Chapter 20

There it was—gleaming under the midday sun, one of my latest creations, and I had to admit, it was a piece of art. The spear tip I'd been working on sat perfectly balanced in my hand, its edges honed with lethal precision. What fascinated me most wasn't the sharpness or the weight, though; it was the runes I had managed to inscribe on such a small surface. The design was so compact, so intricate, that even I was a bit surprised at how well it had come together. But the real beauty of the weapon wasn't its craftsmanship—it was the devastating effect it had on stone.

Beside me, resting in my other hand, was a slingshot that looked like something straight out of a child's imagination—a handheld contraption with a firm brace that fit snugly against my wrist. It was almost comical, this toy-like device, if not for the deadly accuracy and destructive force it packed. A simple dot, much like a laser pointer, allowed me to aim with pinpoint precision, and what it launched wasn't just any ordinary projectile. No, the small stone balls I had crafted were covered in runes that could tear through solid rock like parchment.

I was a bit amused at myself, standing there outside the city walls, playing with what looked like a child's toy but wielding the kind of weapon that could turn a battlefield into rubble. I mean, who else would create a rune-infused slingshot with the potential to reduce a stone wall to dust? Only me.

But it was more than a toy, and I wasn't here for amusement. I was here to test. The cliffs in the distance offered the perfect canvas—a jagged, rocky expanse that stood as a silent challenge, daring me to see just how far I could push this latest creation.

The wind rustled gently around me as I approached a small boulder sitting comfortably at the base of the cliffs. My fingers instinctively wrapped around the handle of the slingshot, fitting one of the rune-marked stone balls into the cradle. I pulled the band back, the tension building as the stone sat snugly against the leather pouch. The red dot from the aiming rune flickered across the surface of the boulder, marking my target as clearly as if I'd painted a bullseye.

I took a breath, focusing on the feel of the slingshot, the balance, the tautness of the band. Then, with a quick flick of my wrist, I released.

The stone ball flew through the air at astonishing speed, the runes etched onto its surface humming with barely contained energy. For a second, there was nothing but the soft whistling of the ball in flight, then—

Impact.

The ball hit the boulder with a force that seemed far beyond its small size. I had expected some kind of reaction, but what I saw was something far more impressive. The moment the rune-etched stone made contact, the vibrations began. The runes on the ball hummed, thrumming so violently that the ball seemed to almost sink into the boulder's surface as if it were melting into the stone.

And then, it happened.

The entire surface of the boulder began to vibrate—gently at first, like a ripple in a pond—but soon those vibrations intensified. The sound grew, a deep, resonating hum that made the ground beneath me tremble. The rock, once solid and immovable, started to fracture. Tiny cracks spidered across its surface, spreading from the point of impact like veins. Within moments, the entire boulder seemed to shudder, as if it were being torn apart from the inside. And then, with a violent shattering sound, it disintegrated—dust and debris scattering into the air like sand in a storm.

I blinked, watching the particles settle in disbelief.

It worked. Better than I expected.

"That'll do," I muttered to myself, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. It was almost too easy. The runes weren't just breaking the stone—they were destabilizing it at a molecular level. With the right pressure, the right vibration, anything solid could be turned into dust.

I wasn't done testing, though. The slingshot had done its job, but now it was time for something a little more direct.

I turned my attention to the cliff face in front of me, its surface rugged and pockmarked with natural erosion. This would be the real test—whether my spear tip could do what the slingshot had accomplished, only with more precision.

My fingers brushed over the cool surface of the spear as I approached the cliff, the runes glowing faintly in the daylight, almost as if they knew what was coming. With a steady hand, I reached out, touching the tip of the spear against the rock. For a moment, nothing happened—just the cold weight of the stone beneath my hand.

Then, the runes activated.

The vibrations started low, a barely perceptible hum that ran through the spear and into the rock. But the more I pressed the tip against the surface, the more those vibrations intensified. The stone around the point of contact began to quiver, and just like the boulder before, cracks started to form. They spread outward in all directions, faster this time, more violently, until—

Crack.

The cliff face groaned under the pressure, a deep, guttural sound that echoed through the valley. The vibrations didn't just crack the stone; they ripped it apart. Huge chunks of rock fell away, crumbling into dust, leaving a gaping hole in the cliff where there had once been solid stone. The hole was large enough to walk through—if I felt like wandering into a newly-formed cave, that is.

I stepped back, inspecting the damage with a satisfied nod. This was beyond what I had imagined when I first began working on these weapons. The runes weren't just powerful—they were surgical, precise, able to reduce stone to nothing more than a memory with minimal effort.

And yet, as effective as these new tools were, there was still something unsettling about it. The sheer force, the potential for destruction—it was intoxicating, yes, but dangerous. I was holding something that could reshape battlefields, something that could turn walls into dust with a single touch. And I couldn't help but wonder, what next?

I twirled the spear in my hand, feeling the weight of it, the subtle hum of magic still coursing through its tip. This was the kind of weapon that made you a target. People would want it, they would fear it—and by extension, fear me.

As I looked at the destruction I'd wrought on the cliff face, the excitement of it began to wane, replaced by the cold, calculating thoughts that always followed moments like this. Power was always a double-edged sword. It could protect you, yes, but it could also paint a very large target on your back.

And with someone like Lucius Cassian already pulling strings behind the scenes, I needed to be more careful than ever. He had already shown interest in me, and now I had something that would catch the attention of far more dangerous people.

Still, as I looked at the debris settling around me, a part of me couldn't help but feel the thrill of what I had just achieved. The runes, the vibrations—it was all coming together in ways I hadn't fully anticipated. I was creating something new, something that could change the rules of the game entirely.

As I walked back toward the city—though at this point, calling it a "town" felt like a vast underestimation—the weight of what I had to do gnawed at me, turning over in my mind like a puzzle that refused to fit together cleanly. The road stretched ahead, quiet, with only the occasional flicker of distant torches marking the outer edges of the city walls. Above me, the sky was a deep, bruised purple, the last remnants of daylight giving way to a cold, unforgiving night. Fitting, really. The darkness matched the thoughts swirling through my head.

Severus Calpurnius. The name repeated itself in my mind like a curse. The man who'd challenged me to a duel, publicly humiliated himself, and then had the audacity to try to kill me. Twice now. And I had no doubt that, if I left him to his own devices, he'd try again. Men like Severus didn't just slink away into the shadows after a defeat. No, they festered. They plotted. And Severus was the kind of man who wouldn't rest until his pride was restored—preferably over my dead body.

The more I thought about it, the clearer it became. I had two choices. I could leave, disappear into the shadows of the city, or I could confront him, once and for all. And if I was being honest with myself, there was no running from this. Men like Severus weren't a problem you could walk away from. They were a rot that spread if left unchecked.

And so, I would have to kill him.

There it was—simple, clinical, even. The psychology behind it was straightforward enough. A predator can't leave another predator wounded. You either finish the job, or the wounded one becomes more dangerous, more desperate. The man had tried to kill me twice already. Once with the duel, when he sent that stone monstrosity to do his dirty work, and again with those cursed statues in the alley. I hadn't even given him a reason. He was just one of those men who couldn't bear the idea of losing, especially to someone younger, someone more capable. His pride was too fragile, and fragile pride makes for dangerous enemies.

I adjusted the strap on my leather armor, the one I'd enhanced earlier with runes for protection, agility, and concealment. The soft leather shifted smoothly over my body, the magic woven into it humming faintly against my skin. I wasn't just walking back to the city. No, tonight, I was a predator myself—an anonymous hunter moving through the streets of a city that didn't care about what happened in its shadows. And really, why should it? Power struggles like this happened all the time in the upper echelons. Who cared if one noble fell to another?

As I moved, the streets around me began to shift, the sprawling outskirts of the city slowly giving way to more familiar terrain. The cobbled roads were uneven beneath my boots, and the lanterns hanging from iron hooks barely cut through the growing gloom. The city had its own pulse at night—hushed, conspiratorial. Even in its silence, you could feel the life beneath it, the deals made in whispers, the betrayals hidden behind polite smiles. That was the kind of place this was. The kind of place where men like Severus thrived.

And yet, I didn't belong to this world. Not entirely. That's what made me dangerous to men like him. He couldn't predict me, couldn't fit me neatly into the rules of his little power games. I was an unknown variable, and unknowns terrified people who were used to being in control.

It wasn't like I hadn't killed before. I'd done what was necessary to survive in this world. Self-defense, mostly. This would be no different. And yet, as I considered it, there was a part of me that recognized the cold calculation behind it this time. This wasn't survival. This wasn't some last-ditch effort to save my life. This was a decision. A choice to remove an obstacle before it became too large to handle.

I sighed, pushing the thought away for the moment. I'd wrestled with this enough, and it was time to focus.

Valeria had been more helpful than I expected, giving me the location of Severus's home without even batting an eye. She'd claimed it was a favor, something she owed me after allowing the attack at her party. But there was more to it, of course. There always was with Valeria. She thrived on this—nudging the pieces on the board to see where they would land. I had no doubt she was curious to see how I'd handle Severus. And, if I succeeded, it would benefit her just as much as it benefited me.

The streets of the upper city were quiet at this hour. The rich and powerful, for all their bravado, liked to keep their battles confined to polite dinner parties and private rooms. Rarely did they spill out onto the streets. But here I was, slipping through those very streets, just another figure cloaked in shadow. No one paid me any attention, no one saw the predator stalking his prey.

When I finally reached Severus Calpurnius's residence, I stopped just short of the gate, taking it in. The house was grand, sure, but it wasn't ostentatious in the way many of the other noble homes were. It wasn't trying to scream its owner's importance. Instead, it was the kind of house that whispered power, the kind of place where you knew the man who lived inside had influence but preferred not to flaunt it. At least, not openly.

A two-story structure made of smooth marble with dark windows that gleamed under the faint torchlight, the house sat tucked into the shadow of a larger villa behind it. Not the grandest in the upper city, but grand enough to command respect. It had the look of a place that didn't need to be loud to be feared. Its silence was enough.

I stood for a moment, watching, waiting. There was no movement inside, at least none that I could see from my vantage point. The gates were closed, but not locked. That was interesting. A man like Severus, you'd think he would be more cautious. But maybe that was part of his arrogance, part of his belief that he couldn't be touched. Or maybe he just hadn't expected that his attempted murder might come back to him in such a direct, personal way.

I felt the weight of the spear in my hand, the familiar hum of its runes calming my nerves. My mind was already calculating the next steps, the approach, the entry, the exit. I'd done this kind of thing before, though never with such a clear target. In some twisted way, it felt... right.

As I approached Severus Calpurnius's estate, the sight of the statues in his garden made everything fall into place. Of course. The man had a particular fondness for animated stone constructs. His party trick, if you will. It wasn't just a pompous display of wealth and taste, it was a defense mechanism—an army of stone soldiers ready to come to life at a moment's notice. Severus was predictable in his arrogance, and that made this easier than I expected.

The moment I realized what those statues were for, my hand instinctively brushed over my spear. The familiar weight of it vanished as I absorbed it into my inventory stone, replaced by something more suitable for this particular problem. In its place, the slingshot appeared in my hand, along with the bag of rune-etched stone balls that I had crafted with such care. I felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

I took a deep breath, adjusting the slingshot in my grip. The garden stretched before me, filled with immobile stone figures. But they wouldn't stay that way for long. I aimed at the largest statue, my focus narrowing to the red dot of my aiming rune. It rested perfectly on the stone warrior's chest. A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as I let the first stone ball fly.

The projectile whistled through the air, its runes glowing faintly as it cut a path toward the statue. Before the first ball had even made contact, I was already loading the second, muscle memory taking over. I had trained for this, practiced until it was instinctive. And now, all of that was paying off.

Crack.

The first stone ball hit the statue square in the chest, and the vibrations began immediately. The runes on the ball hummed with power, sending shockwaves through the stone. Before the statue could react—if it even had time to react—it started to crumble from the inside out, the vibrations tearing it apart at a molecular level.

I didn't wait to see the results. The second ball was already on its way, this time aimed at another statue, then the third, and the fourth. Each one hit with precise, devastating accuracy. The statues didn't stand a chance. Stone warriors, once towering over the garden with menacing elegance, disintegrated one by one, reduced to dust and rubble.

The sound of stone crumbling filled the night, but I wasn't finished. I shifted my focus to the estate itself. The walls of Severus's home were thick, solid stone, built to project strength and permanence. But nothing is permanent. Not when you have the right tools.

I aimed at the nearest wall, sending a stone ball hurtling toward it. The impact was immediate, the vibrations spreading through the stone like wildfire. The wall shuddered, cracks forming along its surface, widening with each passing second. I loaded another ball and fired, this time aiming at the base of a column that supported the roof. The column cracked, then buckled, and a section of the roof collapsed with a thunderous roar.

Pieces of the house began to fall, stone crumbling under the relentless assault of my rune-infused projectiles. Each shot was a precise blow to Severus's carefully constructed fortress, and it wasn't long before large sections of the estate were collapsing in on themselves. Dust rose in clouds, filling the night air, and the sound of destruction was deafening.

The house was coming down, piece by piece.

And then, right on cue, Severus Calpurnius burst from the front door, his face twisted in a mixture of fury and panic. He looked around wildly, as though he couldn't believe what was happening. The man had the audacity to believe that his fortress—his precious statues, his walls of stone—could keep him safe. He had underestimated me from the start, and now he was paying for it.

I took aim again, the red dot of the aiming rune resting squarely on his chest. His eyes locked onto mine for a split second, the fear in them unmistakable. He knew what was coming, but it was far too late for him to stop it.

The stone ball flew from my slingshot, cutting through the chaos of dust and falling debris. It hit him directly in the chest, and just like the statues before him, Severus Calpurnius began to fall apart. The vibrations from the runes rippled through his body, and within seconds, he was gone. Nothing left but dust and the faint echo of his scream.

I didn't wait for the dust to settle. I had no desire to linger in the ruins of Severus's arrogance. The job was done, and there was no point in staying any longer. I turned and made my way back through the city streets, moving swiftly but carefully, blending into the shadows as just another anonymous figure. No one paid me any attention, just as I had planned.

Valeria's estate was only a short walk away, and by the time I arrived, the adrenaline from the night's events had already begun to fade. The guards at her gate didn't blink as I approached, simply nodding as they stepped aside to let me pass. They knew better than to question my presence.

I entered the grand estate, the opulence of it a sharp contrast to the destruction I had just left behind. Valeria, of course, was waiting for me, seated calmly at a table in her lavish garden, a cup of tea in hand. She looked up as I approached, her eyes sharp but amused, as though this entire night had unfolded exactly as she had anticipated.

Without a word, I slipped out of my enhanced leather armor, leaving it behind as I donned the rich clothing she had prepared for me. It was part of the game, after all—one must always look the part.

I sat down across from her, the scent of tea filling the air. She gave me a slow nod, her lips curling into a small, satisfied smile. "I see you've handled things," she said, her tone light, almost casual, as if we were discussing nothing more important than the weather.

I lifted the tea to my lips, savoring the warmth and calm that it brought. The night had been long, but the job was done. "Handled," I replied simply, matching her tone.

Valeria's eyes gleamed with approval. "Good. Severus was a nuisance. I'll sleep better knowing he's... no longer an issue."

She didn't need to say more. We both understood the game we were playing, and tonight had been just another move on the board. Severus had made his play, and now he was gone.

I took another sip of tea, feeling the tension drain from my muscles. For now, the night was calm, the city quiet.

It must have been an hour later when the inevitable happened—officials from the city arrived at Valeria's estate. They were the kind of men who carried the weight of their titles more than the responsibilities that came with them. As they approached, their expressions were a mix of boredom and reluctance, the kind you see when someone's been told to handle a task they'd rather avoid. To them, this was just another box to tick on their nightly duties—a nuisance, nothing more.

They stood before Valeria and me, their postures stiff but their gazes flickering with thinly veiled discomfort. I could tell right away they weren't here to actually investigate, just to be seen doing so. Appearances had to be maintained, after all. Someone had to ask the questions, even if no one cared about the answers.

The lead official, a man with tired eyes and the air of someone who'd been at this job far too long, cleared his throat. "We understand there was an... incident tonight," he began, his voice flat, as though he were reading from a script. "An attack on one Severus Calpurnius's estate. We've come to inquire about your whereabouts at the time of the... destruction."

The pause in his sentence suggested he didn't care one way or another. He just needed to fill in the blanks so he could leave and return to something far more interesting—like not being here.

Valeria didn't even blink. With a serene smile that could have put the gods at ease, she spoke before I could. "David has been with me all evening," she said smoothly, her voice like silk. She didn't even need to put any extra effort into her words. She knew exactly how to handle men like this. "We've been enjoying a quiet conversation over tea. Isn't that right, David?"

I caught the official's eye, noting the flicker of relief that crossed his face at the mere mention of Valeria's name. I nodded, my expression neutral, though inwardly I was amused. "That's right," I said. "I haven't left her side. If something happened to Severus, I wouldn't know."

The official exhaled, a slight smile tugging at his lips as though he'd just dodged a rather unpleasant task. He scribbled something down on his parchment—likely nothing more than a few meaningless notes—and then snapped it shut with finality. "Very well. That will be all," he said, his tone almost too eager to end this interaction.

They couldn't have left faster if they'd tried. The moment they were out of earshot, I turned back to Valeria, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, that was... painless," I said, watching as she sipped her tea with the grace of someone who had just dealt with a minor inconvenience.

She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're welcome," she said, her lips curving into a faint smile. "People like them have no desire to dig too deeply. They know better than to question me." There was no arrogance in her tone, just the simple acknowledgment of how things worked in this city. Power spoke in whispers, not accusations.

I couldn't help but laugh under my breath. She wasn't wrong.

But as much as I appreciated her help, I wasn't naive enough to think this was purely out of the kindness of her heart. Valeria always had her reasons, her plans spinning like a web around the city. Keeping me safe from prying eyes, keeping me close—it all fit into her larger scheme. And I couldn't deny the fact that it benefited me too.

Still, I knew better than to linger. Valeria's estate, with its opulence and calm, had an allure, yes. But it also had a way of pulling you in deeper than you intended. And I wasn't about to get caught in that.

I stood, offering her a smile that matched the tone of our evening. "Thank you, Valeria. For everything. But I think it's time I took my leave."

Her expression didn't change, but there was a brief flicker in her eyes, something subtle that suggested she wasn't entirely pleased with my decision to go. "So soon?" she asked, her voice soft, almost teasing. "You could stay, you know. I enjoy our conversations."

And there it was—the faint suggestion of something more, wrapped in the elegance of her words. She was good, better than most, at making you question your own intentions.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Tempting as that offer is, I think I've had enough excitement for one night."

She sighed, a little dramatically, as if my refusal was a mild disappointment in an otherwise perfect evening. "Very well," she said, rising gracefully from her chair. "But do be careful, David. The city may have its charms, but it also has its dangers."

Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary, and I knew that our little game was far from over. But for now, it was time to step away from her orbit and return to something a little more grounded.

With a final nod, I turned and made my way out of her estate, the cool night air a welcome change from the opulence of her garden. The guards at the gate gave me a brief nod of acknowledgment, their faces expressionless as they opened the wrought iron gate and let me pass.

I should have headed back to the inn, I knew that. After everything that had happened tonight, a warm bed and a locked door sounded like a perfect way to end the evening. But something in me couldn't shake the feeling that the inn wouldn't be enough. Not tonight. Not after Severus's estate had crumbled to dust and the city officials had been placated with hollow words.

No, tonight I needed something more secure.

And so, instead of the inn, I found my feet taking me in a different direction—toward the workshop. The place I had fortified with layers upon layers of protection, runes etched into every surface. It was more than just a workspace; it was a sanctuary, a place where I knew I could control every inch of my surroundings. After the night I'd had, it felt like the only place I could truly rest.

The streets were quiet as I walked, the faint glow of magical lights flickering along the main roads, casting long shadows that danced along the cobbled paths. The city was asleep, or at least pretending to be. But I knew better. Just because you couldn't see the eyes watching you didn't mean they weren't there. This city was full of secrets, full of people who thrived in the darkness, just as Severus had.

But tonight, Severus Calpurnius was no longer one of those people. And yet, the feeling of being hunted hadn't left me. Maybe it was the residual adrenaline, or maybe it was just the reality of the world I now inhabited. Either way, I wasn't taking any chances.

By the time I reached the workshop, the tension in my muscles had begun to fade, replaced by the steady hum of familiarity. The exterior of the building was unremarkable, blending into the city like a forgotten corner of a larger, grander puzzle. But the inside was a different story.

As I stepped through the door of my workshop, the air around me shifted, the runes I had placed on every surface humming to life, recognizing me as their master. The layers of protection wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and I could feel the tension in my body start to ease. Here, I was safe. Here, I was in control.

I set down my bag, the weight of the night's events finally catching up with me. The workshop was quiet, save for the faint crackle of magical energy that pulsed through the runes on the walls. It wasn't the luxury of Valeria's estate, but it was mine. And tonight, that was enough.

With a deep breath, I sank into the chair at my workbench, letting my mind drift for a moment.

The city may have its dangers, its twisted politics and hidden threats, but I was learning how to navigate it. And if tonight had taught me anything, it was that I wasn't as alone as I thought. There were people who wanted to pull me into their webs, people like Valeria. But there were also those who wanted me dead. Severus had made that abundantly clear. And now, there would be others.

But for now, I had the workshop. I had my runes. And for tonight, that was all I needed.

I closed my eyes, letting the hum of the magic around me lull me into a deep, dreamless sleep.