Chapter 22: The Hunter's Farewell

A week had passed since Al Mussad's orders. Adi, his mind filled with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, prepared for his departure. He packed his belongings, his new gun, his ammunition, his supplies. He was ready to face the darkness, to hunt the masked man, to bring justice to the kingdom.

Al Mussad, his face a mixture of concern and pride, knocked on Adi's door.

"What are you still doing here?" Al Mussad asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "There's a party downstairs. It's for your farewell."

Adi, his eyes widening in surprise, stood up and walked towards the window. He looked out, his gaze sweeping over the courtyard, where a lively gathering had assembled. People were drinking, singing, laughing, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames of a bonfire.

"Let's go," Al Mussad said, his hand resting on Adi's shoulder.

They descended the stairs, joining the throng of Niziari members. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat, the sounds of laughter and music, the warmth of camaraderie. Stories were shared, songs were sung, and the mood was perfect.

Hadid, the Supreme Master, approached Adi, his eyes gleaming with a hint of admiration.

"Thank you," Hadid said, his voice a low rumble. "Without you, my vision wouldn't have come to fruition."

He handed Adi a box, its surface intricately carved, its contents a mystery. Adi opened the box, revealing a gun, its design elegant, its colors lighter than his first gun.

"Thank you, Master," Adi said, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and respect. "I'll use this."

One by one, the craftsmen approached Adi, each presenting him with a gift. But the gifts that touched him the most were the holsters and the bullet belt, designed to be hidden, a testament to their understanding of his mission.

"Thank you, everyone," Adi said, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and emotion.

Al Mussad, his face a mixture of pride and concern, stepped forward. He presented Adi with a ring, its surface engraved with a symbol of authority, a symbol of power. It was a symbol of his new rank, a Master Executioner, the same rank as Nita.

Adi, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and responsibility, accepted the ring. He was ready. He was a Niziari now, a warrior, a hunter, a protector. He was ready to face the darkness, to bring justice to the kingdom.

He mounted his horse, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his mind filled with a mixture of anticipation and determination. The journey ahead would be long and arduous, taking months, the same as the journey back to Niziari. He was heading to the kingdom of Sipiana, the kingdom that had enslaved him, the kingdom that had taught him, the kingdom that had tried to kill him.

The journey back to Marid was long and arduous, filled with the memories of his past, the pain of his enslavement, the anger simmering beneath the surface. But as he rode into the city, a wave of relief washed over him. He was home.

Nita and the other Niziari members greeted him like a brother returning from a long journey. They were amused by the advancements in weapons he brought with him, their faces filled with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.

That night, Nita found him on the balcony of the Niziari headquarters, the city lights twinkling in the distance.

"So, what's your mission now, Master Executioner?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Adi smiled, a hint of pride in his voice. "There are seven enemies we need to cut. Six of them are nobles in different cities in the kingdom."

Nita reached out, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "Adi," she said, her voice soft, her eyes filled with concern. "The night is young. Go rest. I'll take care of the rest."

She released a pigeon into the night sky, its wings beating silently against the darkness. It was a message, a call to action, a directive to every Niziari branch in the kingdom. They were to gather specific details of the targets, their routines, their habits, their weaknesses.

The next morning, Nita rushed into Adi's room, finding him meditating, his mind calm, his body relaxed.

"You're in luck," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and urgency. "Your target in the city of Valen, Count Delerio, is a hunting enthusiast. Every third day, he hunts with his friends and guards."

Adi's eyes narrowed, a familiar rage flaring within him. He remembered the face of Count Delerio, the cruel laughter that echoed through the halls of his master's mansion, the cold indifference as Vinzenso, his master, lay dying.

Delerio was a madman, a spoiled, rotten man who executed anyone he didn't like. People turned a blind eye to his cruelty, blinded by his power as a Count. But Adi knew where Delerio's life ended. He knew where his reign of terror would come to an end. He knew where justice would be served.