Chapter 11: Fire and Ash

The city of Velmire was no longer the same.

What had once been a den of criminals ruled by fear had now become a war zone. The battle between Gorran's enforcers and the Phantom's rebellion had transformed the slums into a place of constant bloodshed. Every dark alley could be a trap, every whisper could be a death sentence, and no one—not even Gorran himself—could predict what would happen next.

But in war, one thing was certain: escalation was inevitable.

And Aedric was ready for it.

Gorran's forces were tightening their grip on the streets. Patrols doubled. Checkpoints were set up at every major intersection in the slums, and mercenaries were brought in from outside the city to reinforce his men.

Anyone suspected of siding with the Phantom was dragged from their homes and executed.

But despite the brutality, Gorran's control was slipping.

For every person he killed, two more rose against him. The people of the slums had lived under his rule for too long, watching as he crushed anyone who stood in his way.

But now? Now they had hope.

The Phantom wasn't just fighting for power. He was fighting for them.

And that made him far more dangerous than any gang leader.

Aedric sat in the Nightfangs' hideout, studying a map of Velmire with Lirian and her best thieves. A candle flickered on the table, casting shadows across the parchment.

"We need to strike somewhere big," Aedric murmured. "Something that will force Gorran to act."

Lirian leaned forward, tracing a dagger along the map. "We've already cut into his smuggling routes. We've killed his men. But if we really want to draw him out, we need to hurt his wallet."

Aedric's eyes flickered with understanding. "His gold vaults."

Lirian grinned. "Exactly."

Gorran was many things—ruthless, powerful, dangerous. But above all else, he was greedy. His empire ran on coin, and without it, he would be vulnerable.

Aedric nodded. "Then we take his wealth."

Gorran's vaults were hidden beneath the Silken Chain, a high-class brothel in the center of the slums. It was one of the few places where criminals, nobles, and mercenaries mingled in secret.

It was also one of the most heavily guarded locations in Velmire.

Breaking in wouldn't be easy.

But Aedric wasn't planning on breaking in.

He was planning on walking in like he owned the place.

Aedric and Lirian entered the Silken Chain under the cover of night. Lirian was dressed in the flowing silks of a noblewoman, her usual dagger hidden beneath her elegant robes. Aedric, in contrast, wore the dark attire of a wealthy merchant, his golden eyes concealed behind a hood.

The brothel was alive with music and laughter, but beneath the surface, tension filled the air.

Gorran's men were everywhere.

Aedric's heartbeat remained steady as they approached the main floor, where wealthy patrons reclined on velvet couches, sipping golden wine.

A well-dressed man stepped forward, eyeing them suspiciously. "I don't recognize you," he said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Lirian smiled, her voice smooth as silk. "That's because we're new. And we have business with Gorran."

The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded toward the upper floors. "He's expecting no one tonight," he said. "State your business."

Aedric's lips curled into a smirk. "It's about his gold."

The moment the words left his mouth, the room fell silent.

The guards stiffened. The tension thickened.

And then, before anyone could react—

The lights went out.

The moment darkness consumed the room, Aedric moved.

He reached inside himself, calling upon the strange power that had awakened within him ever since that night in the ruins. Shadows coiled around him like living things, bending to his will.

The first guard barely had time to react before Aedric was on him. A dagger flashed. A gurgled cry.

By the time the candles flickered back to life, three of Gorran's men were already dead.

The Silken Chain erupted into chaos.

Lirian danced through the fight, her daggers flashing in the dim light, slashing throats and severing tendons. The Nightfangs, hidden among the guests, sprang into action, turning what should have been a secure location into a battlefield.

Aedric had no interest in a prolonged fight.

His focus was on the vaults.

Aedric and Lirian burst into the lower levels of the brothel, where a massive iron door blocked their path. It was reinforced with mana-infused metal, nearly impossible to break through with normal means.

But Aedric was far from normal.

He stepped forward, pressing his palm against the door. He could feel the enchantments woven into the metal, pulsing like a heartbeat.

He closed his eyes.

And willed them to shatter.

The mana reacted violently, resisting for a moment before collapsing under the sheer weight of Aedric's will. The iron groaned and twisted, cracking apart like fragile glass.

The vault was open.

And inside?

More gold and treasure than Aedric had ever seen in his life.

Lirian let out a low whistle. "Well, Phantom, I have to say… you don't think small."

Aedric didn't waste time. He grabbed several pouches of gold and lit a torch.

"We're not here to steal it all," he said. "We're here to destroy it."

Lirian's eyes widened with excitement. "Oh, I like this plan."

Moments later, flames erupted within the vault. Gold melted. Treasures burned. The very foundation of Gorran's wealth was turning to ash.

By the time the first wave of reinforcements arrived, Aedric and Lirian were already gone, slipping back into the night like ghosts.

But the message they left behind was loud and clear.

---

"Your gold is gone. Your men are dying. Your rule is ending."

"-The Phantom"

The Aftermath

By sunrise, the entire criminal underworld of Velmire was in an uproar.

Gorran's greatest vault had been burned to the ground. His golden empire—the very thing that had allowed him to hold power for so long—was crippled.

This wasn't just an act of defiance.

This was war.

And for the first time in years…

Gorran was afraid.