The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 703: True Demonlord [34]

‘Keep sinking your teeth,’ *Blood-Arts: Extria,* ‘-there, continue.’ Pure malice and hatred exuded from what used to be caring eyes. Each press of the jaw splattered crimson across the clean tiles. Hina watched in horror, “-tell me,” he flinched, Henzh doubled down on the bite, “-decide his fate,” he gritted. The swallowed blood glued into a crystal, ‘-continue, the more you ingest the easier it will be to kill.’

“GET AWAY FROM HIM,” cried across the hall, “-IGNA!” the princess charged in with spatula in hand. Open palm to the front, a green hue rattled the floor and beds, the very foundation shook, “-I’ll kill him, I swear,” her hair levitated.

“Stand firm,” fired Igna, “-keep the area protected.”

“Why?”

“Do as I say,” rebutted an impatient voice, “-Hina; decide!”

“I-I-I-I...”

“DECIDE!” the head violently shook, tearing muscle and exposing bones, the sight settled on the neck, *bite*

.....

‘-Too far, only a vampire has the right to bite there.’ *snap,* faint crystals surfaced from the skin, the bite eased, and it fell. The eyes turned backward; the complexion turned white. *Bouf,* knees to the hard floor, ‘-the turned are a menace,’ the wound bled profusely, the sight alone force many to avert their gaze. The pain resounded in the stomachs. Fia took it badly and made for Hina’s neck, “-why didn’t you decide!” and lifted. Googlᴇ search ɴovᴇl_Firᴇ.ɴet

“Enough,” clambered to a stand, “-don’t worry, Fia, I’m glad you cared,” stumbled to her shoulder, “-Maids, clean up the mess and have the body cremated. Listen, people, here’s the truth, death will come no matter the consequences. I might have saved the lives; I don’t guarantee a full recovery. Hina, there was only one option, no matter the answer, I would have tried to rescue the man. Sadly, the lack of will, the unwillingness to answer resulted in his death. Yes, I blame you, and solely you, not the curse, nor my injuries, you killed a man, and thou art be ashamed. Heavier drips scattered across, Fia’s relentless fury brought a sense of danger, soon, the duo climbed the stairs.

‘Henzh...’ head to the floor, ‘-did I kill...’

“Don’t take the words lightly,” interjected Ginka, “-stand up, Hina.”

“No, I stand behind what the alchemist did,” coughed the fatigued Froy, “-Hina, the moment of doubt on the battlefield would have resulted in countless deaths.”

“I fear the worse,” said Meza, “-the injuries were bad on top of which he was bitten by a turned. This might be the end for the Alchemist as well.”

“-the end?” the teary cheeks lifted to tightly pressed lips. In said moment, five maids came in stride. Armed with mops and detergents, the cleaning began, not before the body was nonchalantly transported to the backroom.

Upstairs, the unfired stove blasted into life, “-what the hell?” narrowed Fia, “-Igna, are you or are you not injured?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention?” he casually pointed to the injuries, “-I heal fast.”

“The wound’s gone,” her eyes widened, “-are you immortal?”

“No, no,” he refused, “-I used a healing spell.” The explanation seemed to ease her mind a little, ‘-being immortal is my ace; can’t well let everyone know I can’t die.’

“Still,” she pinched his sleeves, “-I was scared...”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he patted her head, “-per her highness’s wishes, I have prepared a feast worthy of thy title.”

*Growl,* “-finally.”

Unknown to the masses, a faint line of crimson went along the walls and into a jar, ‘-went according to plan,’ he ate in the company of a relieved Fia, ‘-Henzh was the perfect test subject for the turned syndrome. The blood sample should suffice for a rudimentary cure, if the answer isn’t in the curse, tis time to investigate the blood. Letting him bite confirmed a hypothesis, the curse isn’t transferred so easily, there’s another factor at play.’

The morning moved tonight, besides recovery and trauma treatment, nothing of consequence happened at the alchemist quarters. The desolate land of monsters swaps for the well-illuminated Stanley’s homage. Neon signs went around various shops and buildings of the famed Onimas square. A tourist hotspot and former property of the Luon Familia. A black van pulled shy of the square towards the east, a shabby alley in where moss, garbage, and water dripped from a broken pipeline. The beautiful front had a nasty secret.

“Everyone ready?” went across the earpieces.

“Asmodeus here, I’m ready,” he stretched.

“Yeah, it’s working,” said Kul.

“I’m here too,” voiced Starix.

“Today’s operation is simple. We’re working hand in hand with the police this time. Green Light needs a reality check; Starix, you take point, Kul and Asmodeus, hang in the shadows if matters escalate; have at it.”

“Man, the wind is breaking my hairstyle,” complained the prince, “-follow me Kul, we’re moving to the roofs, up to you, rookie, prove thy worth,” and off the figures scattered from building to building. The mixture of lights peeped over yonder.

‘My first scheme,’ he walked, ‘-two birds with one stone.’ *Arise, helpers from the Shadow Realm, I, humble follower, require aid,* five well-armed men in tuxedos summoned from another world.

“Ready for orders,” said one.

“Has the dud been prepared?” inquired he.

“Yes,” to which another rose in the distance, a casual face and empty stare, “-the memories have been altered to suit the current operation.”

“Good,” he nodded, ‘-looks like necromancy works wonders.’

The target location, a tall building at the edge of Stanley’s homage to the northeast, a straight line, and one would be at Fuda Mountains. The streets were clear, vehicles at a minimum, a range of cars crossed a bridge and made for Inexc, a rented building of various uses. The mob, mainly, the Saku, held rights to said property – one before which was owned by Luon. “-Target sighted,” said éclair, “-as you do, Kul.”

“On it,” a black orb fired from quite a ways away. The impression of gunfire shook the escort, “-BOSS!” cried one, the man fell noiselessly. In there, an ambush dashed from each corner and opened fire.

“ACTIVE SHOOTING,” spread to the nearby streets, the citizens, washed by dread, made for the center – bullets after bullets, those of the Saku Familia dropped, enforcers and hitmen alike held no chance.

“éclair, send the signal,” voiced Asmodeus.

“They’re on their way,” siren broke through the chatter-filled night.

‘Hook, line, and sinker,’ smirked Starix, “-retreat people, leave the dud behind.” The lonesome gunmen continued raining death onto the building, he fired regardless of the target. Law enforcement would arrive and contain the situation a few minutes later, ‘-scary,’ thought Odgar prowling the prior bloodbath. ‘Jula said the Raven’s had a present, I wonder what they referred to?’

“Detective, we’ve apprehended the shooter.”

‘Really?’ the brows rose, ‘-the mob has a habit of killing themselves...’ then and there, a plausible scenario clicked, “-take him to the station this instant.” Bodies wrapped in white cloth were hoisted into ambulances, the few survivors bore the insignia of the Saku Familia. ‘-One prominent street boss was killed, the Saku will feel the burden soon enough. Looks like there’s a break for the Chief to fight the backlash.’

Early morning rose to a bright day; the media was in a frenzy to cover the news. Odgar Codd, recently recruited from a private investigator, was placed in charge of the case. The phone rang on constant, in the end, tired by the bickering, gave a statement, “-we’ve apprehended the suspects of last night’s shooting. The details will be made public later this afternoon, the captive has been very cooperative.”

“éclair,” resounded across the manor,”-how’s the setup?”

“Completed,” he smiled triumphantly, “-good work, the chief will be more indebted to us.”

“Well, gathering bodies is one thing,” she facepalmed.

“Question,” wondered the butler.

“Shoot.”

“Do you always cross-dress?”

“Whatever do you mean,” she shrugged, “-I can be either man or woman; though I’ll always be a princess by heart. Anyhow, they should find the lead. Tis wonderful how humans fixate on a single narrative to further their advance, the populous want someone to be held accountable,” the television flicked on, “-and here we have the perfect one.”

“Hear me, people of Odgawoan, this has gone on for too long. I can’t afford to stand on the sideline anymore. We’re launching a campaign against the corrupt police force. I promise to do all in my power, in return, I wish for support in the next council election. Support my cause and I promise this town to be rid of gangs.”

Before long, the count’s campaign gained momentum, the more he spoke, the harsher grew the townsfolk. Pressure stacked onto the police force, if results weren’t found, the heavy hammer of justice would fall.

3rd of December, a week passed, no report of shootings occurred in the meantime. Election for the council was to be hosted on the 5th – the count gave an ultimatum, a direct challenge to Chief Valentino.

Pride and overconfidence made the count predictable. Secret support for an underground organization of his own elevated the aura of grandeur. “Good morning master.”

“Good morning,” replied Igna, “-Starix, long time no see, how are you doing?”

“Very well,” he replied courteously, “-are you watching the scene?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “-I never thought this would happen, are you the schemer?”

“They didn’t know what hit them,” she cackled, “-enjoy the show.”

While the media fired the hatred against law enforcement, shadows worked on the sly in the investigation of the shooting. A key witness, unrefutable evidence, and a truthful story were brought to court, whereby Count Oathtall was ordered before a distinguished judge. The arrest was heavily publicized, the court hearing lasted a total of six hours, and in the end, the Count was found guilty. Long story short, the captive, after being subjected to a truth-binding spell, answered questions without stopping. He gave information on the hideout and their leader, an unknown man, bearing striking resemblance to the count. The leads were damning and led to Alice’s nightmare were evidence of the Count’s presence; electoral papers, private information, witnesses, painted a canvas of culpability. Lawyers of the count couldn’t fight, the accusers, a team of foreign attorneys, dressed in lavish suits, bore Phantom’s insignia. Given the situation, and pressed by the election, the judge came to a stern judgment. Count Oathtall was found guilty of conspiracy, murder, fraud, and kidnapping. The noble title allowed for leeway, and thus, after correspondence to the emperor, was stripped to the title of Baron. Land and property were transferred to the state, the money would be allocated to the various victims. A transcript of the hearing made headlines, “Count Oathtall, master manipulator.”

“Long day,” the evening sunburnt in amber.

“Long day indeed,” replied éclair, “-I appreciate the help in flying to Alphia.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said the lawyer, “-my job is to serve. We should head out, the jet awaits. Take care, éclair.”

“You too,” sports cars laid in wait. Far to the right, the ex-count, shocked and distraught, was taken to be executed.

“éclair,” hailed Odgar, the courtroom slowly emptied.

“Detective, the investigation went accordingly. Too bad the Saku were left untouched.”

“Not really, they very much jumped on the bandwagon to lay blame on the count. Tis a good day far as I’m concerned.” The press waited impatiently for the Chief, of which she answered questions and gave ample assurance.

“There you are,” gestured Starix, “-we’re going to have a drink, come on éclair, join us.”

“Suppose I should get going,” said Odgar.

“No, you too, bring the lady along,” voiced she.

“Drinking party at the manor,” said éclair, “-do visit us, we must celebrate a case gone right.”

“I’ll ask Jula, no guarantee.”

“Fair enough,” the sun gave to a cold sky, “-take care, detective.”

*Puff,* ‘-Master’s companions didn’t lie when they said we were under their protection. The evidence, the culprit, it all worked out perfectly, the media’s satisfied and so are the people. I shudder at those who dare move against us,’ a half-smile broke the frown.