Trinity of Magic [Progression Fantasy]

Zeke approached the corpses of the unfortunate gangsters Ash had killed earlier. As he did so, a mass of blood slid down his right shoulder, taking the shape of his missing arm. However, instead of a hand, the arm ended in a blade.

Ash quietly watched his master's strange conduct. However, his eyes widened when he saw Zeke use his newly grown hand to behead one of the corpses. “Master… what are you doing?” he whispered, mindful not to draw any attention.

“I am going to infiltrate their headquarters on my own,” Zeke said, not stopping his strange actions. He carelessly pushed the decapitated head aside to grab the collar that was still attached to the man’s neck. With a violent tug, he managed to pry it off.

Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the sturdy-looking lock holding it closed.

“Can you open this, Akasha?”

While Akasha was working on the lock, Zeke returned his attention to an increasingly panicked-looking Ash. “I am going to pretend to be one of the slaves and infiltrate their headquarters that way,” Zeke explained.

However, instead of calming him down, the news only disturbed Ash even more. “No!” he whisper-shouted. “That is far too dangerous!”

“I know it’s dangerous, but what alternatives are there?”

“You are going to be found out right away, Master,” Ash insisted. “There are no other Mages down there, only Chimeroi. You are going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Am I?” Zeke asked with a smirk.

It was only then that Ash noticed that something strange was happening. Zeke’s Blood Magic hadn’t stopped after forming his bladed right hand. Instead, a red film was now covering most of his legs and lower stomach, slowly making its way up his body. Before long, his entire skin was covered in red from head to toe, giving the impression of a man wholly made of blood.

“How do I look?” Zeke asked in a voice that was both deep and menacing. Ash just gaped at him, at a complete loss for words. It was clear that the transformation had shocked the poor man to his core. Zeke was completely satisfied with this reaction.

Even for him, hearing the voice of a stranger coming out of his mouth was a rather surreal experience. Zeke had been aware that he was capable of doing this ever since he first observed a Flesh Mage change the lengths of their vocal cords. However, knowing something and experiencing it firsthand were two wholly different things.

Only after a long moment did Ash come back to his senses. “Master… what did you do?”

Zeke chuckled softly. However, instead of its usual playfulness, his raspy voice made it sound threatening instead. “Do I still look like a Mage?” he asked.

Ash scanned him from head to toe, his forehead creasing as he did so. “I can’t tell what you are, Master.”

Zeke nodded in satisfaction. By covering his body with Blood Magic, he made it impossible to tell what was beneath. This approach was inspired by the Mana-repellent clothing the Messenger in Tradespire wore. Now, he could definitely pass for a strange kind of Chimeroi.

“Are you sure about this, Master?” Ash asked after a moment of silence. “You will have to keep the disguise up at all times, even at night.”

Just when Zeke was about to answer, the lock on the collar in his hands opened with an audible click. Akasha was truly a marvel; not only had the task taken her no time at all, but she was maintaining his changed voice and disguise simultaneously. With her help, it wouldn’t be a problem at all to maintain his disguise.

“You worry too much,” he said, and without a moment’s hesitation, he put the collar around his neck and fastened it. “They won’t suspect a thing as long as I am wearing one of these and pretend to be obedient.”

Ash didn’t seem fully convinced, the doubt still clearly visible in his eyes. Yet, he didn’t seem as resistant to the idea as before. “What do you want me to do, then?”

“I want you to infiltrate the stronghold on your own,” Zeke said. “Don’t try to get into the main building, though. I just need you to stay close enough for my [Telepathy] to reach you. That way, I can contact you if anything goes wrong.”

Ash nodded, satisfied that he would not be left out this time. Seeing this, Zeke smiled warmly. However, instead of feeling reassured, Ash scowled, inching back ever so slightly. It was only now that Zeke remembered how his face looked at the moment. This would need some getting used to.

“…Anyway. I’ll be going now,” Zeke said somewhat awkwardly before making his way to the opposite side of the roof. With a graceful leap, he landed in the abandoned alleyway. If he wanted to join the procession of slaves unnoticed, he would have to pick the right spot. Thankfully, he knew just the place.

***

“Move! You fucking scum!” Ishaan yelled. This was the part of his job he hated most. It was always the same, every single time. The moment their headquarters came into view, the crying and begging would start.

Usually, Ishaan relished seeing the slaves in despair, but he didn’t have the time to enjoy it at the moment. His primary objective was to get them into the headquarters without drawing any attention, and their cries weren’t helping.

“Silence, you filthy maggots!” he yelled, and the noise immediately quieted down, causing Ishaan to smile. The slave seal was truly useful at times like this. “Back into formation, all of you!”

Reluctantly, the unruly mob formed a single line once more. Some of the more headstrong Chimeroi tried to resist. However, even they relented after a few moments of punishment from their collars. Ishaan knew from experience how unpleasant it was to be on the receiving end of Lightning Magic. Resistance was utterly futile, and even the strongest mind would eventually give in to the pain.

Ishaan scanned the crowd with a satisfied expression. He would enjoy breaking these new recruits. He had been forced to play nice for far too long, and he had a lot of pent-up stress. But now that he was back home, he could play to his heart’s content.

Just as he was about to order the slaves to continue their march, his gaze landed on a particular figure in the middle of the formation. This slave had utterly smooth, blood-red skin without a single blemish. His head was bald, and instead of a hand, his right arm ended in a blade. As far as Chimeroi went, his appearance was rather unique.

However, none of that was what had drawn his attention. Instead, it was his eyes. The man had bright, golden eyes that seemed eerily familiar. However, that was impossible. Ishaan was confident that he would remember meeting such a peculiar individual.

With quick steps, he arrived next to the red man, gazing deeply into his eyes.

Ishaan was certain that he had seen those eyes before. This was suspicious. His gaze traveled downward to the collar around the man’s neck. It held the insignia of the Ember Scar Cartel, as it should. However, he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Show me your brand!” he ordered.

The red man tilted his head, seemingly confused. Ishaan’s eyes narrowed, and the bones in his hand emerged to form a spike, ready to strike. Was this man really an infiltrator?

However, a moment later, as if suddenly realizing what he meant, the slave lifted his shirt, showing off his lower back. Ishaan’s gaze traveled down, his vigilance at an all-time high. Yet, his caution turned out to be for naught as he found the insignia of the Ember Scar Cartel burnt into the man’s red skin.

Ishaan relaxed, retracting his bone spear. It seemed he had been overthinking things. After all, the branding technique of the Firebrand school was rather unique and easily recognizable by those in the know, and this brand looked perfectly legitimate.

Ishaan glared at the slave one last time before returning to his position at the front of the column. “Move, you pieces of shit!”

***

Zeke breathed a quiet sigh of relief the moment Ishaan left.

This had been an unforeseen crisis. He had aimed for the exact moment the headquarters came into view, teleporting into the crowd of slaves the moment they fell into disarray. He had thought that his infiltration had worked without a hitch. However, somehow, Ishaan still noticed him and demanded to see his brand.

Fortunately, Akasha had been able to replicate the brand from the bodies of the surrounding slaves. Otherwise, his plan might have failed before it even started.

“Good work, Akasha!”

Zeke chuckled. It felt like Akasha was getting wittier lately.

Their long procession moved quickly and soon arrived in front of the headquarters of the cartel. The guards immediately opened the gate upon noticing Ishaan, allowing them to enter smoothly. As Zeke passed them by, he covertly scanned the guards.

As it turned out, they were all slaves. If he had to make an estimation, he would guess that they were all around the same level as Ripper in terms of strength. It was rather challenging to determine a Chimeroi's actual prowess from their bodies alone, but at least they could match her in physical attributes.

More surprising, however, was the fact that almost everyone around here seemed to be a slave. Zeke hadn’t noticed this fact when observing the base from far away, but it now seemed as if 99% of the gang members wore a collar. The only exception to this rule seemed to be the captains at Ishaan’s level.

After another short walk, their group arrived in front of the main building, causing Zeke to smirk. His gamble had paid off, as it now seemed the new recruits would be trained somewhere in this facility. However, unlike earlier, Ishaan’s status wasn’t enough to convince the guards to let them pass without inspection.

Ishaan waited beyond the gate, impatiently tapping his feet, as each of the slaves was inspected in turn. Soon, it was Zeke’s turn.

The guard who inspected him was a muscular Chimeroi woman with tiny horns on her forehead. A quick scan revealed that she had the physical attributes to match up to Gravitas, Vulcanos, or Ash. Clearly, this guard position was reserved for the cream of the crop.

The woman unceremoniously lifted his shirt to examine the brand on his back before closely inspecting his collar. Only after she was satisfied with her findings did she address Zeke.

“Name?” the woman barked.

“Blood Dra—” Zeke answered instinctively but cut himself off just in time.

“What was that?” the woman asked with a raised brow.

“Blood Dagger,” Zeke said after an instant of thought. The guard scrutinized him for a moment but eventually scribbled something on her list.

Zeke smirked, rather proud of his quick thinking. However, it seemed that not everyone shared his feelings.

“What? Why?” Zeke asked. However, there was no response.

Soon after, the woman reached into a large barrel and retrieved a heavy iron badge with the numerals 66 carved onto it, pinning it to Zeke’s chest.

“Listen up,” she barked. “From now until the end of your training, your name is number 66. Is that clear?”

Zeke nodded mutely, whereupon the woman roughly grabbed his arm and shoved him past the checkpoint. Her grip was so strong that it might have crushed the arm of a regular person. Even for Zeke, the gesture had been quite painful, reminding him that he wasn’t a match for even a weak Chimeroi in terms of physical strength.

Lowering his head, Zeke walked past Ishaan and joined the other slaves inside the courtyard. Now that he was seeing it up close, the place seemed even more absurd. The stark contrast between the opulence on display and the impoverished state of the surrounding area was staggering, to say the least.

However, Zeke didn’t have the time to appreciate the bizarre sight for long, as the last of the slaves joined them before long.

“After me,” Ishaan ordered. He seemed a lot more relaxed now that they had safely arrived at the headquarters of the gang.

Zeke and the slaves followed Ishaan through a crude stone gate that seemed to lead deeper underground. After a few twists and turns, their group found themselves in a hall that was so large that it could effortlessly hold a few hundred people. Even their group, consisting of a few dozen people, only filled a fraction of the space, making the hall appear rather empty.

“Stand over here,” Ishaan ordered while pointing at a large ring carved on the ground.

The group obeyed without question, but Zeke's stomach turned the moment he stepped onto the ground inside the circle. He knew exactly what this was.

It was a Slave Ritual.