The echo of hammers and clanging metal filled the lower halls of Whitespire. Alchemists worked tirelessly, transmuting gold bars into what appeared to be threads that ran through cracks in the ancient walls like veins of molten sunlight. The repairs were nothing short of monumental as whole sections of the castle had been compromised, and the Ember-blessed architecture demanded gold as a binding element to fuse stone and spirit together.
Unfortunately, the ratio was brutal.
Days had passed since the heist, and the palace treasury, though once heavy with glittering bounty, was now thinning faster than Margo's patience.
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"Fucking hell," Margo snapped, tossing a ledger onto the armrest of her throne. "At this rate, we'll end up pouring every single bar into this goddamn castle."
Across from her, Eliot lounged in his own throne with his eyes tracing the fractured ceiling above. "Well, technically," he said with mock serenity, "it's more of a divine investment. You know into our aesthetic immortality… Fuck Ember."
One of the royal staff members, a prim, balding man with a scroll tucked under his arm, cleared his throat nervously. "Your Majesty, Queen Margo, uhh these are the essential expenditures required to maintain Whitespire in its utmost condition. It is… the most logical course of action."
Eliot arched a brow. "Most logical, you say? And yet the flickering lights above us haven't stopped flickering, have they?"
"Ah, well no, Your Highness," the staffer admitted, before the sloth in the room on a tree close to another royal staff name Rafe muttered to him and he started sweating under the sloth's lazy gaze from its perch. "That particular issue is tied to the Wellspring's power fluctuations. It wasn't included in the initial alchemical reconstruction plan."
"Fucking twats," Margo muttered.
The sloth blinked slowly, leaned toward the Rafe, and whispered something indecipherable into his ear.
"His Eminence agrees with you, Your Majesty," the man said quickly.
Margo threw her hands up. "Finally! Logic in this room. From a sloth, no less. Take notes, everyone…at least he gets it."
Eliot gave a tired laugh. "For once, I completely agree."
Eliot straightened in his throne, brushing a lock of hair from his face. "So," he said, his tone turning businesslike, "how long until our armies are fully armed and ready?"
Tick, who had been standing with the war map, adjusted his stance. "The forging and acquisition of materials are… ongoing, Your Highness."
The other staffer piped up, with his voice thin and hesitant. "And, um, it's rather uhh—"
Margo leaned forward, her tone sharp. "What then? Speak up. Why are you croaking like a dying toad?"
"Expensive," the man blurted out finally.
The sloth mumbled again, and Rafe, translated dutifully. "His Eminence says… why not use cheaper materials?"
Tick looked mortified. "While that is… an option, Your Majesty, inferior materials would drastically reduce battle capability. Blades would dull faster, armor would buckle, and morale would—ah—decline alongside them."
Margo rubbed her temple. "God, all these expenses. This wasn't in the handbook of being king."
"War is very expensive, Sire," Tick said with grim politeness.
Eliot exhaled and nodded. "Don't I know it." He stood up and walked over to see the map with Tick, "What of Loria?"
Tick hesitated, then responded, "Loria has begun mobilizing their troops. Their forces are advancing but they're struggling to cross the tributaries near the Wellspring. The magic disruptions have withered their crops, and their food supply lines are unstable. Their riders have to travel back and forth constantly to transport rations."
Eliot turned to Margo, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. "Well, that's… interesting, isn't it?"
Margo smirked, twirling a gold coin between her fingers. "Oh, I'd say it's more than interesting, El. Sounds like our neighbors are about to choke on their own logistics."
Eliot's grin widened. "And here I thought the day couldn't get any brighter."
Margo leaned forward, eyes glinting like sharpened glass. "Maybe it's time we send a little… helpful intervention their way. You know, generous monarchs and all that crap."
Eliot laughed softly, the kind that carried both charm and danger. "Ah, Margo… I do love it when your diplomacy comes with a knife."
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"Yeahhh… this can't keep happening, y'know."
Kai's voice broke the silence as he stood with his hands in his pockets, staring down at what used to be an office and now looked more like a slaughterhouse. The metallic tang of blood clung to the air. It was thick, heavy and old enough to have lost its shine.
Beside him, Travis stood with his usual frown, hands on his hips as he surveyed the mess. "I thought this one would be easier than the last, boss," he said in a tone that was far too dismissive for the scene. "But I guess there's shitty luck involved in everything, huh?"
Kai gave him a look of mix disbelief and silent judgment.
Travis noticed and shrugged. "What? You're the one who said to expect the unexpected. Just didn't expect this."
He pointed lazily toward the far corner.
That's where Marina stood, frozen in front of a desk splattered with blood. The woman slumped against it had her insides out literally and her glassy eyes stared at nothing. The floor beneath her was slick crimson.
"Hey, boss," Travis murmured, "Why's she just standing there like that?"
Kai sighed. "I take it the two of you were close, Marina?"
Marina jumped at the sound of his voice. She hadn't noticed him approach. Her lips parted before she managed to speak. "You could say something like that."
Kai nodded slowly, stepping closer and crouching beside the body. "Didn't I tell you to tell your people to use protective wards? Or at least a basic location concealing charm? This is exactly what I warned about."
Marina's tone was tight. "The current of magic's unstable. Most of the hedge witches can't cast proper wards. The protective spells collapse mid-cast, or they just fail." She gestured toward the corpse. "Like this."
Kai exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Fantastic. So we're working with a magical flu and an enemy who's apparently smarter than all of you combined." He gestured loosely to the carnage. "Love this for us. Really. Peak team efficiency."
Travis snorted but Marina didn't.
Kai stood, brushing his hands together. "So…" He turned to her. "How does one hunt the hunter again?"
Marina frowned. "What?"
"You heard me," Kai said, pacing slowly. "You're the prey. The hunter's already taken a bite out of your numbers. So, how do you hunt something that hunts you?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he started talking as if explaining a story only he fully understood.
"See, a hunter always has two weaknesses which are the pattern and pride. They think they know their prey too well in which case they usually do but they move a certain way, circle a certain area, and when they strike, it's from confidence and not caution."
He paused, then smiled faintly. "You know, like Travis when he's trying to flirt."
Travis blinked. "Hey, what the hell, man?"
Marina gave Kai a deadpan look. "And this story's going where exactly?"
Kai glanced back at her. "Impatient, aren't we?"
He then raised his index flicking upward slightly and the air shifted.
The blood in the room began to stir. It peeled away from the floor, the walls, the desk, as though gravity had stopped applying to it. Droplets merged midair, swirling into slow, liquid ribbons that coiled around Kai like snakes.
Travis took an involuntary step back, his eyes catching a faint pulse of black veins that flashed briefly across Kai's irises.
Marina's voice dropped. "What are you doing?"
Kai didn't answer at first. He turned his head toward the corpse, eyes narrowing slightly. "Bait," he said simply.
And then the blood swirled into a blob of floating mass above their head until it almost seemed alive. Kai lifted his hand, and one thin tendril slithered downward, curling toward his open mouth. Without hesitation, he let it sink between his lips.
The sound was a faint, wet, and disturbing.
GULP
Marina's stomach churned. Her mind whispered what she already knew once more to her, 'He's not human. He's not supposed to be doing that…how disgusting.'
Her skin prickled with goosebumps, and when she met Travis's eyes, she saw her own unease mirrored in his... weirdly enough seeing as he was exactly what his boss was. Both of them stood frozen, watching the blood vanish into Kai like it was being absorbed by something hungry.
Kai finally exhaled, his tone returning to its usual dry ease. "Now then," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Shall we start the hunt for the runt of the litter?"
He frowned. "Because I'm getting bored of this cat and mouse game."
He started walking toward the exit. "Oh, and…"
He snapped his fingers.
The corpse burst into flames, consumed by blue fire. It consumed flesh and blood in its body in seconds, leaving nothing but a faint shimmer of ash on the air. The desk, chair, and papers remained untouched.
Marina stared, wide-eyed. "What… was that?"
Kai looked over his shoulder at her. "That," he said, "is the law of the jungle. You either bleed, or you make them bleed for you."
He paused in the doorway, eyes glinting faintly.
"You, Marina are the blood. So all we have to do is make sure the next time that hunter comes for you or your's we make sure he ends up choking on it."
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