Picking up the golden masquerade mask that would conceal his face, he grinned to himself. Tonight was the night that he would infiltrate the underground auction. His information network had picked up rumors of something called Dragon's Blood on the list of items being auctioned.
“Stop grinning, it’s giving me shivers,” Conrad said, an exaggerated grimace on his face.
Feeling his face turn red, Lord Leora coughed and put on his mask, hiding his face.
“This is the proper outfit that someone who is going to the underground auction wears,” he informed his brother, standing up straight and telling himself that he didn’t mind his brother's taunts.
“I know. I told you,” Conrad replied, straightening his outfit and walking to the mirror that Lord Leora was using. “But is the information about Dragon’s Blood reliable?” Picking up his mask, he studied it.
“The information about something called Dragon's Blood is good, but we don't know what it is. For all we know, it’s a concoction created by an alchemist,” Lord Leora said, walking to the door and opening it. “Still, we have no choice but to track down every lead that we can find. Are you coming?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Conrad sighed, following him.
Making their way outside, the two brothers climbed into a small wooden carriage. The wooden carriage had been modified, stripped of all identifying details, and painted black. This way, no one would recognize whose carriage it was.
Settling down, Lord Leora called to the driver. “Let’s go.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
As the wooden carriage began its journey, Lord Leora looked at his brother sitting opposite him. “Conrad, have you ever been to an underground auction? Did you memorize all the rules and etiquette we have to know?”
“I’ve never been to an auction, and the list of rules was too long. I assume we just have to act carefully, and we should be fine,” Conrad said, crossing his right leg over his knee.
Envying how effortlessly charming his brother remained in social situations, Lord Leora leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and recalled the list of do’s and don’ts he had created.
Do: Act natural.
Do not: Threaten or harm the people attending the auction.
Do: Register for a bidder's card.
Do not: Show excrement when an item is revealed.
Do: Keep a low profile.
Do not: Bid for something you don’t want.
The list went on for quite a while, two full pages of rules he had made.
Almost an hour later, when the carriage had finally come to a stop, Lord Leora had only gone over the list two and a half times.
“My Lord, we are here,” the driver shouted, jumping down from his seat and opening the door.
Stepping out of the carriage, Lord Leora felt a moment of startlement. He had assumed that the action would be held in an underground facility, lit by flickering torches. Contrary to his belief, the auction was held in a large warehouse, just outside the legal market where the average citizen would visit.
“I didn’t think it would be here,” his brother breathed from behind him.
Not knowing how to respond, Lord Leora grunted and adjusted his mask. Nervously, he walked to the guard standing in front of the door. He pulled out the two letters of invitation his spies had acquired and handed them over.
As the guard studied the letters, Lord Leora tried to exude an aura of confidence, willing the man to let them pass without incident. Staring directly at the guard’s forehead, he waited until the man glanced up and locked eyes with him. Lord Leora didn’t blink. Towering over the man, he smiled, baring his teeth in what he hoped was a friendly grin.
Quickly stepping in front of him, Conrad flashed a bright smile at the guard, pushing Lord Leora behind him.
“How’s the event looking tonight? Full crowd? Last time I came, it was a little underwhelming; the products were only mildly interesting. Let me ask you, do you happen to know what the secret auction items are? I’d hate to spend early and come up short later.”
“I’m not allowed to talk about what’s being auctioned off,” the guard replied, still eyeing Lord Leora warily, his hands close to his sword.
Pulling out a gold coin, Conrad pressed it into the guard’s hands. “I know you can't talk,” he said, a smile visible beneath his mask, “but you’re not forbidden from nodding. Think I should hold my gold until the end?”
The guard blinked, looked at the gold, and smiled before making the coin disappear.
“You two go in. Your seats are at the front on the left side. As for the items up for auction—you won’t be disappointed.”
“Thanks,” Conrad said as he and Lord Leora walked in, heading quickly towards their seats.
“Why did you try to stare him down?” Conrade hissed, glancing back at the guard.
“What are you talking about?” Lord Leora muttered, distracted as he looked around at the people already gathered inside the warehouse.
“Did you see how scared he was? The way his hands kept inching towards his sword. You must remember that even the most seasoned warriors have a hard time locking eyes with you. Probably has something to do with your eyes and your height.”
Frowning at his brother, Lord Leora shook his head. “I didn't notice,” he finally said. He had a hard time reading people, unlike his brother.
Double then triple checking that the seats they walked up to were the ones assigned to them, Lord Leora sat down, his inquisitive eyes scanning everyone. So far, there were around ten people in the room, each one dressed flamboyantly, their faces hidden behind masks styled after animals, demons, and clowns.
Feeling anxious but excited about being plunged into a world he didn’t know existed, Lord Leora turned to his brother. “When is the auction going to start?” He asked, his eyes widening slightly as a lady wearing what looked like a bird on her head walked by.
“I don't know, I've never been to an underground auction, but it should start soon. And remember, try not to stand out too much. We are on a covert mission,” Conrad whispered, nodding over at the bird lady and receiving a nod back.
Staring at his brother in surprise, Lord Leora reminded himself that this was also his brother’s first time at an underground auction, something he had forgotten. He quietly nodded, looking towards the stage, unsure of what he should do to remain covert.
Before he knew it, the room was full, nearly a hundred people dressed in fancy costumes and masks, the whispered hubbub electrifying the room.
“Ladies and Gentlemen! Thank you for joining me tonight for this special event!” A man wearing a deer mask appeared on the stage. “It is my honor to be your host tonight. I know many of you have traveled far to get here, so without further ado, let me begin the auction!”
Clapping along with the crowd, Lord Leora stared at the host, the host's deer-inspired mask catching the torchlight, causing it to look alive.
“The first item for the night is this one-of-a-kind armor made from the skin of a Golden Ogre!” the host announced, signaling to an assistant who wheeled in an item covered by a cloth. With a dramatic flourish, the host pulled the cloth aside, revealing a magnificent golden chest piece. The golden armor shimmered as if it radiated flames, light dancing across its surface.
Masking his gasp with that of the crowd, Lord Leora studied the armor, wondering if it might be better than that of his house.
“This armor is lighter than a feather, stronger than steel—perfect for Arcane Knights! The starting bid for this priceless treasure is two hundred gold!” the host shouted, raising his arms into the air. With that, the auction had begun.
“Two hundred fifty!”
“Two hundred fifty! Do we have three hundred?”
“Three hundred!”
“Three hundred! Do we have four hundred?”
As the frenzied bidding war began, Lord Leora felt his heart quicken with excitement. This was a different kind of battle—one he had never known existed. Taking a breath to steady himself, he studied each item carefully, eyes wide with wonder at every exotic story that accompanied each piece.
He nodded in approval at a woman in a cosmic-patterned mask who just won a necklace said to originate from the High Elves of the lost continent. Still, he kept his hands firmly on his lap, not trusting himself to stay out of the bidding war.
“Ladies and Gentlemen! Sadly, we are at the end of the night! But as you all know, the best is always saved for last!” the host declared, lifting a small vial into the air. The host carefully let the light from the torches shine on the vial.
“This is the legendary Dragon’s Blood!”
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Gasps rippled through the crowd. Lord Leora instantly sat up straight, instincts screaming that something was wrong. He could feel it—someone was drawing a massive amount of Aether. And it was coming from behind him! Before the host could continue his explanation, screams erupted from the warehouse entrance, followed by the crash and thuds of bodies being hurled into the crowd.
Chaos exploded across the room. Assassins stormed in, stabbing, striking, and killing anything that moved. The sounds of death and terror overwhelmed the senses.
The assassins moved through the crowd like shadows created by a flickering lantern—sharp, jagged lines constantly shifting, dizzying to anyone who tried to follow them. Drawing Aether into his body, Lord Leora spotted an assassin charging past, sword raised to strike a fleeing, heavyset man. Lord Leora grabbed the assassin by the back of his shirt and savagely slammed his free hand into the side of the man’s throat. The crack of bones breaking was clear to his ears.
Dropping the dead man at his feet, he stooped to pick up the sword the assassin had dropped. Testing its weight with a few quick swings, he turned and cleanly beheaded another assassin who was rushing past him.
Ignoring the dead man’s body as it slid across the floor, he picked up a second weapon and tossed it to his brother.
“Take care of the assassins. I’ll get the blood!” he mouthed, his emotions vanishing as Aether surged through his body.
Leaping onto the stage, he grimaced as an assassin plunged a sword deep into the host’s chest. The deer-shaped mask clattered to the ground as the host collapsed. The assassin reached into the dead man's vest and pulled out the vial.
“That bottle belongs to me!” Lord Leora demanded, stepping forward. His voice was deeper and harder than he had expected, his aura flickering around him like an inferno.
The assassin turned at the sound, his cold blue eyes lighting up with murderous glee.
“My, my, if it isn't Lord Leora! You are also on my list! It looks like luck is on my side tonight! Breaking two birds and robbing the nest as well!”
List? What list? Lord Leora wondered, staring at the hard blue eyes that seemed devoid of warmth. Am I on some sort of hit list?
Gripping his sword tightly, he roared, fully coating himself in Aether, the terrifying Lion of Leora bursting into life behind him.
“Give me the bottle and I will make your death painless,” he spat.
Responding to his challenge, the blue-eyed assassin brought forth his own Arcane manifestation—a fierce goshawk, its talons spread in anger.
“You’re not strong enough. My Lord.”
Stepping into the Stance of Power, Lord Leora closed the distance without giving the man time to react, slashing diagonally downward, Second Form of Power: Law of Strength!
As Lord Leora’s mighty blow came down, the man raised his sword to block. A deafening clash reverberated through the room as the two swords collided.
Lord Leora’s sword stopped dead in its tracks!
Unfazed by what happened, Lord Leora pressed forward, pushing against the locked swords, trying to force the man back. As the two men struggled, their Arcane manifestation battled above them—the blue-black flames of House Leora against the rust-colored flames of the goshawk.
Grunting as the two separated, Lord Leora cursed, his sword had started to chip! The blade was too weak to withstand both the Aether he was channeling around it and the force of the battle!
I wish I had my sword, he thought, risking a glance around the room for another weapon. There was nothing.
Breathing deeply, he tried to steady himself, analyzing the fight.
I don’t know where he came from, but he’s faster than me. I’m stronger, but with this sword, I can’t use my full strength. Technique-wise, we are evenly matched.
“Your Auctoritas seems to be exaggerated,” the man said, circling Lord Leora. “You don't deserve to be counted as the strongest Great Lord. Your sword technique is excellent, but the way you use Aether is lacking, almost brutish.”
Grunting in frustration, Lord Leora pushed his anger down, switching stances to the Stance of Speed. Exhaling rapidly, he closed the distance once more, this time leaving room to retreat if needed. Second Form of Speed: Lightning’s Claw flowed into the Third Form: Lion’s Surge. Feeling his sword miss, he leaped backwards, feeling his opponent’s sword graze his cheek.
Ancestors! The man was fast!
“Brother! I’m here!” Conrad’s voice rang out behind him as he jumped up next to him. His mask was no longer on his face.
“He’s faster than I am. We have to drag it out—wait for the guards to arrive!” Lord Leora shouted, stepping aside to let Conrad get into a better position.
As the two sons of Leora flanked the blue-eyed man, their flaming lions roared in unison, signaling that the fight was far from over.
Attacking at the same time, Lord Leora aimed to decapitate the man. His hand flashed forward, the chipped sword drawing a jagged line through the air. Seeing the sword, the man was forced to take a step back, giving Conrad an opening.
“Take this!”
As Conrad’s sword struck like lightning, the assassin cursed, blocking the strike with the flat of his blade. Stepping forward, he retaliated by striking Conrad with the pommel of his sword.
Charging forward, giving his brother time to recover, Lord Leora launched into a losing exchange. Sparks flew with each clash as the Aether around his sword began to flicker and wane. Within seconds, his body was covered in cuts, his fancy clothes soaked in bright blood.
Diving backwards, he tried to create space, rotating energy through his limbs he checked his vitals.
So far, he had been lucky; all the injuries on his body were superficial, and nothing was life-threatening yet.
Watching the man press Conrad, Lord Leora took a moment to draw in as much power as he could. The speed at which he absorbed Aether caused the lion crest on his shoulder to burn with pain, but he ignored it. Pulling deeply, his power skyrocketed until the energy coursing through his body felt like it would burst.
Roaring in rage, he charged at the killer, his sword raised high.
Stance of Power. Form one: Warlords Decree.
House Leora’s strongest attack exploded into light. A blazing lion-shaped flame crashed down with a thunderous crash. A soul-shaking shockwave radiated from the impact, causing the torch flames around the warehouse to dance madly.
Standing, Lord Leora stared at his sword.
The chipped blade refused to move, blocked by the assassin's sword.
The blue-eyed man was smiling, completely unscathed.
“Like I said, exaggerated,” he said. Stepping forward, he kicked Lord Leora square in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground.
Rolling back on his feet, Lord Leora raised his sword again, his stubborn determination the only thing keeping despair at bay. He didn’t understand what was happening, or why he didn’t recognize someone so strong, but that didn’t matter now.
The only thing that mattered was standing his ground.
Sword held in a defensive guard, he took a deep breath, preparing for another clash.
Then a shout came.
“STOP! City Guards! Everyone down on your stomachs now!”
Soldiers in the distinctive armor of the city guards rushed into the warehouse, weapons drawn and ready.
Knowing the guards were trained to fight Arcane Warriors through teamwork, Lord Leora felt a spark of hope.
“I am Drake Leora of House Leora! As of this moment, you will listen to my commands!” he shouted, his raised voice reverberating around the warehouse.
The guards hesitated for a moment, uncertain—until Lord Leora’s Arcane manifestation burst into action.
The terrifying Lion of Leora roared above him; the only proof needed.
Silence gripped the room.
Then, the commander of the Guards stepped forward, his face flushed.
“Lord Leora, we are at your command!”
“It looks like we have unwanted bugs,” the blue-eyed man uttered, his head shaking as he sheathed his sword. Stepping back with a smile, he locked eyes with Lord Leora. “I will see you later, Lord Leora. You are still on my list.”
Recognizing the truth in the man’s voice, Lord Leora knew he had to kill him while he had the advantage.
“Stop him!” he yelled, drawing Aether into his body.
Subconsciously, he knew it was futile, but it didn’t matter. He charged recklessly at the blue-eyed man, his sword carving a razor-sharp line through the air. Roaring with all his might, he stuck forward, his Arcane manifestation attacking alongside him.
Instantly, the blue-eyed man countered, his sword flying out of his sheath.
As the two swords met for the last time, an earsplitting clash rang out, and Lord Leora’s sword shattered into a thousand pieces. If he didn’t expect his sword to break, Lord Leora knew he would have been in trouble, but he had struck knowing the sword would break.
Ducking under the counter strike from the blue-eyed man, he performed a front kick, feeling the man’s ribs break from the impact.
Rolling back and spitting a mouthful of blood to the ground, the man grinned.
“That was a good kick. But if I were you, I’d carry a better sword the next time.” Smirking devilishly, he vanished into the darkness, leaving only a mouthful of blood on the ground.
Wincing in pain and frustration, Lord Leora tossed his shattered sword aside. Cursing, he called out to the guards who had chased the man into the darkness. “Don’t bother, he’s gone.”
Sitting down heavily, he waited for the pain he had ignored during the fight to come rushing back. Tasking blood in his mouth, he spat it out, noticing the commander of the guards making his way to him.
“My Lord, who was he?”
Grunting, Lord Leora waved his hand. “Don’t worry about that. I want you to search all the dead and report anything of interest… And send for a doctor, there might be some people we can save.”
“Sir!”
“Drake, you need to see this!” Conrad limped over to him, his face twisted from a combination of surprise and anger. “Follow me!”
Taking a quick breath, Lord Leora stood without faltering, though his hands began to shake as the adrenaline from battle faded. Following his brother, he passed the bodies of the auction-goers and assassins, their freshly spilled blood congealing into soft clumps on the floor.
“Drake, look at this man,” Conrad said, pointing to a body near the warhorse entrance. The man’s face had been split in half along with his mask. One half of the mask still clung to his face, while the other lay shattered on the ground, revealing half his face.
“Look at him.”
Bending down, Lord Leora carefully peeled away the remaining piece of the mast. He gasped in shock as he recognized the face.
“Is that Treselium?”
“I was hoping I was wrong,” Conrad spat, more blood than saliva leaving his mouth.
“What is a former general of Salizia here? I thought he died years ago!” Lord Leora muttered, his mind racing as he tried to piece the parts together.
“Guards! I want to find out everything you can about this man and his connection to the auction. No one is to leave without thorough identity verification. I want to know who they are, how they learned about this auction, and where they live!” he shouted.
Standing up, he turned to his brother. “You need to get your wounds checked out. Once that’s done, come back and take over. I'll get treated afterward. I’ll handle things until then.”
Watching Conrad nod and walk away, Lord Leora knew this situation was far from over.
A few days later, Lord Leora sat writing a report to Lord Hector, his massive hand engulfing his quill.
From what we’ve been able to determine, we must acknowledge that General Treselium did not die during the Dark Times as Queen Kina’s brother reported. At some point after faking his death, Treselium assumed a new identity: Lapal. Using this alias and his intimate knowledge of our guard system, he amassed a fortune through the dark market.
Treselium’s identity as Lapal also explains how he managed to plant so many spies within our ranks. As a former general, he still commanded the loyalty of many veterans who served under him, men who would follow him without question.
Most importantly, we confirmed that Treselium was the one attempting to auction off a poison called the Dragon’s Blood. This is troubling. I suspect he was the one who poisoned King Alfred. It must have been administered gradually.
Unfortunately, we were unable to secure the Dragon’s Blood. An unknown assailant acquired it despite our best efforts. His identity remains a mystery, but based on his abilities, I believe he is either an Arcane Master or dangerously close to becoming one. He killed Treselium instantly, then fought both Conrad and me at the same time.
Someone of such strength and secrecy could only be a hidden card from a foreign Kingdom. No independent organization could produce a fighter of his caliber. His existence alone is proof that a neighboring nation has its eyes on us.
After the fight, Conrad and I tried to reconstruct the fight to figure out what martial system he used. So far, all we can tell is that he purposely hid his background by using basic movements from multiple systems.
I will continue investigating this incident. In the meantime, I strongly recommend keeping Treselium’s death a secret. We cannot predict how his loyalists will react if news of his death spreads.
- Your Friend,
Drake Leora.
Reading the report aloud, Lord Leora sighed. He put his quill down and lifted his arms over his head in a stretch. Even though he was relieved to uncover Treselium’s fate, he was still troubled, questions jumping around his head.
Who was this blue-eyed man? Blue eyes weren’t rare in the Kingdom… but his were unnaturally pale, ice-like. Why had he killed Treselium? Did he know him as Lapal or Treselium? How did he know about the poison? And finally, why had he said Lord Leora was on his hit list?
Yawning, he reminded himself that once he was done with the report, he had to bolster the number of guards he had on duty. The threat had to be taken seriously.
He quickly sealed the parchment, carefully dripping a glob of hot wax onto the fold. Reaching for his family seal, he pressed the cool metal to the wax, watching the roaring lion of Leora emerge. Once the wax hardened, he set the report aside, his mind still racing with unformed thoughts.