Children's Energy

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Warning

The following novel contains material that may be harmful or traumatic to some readers.It contains graphic descriptions of murder, violence, and other unpleasant text.

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* images in "Characters" section are AI Generated Images and serve as inspiration and may not fully represent the author's vision. *

For a better experience, I recommend opening the Characters section so you can visualize the character as accurately as possible. The descriptions here will not be very detailed.

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Ekpesu's Canals, Ekpesu

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A 4 Hours Ago

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As Ashen struggles to understand Natural Energy according to Ereboreth's instructions, Ereboreth intercepts a message from Synn.

Synn and Ereboreth move through the sewers—dark, foul-smelling, but essential to Gideon's empire. The walls are damp, something splashes beneath their steps. The thick, heavy air clings to their skin.

Synn follows a few steps behind Ereboreth.

Something about him feels… off.

His aura is strange. Cold. Quiet. Unpredictable.

Whenever she gets the chance, she watches him from the corner of her eye.

She can't help it.

She feels trapped beside him.

And worse—Gideon needs him for something that could put them all in danger.

"Is something wrong, Lady Synn?"

Ereboreth's voice cuts through the oppressive silence.

Of course he noticed her staring.

Synn quickly looks away, focusing on the path ahead.

"Nothing."

She answers curtly, but a question gnaws at her like a relentless worm.

They walk in silence for a while before she finally dares to speak.

"Are you seriously planning again to doing a business with Gideon?"

Her voice is testing. Maybe even accusatory.

She's probing his loyalty.

Any normal person would never do business again with him.

Ereboreth's eyebrow lifts slightly.

His response comes without hesitation, without emotion.

"I have yet to be offered anything."

Synn's jaw tightens.

"I think you already know why he wants to meet with you again…"

She suddenly stops and turns to face him.

The shadows on the walls stir restlessly.

"For the good of all, the right choice would be… to refuse."

Her words are calm, but beneath them lies a warning.

Perhaps even a threat.

Ereboreth watches her—then smiles.

"For the good of all, the right choice would be… not to be late to see Mr. Gideon, am I wrong?"

His voice is silken, yet deadly.

Synn studies him for a moment.

That smile.

It doesn't feel human.

"I don't know where you come from, or what you're planning. But whatever it is… it can't be good."

She steps closer, her eyes narrowing.

"No matter how hard I tried… I couldn't find a single thing about you."

"That tells me you are a threat."

Ereboreth chuckles, amused.

"You tried to dig up information about me?"

A quiet, chilling laugh escapes his lips.

"How unpleasant, Lady Synn… And here I thought we were on the same page."

Synn hesitates.

"The same… page?"

She repeats, suspiciously.

Ereboreth nods.

"You don't like Gideon. That's obvious."

"And you don't have the courage to go against him. Like me..."

His voice is smooth, his words calm, but there's something sharper in his eyes.

"But that doesn't mean I should lose a profitable deal just because of our grudge."

Synn clenches her fists.

"You don't understand. What Gideon did has drawn the attention of the entire city!"

"They'll start investigating. They'll try to uncover how one treacherous, pathetic little swine managed to obtain such a powerful and dangerous weapon."

Her voice rises, frustration boiling.

"They'll try to find out about YOU. And they'll link it to ME!"

Ereboreth, however, remains calm.

"If even you failed to find anything about me…"

His smile lingers, but his eyes darken.

"Then Ulbridge and the others have no chance."

"And as for them linking it to you?

"That's not my problem."

Suddenly, his smile vanishes.

His expression hardens.

"I suggest you stay out of my business."

"Otherwise, Ulbridge won't be the only thing…

"You should be afraid of."

The words are quiet.

But they cut like steel.

The atmosphere shifts—the air in the sewers turns thick, suffocating.

Synn feels it.

His presence.

His face.

Everything about him unnerves her.

But then, as if nothing had happened, Ereboreth smiles again.

"I think I can find him myself now. Thank you for your help."

And with that, he turns and continues down the dark tunnels—alone.

Synn watches him go.

She inhales sharply.

Her breath is uneven, unsteady.

Then she realizes—

Her hands are shaking.

She doesn't wait.

She turns.

And she rushes away.

Away from the sewers.

Away from him.

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A few moments later

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Ereboreth approaches a massive chamber, teeming with Gideon's men.

The guards at the entrance are on high alert, their eyes darting around the area. Steel blades glisten under the dim torchlight. These men do not take their job lightly.

As Ereboreth nears, several of them straighten, gripping their weapons tighter.

"Halt!"

One of the guards commands, his voice rough and uncompromising.

Ereboreth stops.

Calm.

Another guard sizes him up, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his dagger.

"You should turn around and fuck off."

"This is Lord Voss's territory. He doesn't tolerate beggars or any other kind of scum."

Ereboreth looks at him, the corners of his mouth curling into an amused smile.

"Your lord is expecting me."

"Ereboreth is my name."

The guards exchange surprised glances.

For a moment, the air between them thickens.

Then, almost reluctantly, they step aside, clearing his path.

Without haste, Ereboreth steps inside the vast chamber.

The sewers intertwine here, forming a chaotic labyrinth.

The walls are damp, the air heavy with an overpowering stench.

This is the heart of Gideon's business.

The business of Vulturism.

Children in chains.

Cages, stacked like garbage.

Some of the children cry.

Some lie motionless on the ground, too weak to make a sound.

The stench of despair is almost tangible.

Gideon stands near a row of children, a piece of parchment in hand, scribbling something as he assesses each one.

He is sorting them.

"Age?!"

His voice shatters the damp air like a whip.

A small boy flinches.

His eyes are swollen from crying, his face trembling.

His voice barely escapes his lips, a whisper—

"Tw-Twelve."

He doesn't even have time to swallow his sob before one of the guards grabs him by his frail body and hurls him into a cage without an ounce of care.

The iron bars clatter.

Ereboreth notices the signs.

"Age 10–12" is scrawled across one of them.

There are others.

Each marks a different age group.

Before Gideon can turn to the next child, something distracts him.

A sudden awareness that someone has entered the room.

Someone he's been waiting for.

He turns.

His gaze lands on Ereboreth.

For a second, his entire body stiffens.

Then, his thick lips stretch into a disgustingly gleeful smile.

Gideon lights up like a child receiving a new toy.

He shoves the parchment into a guard's hands.

"Take over!"

His high-pitched, repulsive voice echoes through the chamber.

Then, with awkward eagerness, he rushes toward Ereboreth.

"Mr. Ereboreth!"

He practically squeals in delight.

His massive frame lumbers forward, moving with an unsettling mix of speed and clumsiness.

His fat quivers with each step.

As soon as he reaches Ereboreth, he spreads his arms wide in an exaggeratedly warm gesture.

"I apologize that our meeting must take place in the heart of my… empire!"

His grin is stretched so wide, it's almost grotesque.

He extends a hand.

Expecting a handshake.

Ereboreth merely observes it.

He does not take it.

He simply smiles again, ever so slightly, his gaze boring into Gideon's eyes.

"That is of no concern, Mr. Voss."

"I respect that you have… far too much work to do."

His words are smooth, almost courteous.

But beneath them…

Something else lurks.

Gideon notices the unshaken handshake.

It doesn't offend him much, but for a fleeting second, something in his expression shifts.

Perhaps a wounded ego.

Perhaps something deeper.

But then, he quickly buries it.

Ereboreth's gaze drifts over the cages and the children inside.

One glance.

And yet, Gideon senses something strange.

Not disgust.

Not pity.

But something else.

Curiosity, perhaps.

"Well, well… could it be that you're interested in something from my trade?"

Gideon grins, baring his rotting, yellowed teeth.

Ereboreth meets his gaze, his expression unchanging.

"I'm simply fascinated by your system. You are… meticulous."

The words are deliberate.

Praise.

Gideon devours it like a starving dog.

He chuckles, his belly shaking.

"You see, Vulturism is a gift. It cannot be taught, and that is why we must cherish it… and nurture it."

He gestures toward a wooden table nearby.

"Come, have a seat…"

Ereboreth nods, sitting across from him without hesitation.

Gideon leans forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"So, Mr. Ereboreth… your Devil's Powder…"

"Unique… perfect… simply exquisite."

Then he snickers again, this time with raw delight.

"Alandr just stared, slack-jawed, and even from here, I could feel his fear…"

Ereboreth inclines his head.

"I hope my product did not disappoint. I can now reveal that during our first meeting, you were… rather skeptical and cautious."

Gideon smirks, linking his hands together as he dramatically nods.

"Naturally. A man in my position must be careful about whom he deals with. And you were… very new. An unknown name on my list."

Then, his grin widens into a grotesque display of gleeful malice.

"But now I know that my concerns were completely… ERASED!"

Gideon bursts into laughter.

A repulsive, snorting, pig-like laughter that reverberates through the chamber.

…

Then, abruptly, his voice changes.

The laughter is severed by a sudden sharp seriousness.

His eyes gleam with hunger.

"But let's get to business, Mr. Ereboreth.

"Could you procure… a larger quantity?"

Ereboreth doesn't even blink.

"How much are we talking?"

A swift, precise response.

Gideon likes that.

No questions.

No concerns.

Just business.

Gideon leans in.

"Four times what you supplied me last time."

For a split second, Ereboreth raises an eyebrow.

"That much? I see my product has truly enchanted you."

He lets out a mildly amused chuckle.

Gideon smirks.

"Please, Mr. Voss… I could get you even more. But as they say in our business…"

"With appetite, the price rises."

Gideon's beady eyes narrow.

"How much?"

Ereboreth leans back comfortably.

He pauses, or at least pretends to.

In truth, he already knows the price.

"Since you've developed such a taste for my goods, I'm willing to offer you a discount.

With one condition…"

His tone is calm, measured.

Gideon tilts his head slightly.

Interesting.

Ereboreth smiles faintly.

"I want one child from your stock.

And 2,500 Angelic Tolars."

A tempting offer.

But Gideon isn't the type to accept without negotiation.

He clicks his tongue.

"1,500 Tolars. And two children."

Ereboreth smirks, shaking his head.

"And who would take care of them?"

His tone is mocking.

They both laugh.

Merchants.

Each knowing the game they play.

Then, Ereboreth's amusement fades.

His gaze grows serious.

"Honestly, one child will suffice, and I'll lower the price to 2,000 Talers."

"However…"

He meets Gideon's gaze.

"There is… one more thing I want from you."

Gideon studies him for a moment.

"What exactly?"

Then, something in his expression clicks.

Aaaah… he knows.

He blinks, tilts his head back, and sighs.

"Apologies, my mind has been slipping a little lately."

He taps his fat fingers against his bulging chin.

"Last time, you asked about that place… Gigantomortua, if I'm not mistaken?"

Ereboreth slowly nods.

"That's right. You didn't have the information then. So, I'm asking now…"

Gideon remains silent for a moment.

Scanning him.

But reading Ereboreth? That's a different game.

He can manipulate people, yes, but this man?

It's like staring into an impenetrable fog.

At last, Gideon smirks.

"I must admit, even though I had no intention of meeting with you again… for my own safety, of course… I still pulled a few strings. Just in case."

His grin stretches wider, revealing those rotting teeth.

"After all, I am a meticulous man."

Ereboreth nods.

"If you have those answers… you've made me very happy. So much so that I'm willing to drop the price to 1,500 Talers.

One child.

And information on Gigantomortua."

Gideon's expression twitches.

Not with disgust.

Not with displeasure.

But with the realization that, once again, Ereboreth has gotten exactly what he wanted.

…

Gideon's eyes gleam.

With a single look at Ereboreth, he knows those answers must hold enormous value.

But his greed demands more.

He has to squeeze this deal further.

"I see… But let's be honest. Acquiring that information cost me quite a bit."

He tilts his head.

"If it were truly valuable, I'd take your offer immediately."

A subtle push.

A small manipulation.

A little pressure.

Perhaps Ereboreth will budge a bit more.

Ereboreth pauses, as if considering it.

Then, he nods.

"Tell you what…"

His voice is calm. Precise.

"I know our business together won't end here. So, I'll make you a better deal. We stick to my offer… and in our next transaction, I'll give you an additional discount."

"And maybe… a little something extra. On the house."

Gideon can feel it.

This deal has been laid at his feet—tempting, irresistible, nearly perfect.

Ereboreth smiles slightly.

"Don't forget, I don't just deal in Powder."

Gideon ponders.

Of course, he had already anticipated that this wouldn't be their last business arrangement.

But could Ereboreth possess other… exclusive goods?

The thought intrigues him.

Yet, something still bothers him.

Why?

Why Gigantomortua?

"You know…"

His voice slows.

"I don't like prying. It's not my style."

"But Gigantomortua… something about it doesn't sit right with me, Mr. Ereboreth."

Gideon's eyes sharpen.

This isn't just a question.

It's a trap.

Waiting.

Will Ereboreth step into it?

Ereboreth meets his gaze.

Unmoving.

As if he had anticipated this moment.

"Can I really know why you wanted those answers?"

Gideon leans in slightly.

"Because to me, it seems like you were testing me. Testing my abilities. And honestly… that makes sense."

His voice drops lower.

"I believe you have plenty of contacts across the continent who could've give you that information."

"But you wanted it from me."

A perfect deduction.

He figured it out faster than Ereboreth expected.

Ereboreth watches him.

He has to admit—Gideon's perception is… unusual.

Now, he is about to step onto thin ice.

After a brief silence, he finally speaks.

"I won't lie to you…"

"Some time ago, I paid a visit to Lord Ulbridge."

Silence.

Gideon freezes. His eyes widen. His shoulders tighten.

For a brief moment, he's ready to kill.

But Ereboreth continues.

"You don't need to worry, Mr. Voss. It's true that at the time, you were nothing more than just another repulsive rat, festering in the Ghetto where you rightfully belong."

A strike. A direct hit.

Rage begins to boil inside Gideon. His fists clench, his face contorts slightly.

If Ereboreth wanted to poke the fire, he's done so perfectly.

"I wanted to offer your head… your life… to Lord Ulbridge."

Ereboreth pauses.

He watches Gideon. Waits.

The fat man is ready to tear him apart. Right here. Right now.

The tension rises.

And then—

"But I was completely, utterly mistaken."

A twist.

Gideon blinks, confused.

"Lord Ulbridge struck me from the beginning as a weak, egotistical maniac wielding far too much power."

Gideon blinks again.

The anger is still there, but something in those words makes him listen.

Ereboreth continues—smooth... every word aimed with deadly accuracy.

"He acted rashly, impulsively. He didn't think like a lord… he behaved like a spoiled brat, unable to accept that someone in his own city was more capable than him."

Honey.

Pure, golden honey— and Gideon swallows it greedily.

Ereboreth narrows his eyes.

"In fact, he even infuriated me… because he did not believe in my abilities."

Gideon's attention is fully locked on him now.

"You see, when someone insults me personally… it doesn't enrage me nearly as much as when someone insults my skills. My craft. My hard work—work that, more than once, almost cost me my own life."

Ereboreth leans in slightly.

"Work that forced me to sacrifice the chance for a family, forced me to act in the interest of something greater."

Words that cut deep.

Because Gideon understands.

It's his story too.

His own journey.

Ereboreth leans back, delivering another words.

"In the end, despite his arrogance, I agreed. I agreed to capture you myself… and hand you over to him."

Ereboreth reclines in his chair, his gaze turning distant.

"And now today, through Lady Synn, you reached out to me again… and it left me with doubt."

His voice is softer now. Thoughtful.

"Did I make the right decision? Did I truly make the right choice?"

And then—his expression changes.

Sadness.

Gideon narrows his eyes slightly.

What the fuck does he mean by that?

And then—

Something Gideon never expected.

"After today… the answer is no. I did not."

Gideon freezes.

"Not only did I betray you…"

"I betrayed myself."

The words fall into the silence like heavy stones.

Gideon stares at him. But he says nothing. He lets him speak.

Ereboreth runs a hand over his face and sighs softly. "I helped… a bastard who doesn't even understand the values we uphold. The struggle we fought every single day just to carve out what was ours… and then some pompous little shit—"

Rage flares in his eyes.

"Who was lucky enough to be born into nobility and handed power on a silver platter? How can such a vile, slimy brat dare to insult my— my skills?!'"

Gideon feels the anger. Raw. Real.

This hatred isn't an act.

Ereboreth exhales slowly. The rage doesn't fade. It cools, turning into a controlled, precise malice.

Then—his eyes lock onto Gideon's.

"Mr. Voss… I offer you my personal apologies."

"For my own blindness. Because it led me here."

"But as a gesture of that apology, perhaps you'd be willing to hear a proposal I have for you?"

Gideon watches him. Serious. Calculating.

Can he trust him? Should he?

He's never been in a situation quite like this.

Logic tells him one thing—no one would be reckless enough to confess something like this to the very man they had planned to betray.

No one would be that bold.

Or that foolish.

Gideon's fingers tap lightly against the table.

Ereboreth's goods—and future trades—would serve him well.

When the time comes, when he takes the throne of this city, he'll need someone like Ereboreth.

Finally—he smiles.

"So… what kind of offer could possibly satisfy… a dead man?"

His laugh is quiet. Disgusting. Pig-like.

Ereboreth smiles back.

"I offer you the Powder… for 1500 Tolars. In return, you will give me one child, the information I seek…"

…

"And as a personal gift what i will give you... entirely free of charge—"

…

"That little fucking prick..."

"Alandr Ulbridge."

To be Continued...

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