Shackled Exalted

Emil

The whereabouts of the Rubare clan lied in the northmost district of Azure City. There was a stable on the edge of the Second and Third Sectors that served as the front for the clan's human trafficking business. The northern section of the Third Sector was covered in grassy plains, suitable for raising grazing animals like horses and cattle. In the past, the area was used as farmland for growing crops and medicinal plants. Before Azure City had become the center for Exalted affairs, agriculture was the predominant industry in this region.

Once the Council of Mana established its foundations here, however, farming quickly became forgotten in favor of studying mana and mining Azurite. While the Council never directly intervened against the interests of the farmers, they also never supported them either. During periods of bad harvests, the Council was indifferent to their pleads as they requested aid to get through the bad times.

After a particularly nasty disaster that wiped out most of the farmlands in the area, the farmers were placed in a tumultuous situation. Left without a choice, they finally abandoned the lands that they had tended to and the skills that they had fostered for generations.

In the absence of human intervention, these lands eventually returned to the grassy plains that they had been for ages prior.

"Emil, slow down!"

Petra's pleads echoed over the chilly night breeze. Emil shot a glance behind him. His senior was right on his tail. The cause of her distress was not because she was unable to keep up with his pace, but something else.

"Why?"

They had finally interrogated the Rubare's location from the greedy information broker. Just the thought of his arrogant smile made Emil's veins pop. He regretted his patience—he should have threatened violence immediately once he realized that Lugner was negotiating in bad faith. They wasted enough time in that seedy tavern.

"Do I need to remind you that you fell from a seven-foot-tall building just two days ago?!" Petra answered.

He sneered. "How can I forget?"

Petra went quiet. Emil realized that she was concerned for his injuries. He had been limping towards her abode just an hour ago for a follow-up medical assessment and now he was sprinting full-speed to raid a syndicate compound just after a confrontation against Lugner's henchmen. The state of his body was the least of his concerns now, however. They had to get to Mia. Fast. Before something reprehensible happens to her. With his veins flooded with adrenaline, the pain inundating his body felt no more than a dull sting.

"You should—"

"Petra," he cut her off, staring into her eyes, "You'll help me, right?"

She swallowed nervously, and then nodded.

"Then all we need to care about is finding Mia."

The stable came into view.

Like Lugner mentioned, it was the only structure of its kind in this area. It was impossible to miss. Emil came to a stop. They were on the rooftop of the last row of multistoried buildings in the Second Sector. The stable was a block in front of them.

Out of all the businesses they could have chosen as a front, they decided to be stable masters.

Logistically, it made sense. Horses and caravans were the most efficient way to transport large numbers of people at once.

"There's two people standing guard at the stable entrance," he whispered, "The street lamps are spread out thinly in this area of the city. We can sneak up close by clinging to the shadows. You still have throwing knives on you, right?"

"Yes, but before you go on a rampage, can I please apply some emergency first aid on you?" Petra pleaded.

"I said I was fine."

Petra frowned, exasperated. "You still have poison needles sticking out of your body."

Emil glanced at his right shoulder. He hadn't even realized. Now it made sense why his upper arm felt numb. Before he could say anything, Petra had already removed the needles. Droplets of blood spilled from the open wound. Petra quickly dabbed the punctured marks with a swab of cotton.

"I don't have any panacea on me unfortunately."

"I'm sure Steiger's toxin immunity measures will work as advertised."

"Those are supposed to be a stopgap measure, not a—" Petra stopped herself, realizing it was futile to argue with him any further. They both knew what was at stake and the need for urgency. She let out a frustrated sigh and brandished her throwing knives instead. "You're going to get yourself killed one day, you know that?"

"Welcome to the life of a Cleaner."

The two of them descended down the height of the building in silence. The streets were empty. It was quiet unlike the rousing chaos of the main district. Emil and Petra crept close to the gates of the stable. Concealed by the shadows of the moonlight, they approached in perfect silence. The guards at the front of the stable had a bored expression on their face, unaware of their intrusion. One of them let out an unsightly yawn.

Emil pounced at the opportunity.

He dashed out with a small burst of mana, crossing the distance in an instant. The two guards barely had a chance to react before a pair of throwing knives drove into their necks. Emil caught their bodies before they could fall and delivered lethal strikes for assurance. He let them down gently onto the ground, careful not to make any sounds.

Petra arrived by his side.

"Give me a heads-up next time!" she whispered harshly in his ears.

He gestured an okay sign as the two climbed over the walls of the gated stables. The smell of animals and manure permeated the compound. There wasn't a single person in sight. The snorts of the sleeping horses echoed periodically from the main stable building.

If my hunch is correct—

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Emil walked towards the rear of the stables. The stench of manure grew progressively stronger with every advancing step. When he reached the rear, he paused to look around. Here, the outer walls of the compound were high enough to block the view of anyone passing. The stable itself shielded this section of the compound from view even if someone was perched atop of the closest multistoried building.

He crouched down and activated Seismic Sense.

Mana crawled along the ground, highlighting the various indentations left by footprints and natural degradations. As the blue wisps spread, they revealed a peculiar surface hidden amidst tall grass and rubble. Emil brushed aside the dirt covering the surface.

A trapdoor.

Guess all those times I spent undercover in the syndicates weren't completely useless.

"You think the Rubare are in there?" Petra asked, crouching beside him.

"A trapdoor conveniently hidden from view? That presumably leads to somewhere underground? You might as well scream secret hideout."

"Then, let me scout with Animal Sibyl first before we—"

"No," Emil interjected as he lifted the trapdoor, "There's no need to be overly cautious. Prepare throwing knives and watch my back. I will lead us in."

Without another word, he descended the ladder by the entrance of the trapdoor. The downward passage was narrow. A bright incandescent light flickered against the walls from the bottom of the ladder. The walls seemed to close in on him, threatening to devour him whole as he ventured further down. Emil was assaulted by a familiar sense of claustrophobia. His palms were drenched in sweat. His steps were shaky as his body trembled with every step.

Stop being a coward.

He filled his mind with thoughts of Mia instead. She must have been terrified and alone as she was held captive by the Rubare clan. The image incensed him immediately. The fear was burned away by a vengeful flame.

Thud.

He landed at the bottom of the ladder. Petra was right behind him. They were at the rear of a wide corridor. The ceilings and walls were reinforced by wooden fixtures and iron columns. It resembled an old mining shaft. Torches affixed to the walls provided plenty of light. The corridor continued further down and eventually branched off into larger room. A meeting area, Emil presumed. He could hear vague sounds of conversation echoing from up the hall.

He strolled towards the meeting area. He took a deep breath. His heart slowed. The bloodlust dulled. He let the murderous urges pass. For a moment, his mind was a blank slate.

And then he stepped out into the open.

Everyone froze. All conversations ceased. Silence. His sudden appearance was met with bewilderment. There were at least twenty people sitting in the meeting area. Their eyes were wide, confused. The sight of a black-cladded figure casually walking in unannounced was not a situation that one encountered often. They didn't know how to react. Was he friend or foe? Was this an elaborate prank by one of their associates? The sheer audacity of this stranger kept everyone dumbstruck.

"I'm looking for the leader of the Rubare clan," Emil proclaimed. His voice was authoritative, but devoid of hostility. Still perplexed by what was happening, some of the members instinctively glanced back. Emil traced their eyes, finding them upon a large, stout man at the rear of the room. He was dressed in a maroon velvet vest and a pair of silk expensive-looking trousers. A half-full wine glass in his hand.

"Great. The rest of you can die."

Emil unsheathed his blood-stained sword. The glint of cold steel cut across the air. The metallic screech of the blade was accompanied by a loud splatter. The head of the nearest Rubare member rolled on the floor.

Malice flooded the room. Emil lunged, immersed in his bloodlust. Red decorated the floor. The screams of the Rubares rang like a cacophonous symphony.

Bain

Bain opened his eyes. The side of his head was pounding with a throbbing headache. His vision was unsteady, blurring in and out of focus. He tried to move his arms and legs, only to find his limbs uncooperative to his demands. Confused, he glanced down.

"A-Ahhhhhh!"

He screamed. The visceral terror ripped itself out of his throat as he found himself face-to-face with his associates. Or rather, what remained of them. The lobby room of his underground hideout was defaced in carnage. Everyone was dead. Gore stained the floor.

Bain was no stranger to violence. He had been a former member of the crime syndicates of Lower Dannan. His failed ambition to seize power in the organization caused him to be expelled. Over the years of his service, he had encountered his fair share of human cruelty.

Still, nothing could have prepared him for the savagery laid before him. Repulsed, he looked away, not wanting to see the expressions of terror etched permanently on his associate's faces.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Footsteps resounded across the room.

A man cladded in full-black approached him. His face was masked. In his right hand was his bloody sword, the blade dragging along the ground, screeching faintly in a creepy drawl. In his left was another man's corpse.

Bain recognized the dead man as the Exalted he had on payroll.

Shit!

His blood ran cold. Only then did he realized that his limbs had been bound. He was locked into a chair. Helpless. At the mercy of this murderous fiend.

Another black-cladded person appeared. They scanned the room as if taking in the carnage for the first time.

"…Goddammit, Emil."

A female voice. One of the intruders was a woman.

"Did you find her?" the other one named Emil asked.

The woman shook her head. "No, the cells are empty. This place was likely a temporary holding place before they transported everyone elsewhere."

"Well, that's unfortunate," Emil said, almost languid. The man trudged towards Bain. He leaned forward, bringing himself to eye level. Up close, Bain could see his cold sunken eyes. His pupils were a deep icy blue. Piercing. Bain shuddered, feeling suffocated from the murderous intent pressing down on his throat.

"I need to know. There's a girl who was captured by your men earlier today. About four hours ago. Roughly. Ring any bells?"

Of course.

Bain sneered. He should have known. It was obvious. There was no other reason why these two would have raided his hideout. They were here because Rubare clan took one of theirs. For a second, Bain regretted his greed. He should have never accepted his client's demands.

"Fuck you."

Bain spat in his face. Spittle dripped down the length of Emil's mask. The man didn't flinch at all, holding his gaze as he fell silent. Bain wasn't naïve. He knew he was probably not getting out of this place alive. So instead of cooperating and giving his assailants what they wanted, he will live out the remaining minutes of life defiant.

"Honestly, I don't understand you people," Emil said with a sigh, "You know you're about to die anyways, but you still want to resist till the bitter end. For what? To prove a point? To take a futile stand? Is your pride really worth all that much? What a waste of fucking time."

He snapped his fingers. Bain shuddered as a torrent of flames materialized around his palms. Without warning, Emil lunged and pressed his hands into Bain's face.

"Arghhhh!"

Flames seared into the skin. He tried to pry himself away but Emil's grip was ironclad. The agony continued to build as the blaze feasted on his flesh. After what felt like an eternity, Emil finally released his grasp. Bain grasped, sniveling. The scent of burnt meat permeated the air.

Emil disappeared from his view for a brief moment. When he returned, he had a jar of wine in his hands.

"N-No…" Bain whimpered, realizing what was coming next.

Indifferent to his pleads, Emil kicked the leg of Bain's chair. He fell backwards, landing on his back. Forced to face the ceiling, he watched as Emil poured the wine.

He could only scream as the liquid seeped into the pores of his wounds. With his freshly burnt flesh, the feeling of fluids on his face was scalding. The acidity of the alcohol only intensified the agony.

"Good job. Look at you, taking a stand against your captors. Must feel amazing, doesn't it? The heavens must be so moved by your courage."

The chilling words sent shivers down his spine. Bain stared at the man named Emil. The faceless monster crouched beside him. His posture was loose and relaxed as if this insanity was just another day of leisure for him.

"So, have I massaged your pride thoroughly enough? Do you still want to show off how defiant you are? I have many other ways for you to demonstrate your courage." He suddenly had a dagger in his hands. Bain didn't even catch him grabbing the weapon.

"You still have four limbs. Twenty digits in total. Your two eyes. Your two ears. Your entire array of teeth. Oh, but mutilation isn't only method I have. There's many more in this fucked up head of mine." Emil tapped the hilt of his dagger against the side of his head like a madman. "Just say the word. I'm sure you can impress me with how courageous you really are."