Chapter 112: Kidnapped

The next day, inside the opulent halls of Prince Anish's mansion, the atmosphere was tinged with an air of anticipation.

The morning sun barely filtered through the heavy curtains, casting the room in a dim, golden light.

The grandiose architecture, adorned with intricate carvings and lavish tapestries, seemed to hum with the energy of the day's new developments.

Prince Anish sat comfortably on a cushioned chair, his robe of deep blue silk draping elegantly around him.

A servant approached with a scroll in hand, bowing low as he presented the message. Anish took the scroll, dismissing the servant with a wave of his hand.

As he unrolled the parchment, his eyes quickly scanned the contents, and a slow, menacing smile crept across his face.

"Ha ha ha! So, it's you lot who ruined the Sayys!"

His laughter echoed off the walls, rich and filled with a sense of triumph.

He could almost picture the turmoil brewing within the Sayy Mansion, the old matriarch's face twisting in fury as she discovered the news.

The black-cloaked figure standing silently beside him stepped forward, his presence almost blending with the shadows of the room.

"Your Highness," he began in a low, gravelly voice, "shall we arrange for guards to protect those involved? The Sayys are not known for their mercy. Retaliation may be inevitable."

Prince Anish's smile only widened as he considered the suggestion, but then he waved his hand dismissively. "No need, no need. The Sayys wouldn't dare touch them. Not if they know what's good for them."

The black-cloaked figure inclined his head slightly. "And if they do, Your Highness?"

Anish's eyes glinted with amusement as he leaned back in his chair. "If they do? Then the old woman from the Sayy Mansion will have sealed their fate."

"But I doubt she'll be that foolish."

"The Sayys are more cunning than they are strong. "

"They'll bide their time, try to gather more information, and perhaps even scheme a way to turn this situation to their advantage."

"But they won't strike—at least not immediately."

The figure beside him remained silent, contemplating the prince's words. Anish's confidence was unwavering, his smile a permanent fixture on his face as he continued to imagine the chaos that was about to unfold. 

"Ha ha!" Anish's laughter broke the silence again, a sound both gleeful and sinister. "I wonder how that old crone will react when she learns of this. "

"Her precious Sayy Mansion, in ruins because of a few insignificant pests."

"And when she finally does piece it together, she'll realize there's nothing she can do about it."

"The realization will eat away at her, just as it will eat away at the rest of her pathetic house."

"Your Highness," the cloaked figure spoke again, a hint of curiosity in his tone, "you seem rather pleased.

Do you expect this situation to benefit us more than just by weakening the Sayys?"

Prince Anish's eyes gleamed as he turned his gaze toward the window, staring at the distant horizon.

"Oh, it will benefit us greatly."

"The Sayys have always been a thorn in our side, but with them out of the picture—at least partially—we'll have more room to maneuver."

"The power vacuum they leave behind will be a perfect opportunity for us to expand our influence."

"The other factions will scramble to fill it, and we'll be there to play them against each other."

The cloaked figure nodded in understanding, seeing the larger picture that Anish had painted. "And the Sayys themselves?"

"They'll lick their wounds and plot in secret, of course," Anish said, almost dismissively. "But by then, it will be too late."

"Their power will be fractured, their allies unsure of their strength. The old woman might try to hold things together, but without the respect and fear she once commanded, the Sayys will be nothing more than a shadow of their former selves."

Anish chuckled once more, the sound full of wicked satisfaction. "It's almost poetic, really. They always prided themselves on their iron grip, their unbreakable will. And now, with just a few well-placed moves, they're left scrambling, trying to salvage what little dignity they have left. Ha ha!"

The black-cloaked figure's lips curved into a slight smile, hidden beneath the darkness of his hood. "Your Highness is truly a master of the game. The Sayys won't know what hit them."

"Indeed," Anish said, his voice dripping with confidence. "But remember, the game is never over until the last piece is moved. We must continue to tread carefully, ensure that our moves are subtle yet decisive. The Sayys may be down, but they're not out. Not yet."

The cloaked figure nodded in agreement. "Understood, Your Highness. I'll make the necessary preparations to ensure our plans proceed smoothly."

"Good," Prince Anish replied, his smile finally fading into a more thoughtful expression. "And remember, no matter what happens, we must keep our intentions hidden. The Sayys must never suspect that we were behind this. "

"Let them believe it was mere happenstance, a stroke of misfortune brought about by their own arrogance."

The black-cloaked figure bowed slightly, acknowledging the prince's orders. "As you command, Your Highness."

As the figure turned to leave, Anish's laughter echoed through the room once more, a sound filled with both glee and menace.

The prince knew that the real game was just beginning, and with each passing moment, he grew more confident that the outcome would be in his favor.

The day after the grand Raven Festival, the four friends—Ruchir, Garret, Alice, and Flippy—decided to unwind by meeting up at the Four Road Market inside the capital.

The market, with its vibrant stalls, colorful banners, and the aroma of street food, was a lively place, offering the perfect setting for a relaxing evening.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the evening sky was painted with hues of deep blue and purple, creating an almost serene atmosphere.

Garret and Alice, as usual, were at it with their banter.

Garret, as usual, was full of energy, cracking jokes and making playful jabs at Alice.

"Hey, Alice, maybe you should buy that hat. It'll cover up that 'I'm too serious' face you always wear," Garret teased with a grin, pointing to a flamboyant, oversized hat on display.

Alice rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smirk that tugged at her lips. "Garret, the only thing that hat is good for is hiding your terrible sense of humor."

"And Garret, do you ever stop eating?" Alice teased, watching him devour yet another skewer of grilled meat.

"Not when the food is this good! Besides, I need to keep my strength up.

You never know when we'll be ambushed by another crazed group of cultivators," Garret responded with a grin, bits of meat still stuck to his teeth.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Strength? More like a belly full of excuses."

Ruchir chuckled softly, enjoying the light-hearted exchange.

He took in the sights around him, feeling a rare sense of calm.

Flippy, on the other hand, was already wandering off, his curious eyes darting from one vendor's stall to another, fascinated by everything.

As the group continued their stroll, they suddenly felt a chill in the air—a sharp, almost ominous sensation.

Before any of them could react, a dark figure moved with blinding speed towards them.

Ruchir barely had time to sense the danger before his vision went black, his consciousness slipping away as if someone had pulled the plug on reality.

When Ruchir came to, he found himself sitting in a chair, his hands and legs tightly bound with thick ropes.

A piece of cloth was stuffed into his mouth, gagging him. His head throbbed as he tried to shake off the lingering dizziness.

The room was pitch black, save for the dim glow of a few oil lamps flickering on the walls.

The dim light revealed an unsettling sight—rows of instruments, each designed for a specific and horrifying form of torture. Iron maidens, spiked wheels, racks, and other grotesque devices lined the walls, their menacing forms casting twisted shadows across the room.

Ruchir's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to move his hands, attempting to break free from the restraints.

But to his dismay, he quickly realized that he couldn't access even a sliver of his cultivation.

It felt as though an invisible barrier had severed his connection to his spiritual energy.

Whoever did this is no amateur, he thought, a cold sweat forming on his brow.

Our cultivation has been sealed by an expert. But why?

Garret began to stir beside him, his eyes widening in terror as he took in their predicament.

"Mmmph!" Garret mumbled through his gag, his body trembling.

His mind raced with all sorts of horrific possibilities.

This is it. We're done for.

They're going to pull out our teeth one by one or throw us into one of those torture devices! What if they start with the fingernails?

Oh gods, no, not the fingernails!

Alice, who had also woken up, was visibly shaken but tried to keep herself composed.

She glanced at Ruchir, her eyes filled with fear but also with a resolve to stay calm.

We've been through worse, right? she thought, trying to convince herself. We'll get out of this somehow…

Then there was Flippy. The little guy was awake but seemed entirely unperturbed by their dire situation. Instead of panicking or struggling,

Flippy was curiously looking around the room, his eyes wide with fascination. His gaze lingered on the torture devices, his head tilting to the side as if they were part of some elaborate exhibit in a museum.

Wow, these are pretty cool! Never seen anything like this before. I wonder how they work…

Ruchir, noticing Flippy's nonchalant demeanor, couldn't help but feel a mix of exasperation and confusion.

What on earth is going on in that head of his?

Doesn't he realize we're in serious trouble?

The reality of their situation weighed heavily on Ruchir as he tried to piece together who might be behind this.

Who could have done this? he pondered, his mind racing through the possibilities.

Is it the Prince behind the Blackwood Gang, still bitter over what happened in Blackwood Forest?

Or could it be the Sayy Mansion, for that chest?

Or perhaps it's someone else, some enemy we didn't even know we had…

Every scenario that played out in Ruchir's mind ended in them being used as pawns in some larger, more sinister game.

His thoughts were interrupted by Garret's frantic muffled noises, the big guy clearly losing his nerve.

If only he could calm down for a second…

The room was silent, save for the soft crackle of the oil lamps. Each of them was lost in their thoughts, trying to make sense of what had happened and what might happen next.

Ruchir knew they needed a plan, and fast, but without their cultivation and with no knowledge of who had captured them or why, they were in a far more precarious situation than they had ever been before.

As the minutes dragged on, the oppressive atmosphere of the room seemed to close in on them. We need to find a way out, Ruchir thought, his mind working frantically.

But first, we need to know who we're dealing with…