NOVEL NEXT Chapter 35: [35] Crash Out
"A single fucking thing, you can't do a single fucking thing right!"
Crash!
A glass cup exploded by the side of Kaeri's head, sending glass shards flying into her skin and drawing blood.
The girl flinched but made no effort to move; she just sat there, her gaze downcast.
Darell was furious. He paced around the room, his eyes bloodshot and his breathing heavy.
To think he would miss out on the opportunity to get more powerful people on his side!
Everything had been planned out perfectly—five warrior slaves who would put their lives on the line to protect him was all he needed…
But now everything was in shambles. Edward was dead, the slave industry in Sandhill had collapsed, and the city knights were investigating the case.
Thankfully, he always covered his tracks well. If not, this could have still led back to him, and it was all because of that masked freak.
He turned to Kaeri, his glare sharp enough to cut through stone.
"How useless are you if you lost to a man with a bread sack over his head?!"
Kaeri stiffened.
"Worst of all, you say it was only him and you expect me to believe that bullshit? One man broke into the slave trader's secret base, one man freed countless slaves, one man went toe to toe against a mercenary mage, and that same one man killed Edward.
"How does that fucking sound to you?!"
Whoosh!
Darell shoved everything on his desk down to the floor.
'It couldn't have been one man. Most likely one of his rival lords was making a move on him, pushing him to the edge to see how he would react.'
He could not lose his cool like this…
Darell took a deep breath and stared outside the window.
Was this all just a small warning, or would he be seeing the masked man sometime soon?
He bit his cheeks and turned to the girl who was still staring at the floor. Her cheek had been cut by the stray glass and was bleeding onto her yellow shirt.
"Tell the chief knight to double the estate security and keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary."
He paused and pulled out a cigar from his suit before lifting it, his hands shaky.
"After that, do two hundred laps around the estate." The little elf nodded and left the room, not even a word of protest leaving her lips.
That was what made slaves great. No matter what, he needed to get his hands on a few more slaves…
They were the only people he could trust because they did not have a will of their own.
<You're going to get that girl killed one of these days>
The voice came first, then a little purple ball of pulsing energy appeared, and although Darell could not see any eyes, he was sure that they were set on him.
Darell sucked in a lungful of smoke and exhaled, his scowl lessening slightly.
"If that kills her then she was useless to begin with."
The echo chuckled.
<She is young, foolish… but powerful. It'll be a waste to see her go, but alas, what do I know?>
Darell glanced at the echo and scoffed. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood for your lectures."
There was a short period of silence.
<It is time you made payment for that which you were given.>
The echo said, its voice cold.
<Ride to the southern WayStone with an offering in hand, cast your blood upon the stone, and your debt will be considered paid>
The echo vanished, leaving Darell alone. He pushed the butt of his cigar against the table before gritting his teeth and tossing it to the other side of the wall.
"Fuck!"
•••
Stark had a bucket in one hand and a mop in the other, systematically moving through a hall as he wiped the floors clean.
He was taking his time, making it look as though he was being diligent, but he was actually just hoping to pick something out of what Darell was saying…
His office was in the middle of this hall, after all.
As Stark got closer, the shouting became even more intense.
—A single fucking thing, you can't do a single fucking thing right!
'Who is he talking to?'
Stark suspected he was still furious about what happened at the cave, he was probably taking it out on some poor guy.
Standing in front of the door was a knight in shimmering chainmail armor, his sword unsheathed and his posture straight.
Stark did his best to act uninterested.
When he got to the door, he slowed down even further…
But it was ranting and shouting, nothing really important. But just as he moved past the door, the door creaked open and he heard the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall.
He wanted to take a peek, but that would just make him look suspicious in front of the knight, so he just kept doing his thing.
The door once again opened when Stark had gone down the hall and another man emerged.
Stark didn't need to turn to check who it was because he could hear it from his voice.
"Tell the coachman to prepare two carriages for a long trip in five to seven days' time."
A dark smile tugged at the corner of Stark's lips, a plan already blossoming in his head.
At the end of the day, Stark returned to his room and sat on the floor, cross-legged and with his eyes closed.
There was something he needed to practice...
After his ascension, there was a new perk he had unlocked, one that he had not used up until now—the ability to enter his soul.
Although he still had no idea how he could use it, he was determined to find out, and so he closed his eyes and concentrated.
He reached into the depths of his mind and searched for it, that shimmering blue thread that connected him to his inner mind.
It took several failed attempts, but after some time, he saw it, a faint blue glow in a vast and empty darkness.
Stark got hold of it and pulled.
The world darkened a second later.