Rebirth Of The Bastard Spirit Summoner

After leaving his daughter's room, Caylus' gaze hardened, switching from his fatherly demeanor to one befitting a chief knight.

He left the servant's quarters and moved to the back of the main building, where he was greeted by a gnarly sight.

Lord Darell came out of the back door, his hands covered in blood. He slung his coat over his shoulders and began washing his hands as a servant poured water on them.

Then he waved over one of the knights. The young man picked up the pace, already nervous at the sight of all the blood.

"Get me Rusty, tell him to be quick," Darell said before putting on his coat.

Caylus frowned. 'What the hell is he getting involved in this time?'

Then his eyes caught movement at the manor door. Immediately, he pulled out his sword, about to lunge into action, when he realized who it was.

It was Kaeri, the elf girl Darell had gotten some time back.

"What happened to her?"

She looked ghostly pale and walked slowly, like she was seconds away from slumping to her death.

Her shirt was soaked in blood, the shredded fabric the only sign of the multiple stab wounds she must have suffered.

She had been stabbed repeatedly and healed—she had been tortured.

Caylus glanced at Darell, his body tense with quiet anger. Every day, it seemed his madness was only growing deeper and his propensity for evil more profound.

It was hard to think this was the same lord he had served for many years.

'If I was not under oath to his late father…'

He began to walk toward Darell, stopping when he reached the mad lord.

Darell glanced at him and smiled. "Would you believe me if I said she did it to herself?"

"…"

He chuckled. "You're no fun, Caylus."

The knight from earlier arrived alongside another man, a man Caylus felt like splitting apart from head down.

Like the people of his profession, he was dressed in light fitting leather armour, perfect for running away after a job had been done.

His hair was rough and uncombed, and his wary eyes were always shifting, the gaze of a thief looking for his next prey.

There were crooked daggers arranged on his belt, each one impressively sharp.

'A mercenary…' Criminals wrapped up in a nearer package.

The man bowed when he met Darell, a dangerous smile forming on his face.

"You called, my lord?"

Darell glanced at him and pinched his nose. "My goodness, Rusty, how much did you drink?"

The man scratched his head nervously.

"Well, not like it matters. Let's get to business, shall we?"

By now, Kaeri had joined them, but the elf kept her gaze on the dirt. Strangely, it looked like she was bothered by something more than the multiple stabs she had received.

Darell held Rusty's shoulder and looked the man right in the eyes. "You see, there is a job… How many men can I get in the next ten minutes?"

The shady man smiled. "Enough, boss. Enough."

"Very well, be quick."

Although Caylus had been paying attention to everything, he still couldn't figure out what was going on.

What did Darell need mercenaries for? And why had he punished the elf so severely?

He was about to ask when the door to the estate swung open and a knight ran toward them, his armour clanging as he approached.

In his hands was a blade Darell remembered very well, the sword of the last lord, a family heirloom that had been passed on to Darell.

A dark blue blade known as the Swallowtail.

Darell smiled as he took the sword from the knight, then unsheathed the blade, the dark blue steel gleaming under the morning sun.

"Caylus, I'm afraid there has been a change in plans… If they want me dead, then I'm going to bring them hell."

•••

The journey to the Waystone took about three days, and by the time they arrived in the small town, it was already night.

Since the town was still under his administration, normally Darell would have visited the administrator, but instead, he went straight to the Waystone and alighted from the carriage.

By his side was Caylus, the useless elf, and two of his most trusted knights. But they were just the first wave.

Behind him was a group of mercenaries, each one more rugged than the last.

Kaeri had eventually broken, yet her information was completely useless. She had no idea what the killer's plan was, and the only name she knew was 'Stard.'

So Darell had brought the entire party with him, even though Caylus alone was more than enough to handle them.

But first…

"Cross to the other side after five minutes," Darell said to the mercenaries.

He couldn't wait to see the look on that man's stupid face when he realized Darell was two steps ahead.

"Let's go."

The five of them placed their hands on the Waystone, and the structure buzzed to life, multiple runes lighting up just before they vanished out of sight.

When they appeared at the next Waystone, Darell's eyes immediately landed on a figure sitting by the edge of the platform.

He was wearing a dark flowing cloak that fluttered in the wind, his entire frame hidden within the fabric.

The figure was about to turn when Caylus charged. In the blink of an eye, he appeared in front of the man, and a second later, his sword came down with the force of a mountain.

Boom!

Blood splattered across the undamaged stone, the tattered cloak stained crimson.

"NOOO!" Kaeri screamed, about to run forward when one of Darell's knights held her back.

"Hahahahahahahahahaha!" Darell laughed, his hand covering his face.

"Is that it? Is that all? One measly man who died the first second we got here? Kaeri, don't tell me this is your proposed saviour?"

Darell was honestly disappointed, he didn't even get to summon his ace.

The girl's eyes widened in shock, her lips quivering as tears rolled down her cheeks. She struggled against the knight's grip, but he held her firmly.

"How does it feel knowing your treachery caused his doom? That your greed for freedom was the cause of his undoing—"

"What are you waffling about, fool?" a voice came from above, cutting Darell off.

Darell glanced up, his gaze locking on a figure who sat casually atop the Waystone, the moon illuminating his form.

He was dressed in pure black clothes, had a crystal sword strapped to his back, and on his head…

'That damned bread sack!'

It was the man he had encountered in the caves, the reason he could not get more slaves.

"You bastard."

The man jumped down, landing on the other side of the platform.

"Since you already know my name…" He unsheathed his crystal sword and took a fighting stance.

"I guess there is no need for introductions. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Darell."