. It went around, they were curious about who he was and the room grew noisier. “What a show-off,” lower-ranks hated him, “-how powerful is he?” some asked, “what rank does he have?” the badge was in fact confusing.

“Greetings Staxius,” instead of Diane, Melisa received him instead. “Greetings,” he returned her act of courtesy, “how may we be of service?” she asked curious to his late-night visit. “Nothing much,” he sighed and straighten the posture, “-long story short,” he skipped every detail he possibly could, “I have captured a would-be criminal. He was on the verge of committing a homicide, but something tells me that he has more in store than he lets on. The aura around him wasn’t normal; it was darker and denser than a normal murderer.” Unknowingly he did give out information, but inconsequential ones; her face was stuck in a perpetual smile. Her confusion grew but she smiled and waited. “I apologize,” he saw the bafflement in her eyes, “-I just have someone of interest, may I have room to maybe ask some questions?” the tone felt slightly psychotic. “I care not about you asking some questions,” her reply stood firm, “-if a room is what you desire, we can provide you with one. But absolutely no torture and no bloodshed; we’ll be watching.” Her eyes serious, Staxius agreed.

‘We’ll definitely not make it back for dinner,’ he chuckled. The room was painted in grey and black, a single light bulb that occasionally flickered stood overhead. A weird buzzing remained around, behind him a mirror. A one-way mirror to be precise; Melisa wasn’t lying when she said they were going to watch. Sat in front of him, the one who he caught, tied and still unconscious. “Avon,” he spoke, “how may I be of service?” the spirit materialized, Melisa’s fondness grew; she was intrigued by that man – mysterious and unreadable.

.....

“Can you use water magic?” Staxius asked in a monotonous tone, “master, I’ve told you before. I can use any type of magic, just say the word.” Avon did or didn’t say that, who knew – Staxius forgot that detail along the way. “Excellent,” Staxius smiled, “splash his face with the coldest water you can summon,” and as per his orders – the man was drenched into consciousness. “What is this,” he awoke and immediately tried escaping. He looked as if a stray cat had been captured. The attempts in trying to break free were answered back with only a laugh. “W-who are you?” the man asked, Staxius watched with a menacing face. The man continued the frivolous attempts, soon he grew tired and gave in. “What do you want?” the tone felt normal; he hadn’t given up yet. “Nothing much, just some information,” Staxius smiled, “depends on what kind of information,” the man held a conniving smile. “Information about you trying to assault the tailor,” his eyes felt piercing, the man felt as if Staxius saw right through him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied sincerely, the man was talented – talented into arts of lying and deception. That much became apparent within the first minute of the conversation.

Instead of giving a reply, or any movement to that matter – Staxius sat and waited. Avon leaned against the mirror – Melisa watched intently. Without saying anything, the man spat on Staxius. *Snap,* a dark flame evaporated the liquid. “That’s a bit disrespectful, isn’t it?” he changed his posture into one much more serious and sterner. “From that reaction, I’m guessing you can’t do anything to harm me physically,” the man smiled, he was correct. Harming him meant having Melisa breathing down Staxius’s neck. Nevertheless, Staxius could have cared less. He wanted to resolve this and get information.

“A one-way mirror must be the reason why you can’t do anything to me,” the man continued to analyze his surroundings. For a would-be murderer, the awareness he showed was masterful. “I’ve had enough,” Staxius added and sighed.

*As the one whom you’re contracted to, I order thy to reveal this man’s weakness and how to exploit it. Dark Arts, Sense personality. *

[Victim: Alan Mame, age 25]

[Personality: Subtle and ruthless]

[Prediction: Part of the Dark-guild]

[Weakness: Being inferior]

[Best Approach: Being more ruthless and psychotic than he]

‘More ruthless and psychotic, that’s going to be hard with Melisa watching,’ he thought. The man continued to ramble nonsense. “Hey, you with the dragon crest.” He called out, Staxius raised his eyes menacingly, “-are you going to sit and do nothing?”

“Alright, Alan Mame,” Staxius said seriously, “h-how do you know my name?” the man’s eyes turned gloomy. “I shan’t take much more of your time,” he stood, “I’ve but one question; why did you try and attack that tailoring shop.” He leaned closer, ‘Avon, summon water magic and then heat it.’ Telepathy worked, Avon understood and followed the order. In a matter of minutes, the mirror began to fog up and the view inside blocked. “W-what are you doing?” the aura around Staxius changed, the man grew slightly scared. “nothing much, just asking some questions,” he let out a slight grin

*As the one bounded to my soul, heed mine own call, dearest friend and companion, Fenrir, appear before me.*

“Greetings master,” she jumped and hugged, things never changed. “I want us to use the same combination spell we did when I first met up with Thunderstain.” She nodded, and the man was sent into an illusion world. A realm where Staxius reigned as the master. Meanwhile, the fog cleared – Melisa saw Staxius once more, he sat calmly but beside him, a woman. Blue hair, wolf’s ears, a tail, and the perfect body. Her beauty rivaled anyone for miles, Staxius’s face didn’t change the least. Fenrir’s tight clothes even made her shy but Staxius didn’t pay heed. For him, Fenrir was a friend and a good companion, nothing could ever change that. And to her, Staxius was the same as well as a powerful leader and master.

Behind the scene, in the other realm; the room remained the same. However, Staxius was free to do what he wanted – and thus, the sadist personality came through. Lord Death’s appetite to see people suffer and Staxius’s perpetual rage let loose. Alan went through hell, torture was least of his worry. From chipping his nails too close to covering his head with a blanket. Staxius put the man on a table and let drops of water drip onto the forehead. Time went faster, the pain of each drop became apparent. In the illusion world, a week had passed, the man’s mind felt all the pain and suffering. However, in the real world, only an hour had passed.

The torture didn’t stop, Staxius took his time, he burnt, sliced, ripped hair. Tied Alan’s body to two-wheel and stretched it, in the end, Alan cried but never said anything. This didn’t bother Staxius, the torture was like playing a game. He enjoyed every single moment, all the blood lust he had was poured into making that man break. From fingers to the nose and ears, Staxius began to sliced them, slowly, millimeter by millimeter using a rusty knife.

“F-fine...” he gave in after two hours, “I-I’m p-part of t-the dark-guild. I-I was sent to a-assassinate the tailor shop owner because she owed us a lot of coins. Today is the night where if she can’t pay the toll, I’d have killed her. But if things went wrong – in the unlikely event that she reached home. Another gang would take over and rush her house. She lives with three daughters the youngest being five years old and the oldest being eleven. T-the d-dark guild d-does not care. If she can’t pay her family will work for it – human slavery, prostitution; you name it.”

*Clap* the spell vanished; Alan found himself back in his normal body. Whatever he said was heard by Melisa, Fenrir was transported back to Dorchester. “Thank you for your corporation,” Staxius stood, the aura he gave out was one of someone on the verge of going on a rampage.

The door slammed shut, Melisa tried to approach him but was stopped by his gaze. “I’m going back to Claireville academy,” he left. “WAIT,” before he exited the hall, she caught up, “I’ll put in a request for her rescue, don’t worry, the adventurers can take care of this; the dark-guild is far stronger than you think.” She didn’t want him to go into battle alone, “do I look like I care?” he shook her off and headed outside.

‘Scum, I swear by lord death’s name; he shall receive the soul of the ones who tried to hurt innocents. I’m not a hero, just someone who hates when people think they are above others,’ the car lit, it roared so loud it rattled everywhere, “Avon, go into overdrive.”