The Lord was on the ground, bleeding. The metallic, sticky scent of blood was an almost ironic aroma of finality.
Leornars was perfectly composed, seated on the elegant sofa. His foot was crossed, his attire impeccable—black trousers and a white, long-sleeved jumper. The crimson crescent moon necklace and the red dragon earring glittered. He took a delicate sip of his tea, his eyes casually flicking between the twitching, dying man and his two distraught daughters.
"Hmm... this is odd," Leornars mused, setting the cup down. Too messy for the optics. Killing him in front of them isn't ideal for the long-term plan.
The Lord began his desperate, rambling confession: the slave trading, the raids, the Pollium Syndicate—it was a sprawling, international mess. Leornars simply smirked.
"How... amusing," he murmured, already bored by the standard villain monologue.
The man, however, wasn't done. He used his dying breath to rail against the inevitable.
"I know I've wronged my people, but they were nothing more than disgusting demi-humans! Humanity is the superior species! The filthy demi-humans are only supposed to be our slaves!" the Lord shouted, his voice cracking.
Leornars's expression finally shifted. The casual amusement vanished, replaced by a cold, still intensity.
"You pissed me off," Leornars stated, rising from the sofa. The stern, flat tone was a reflex honed by years of dealing with insufferable arrogance. "I'll now kill you."
He walked toward the terrified man, his dagger ready. He preferred efficiency over drama.
Before he could strike, a figure erupted from the shattered window, grabbing the Lord. The assassin was fast, clearly intending to flee with the target's body. Leornars threw his dagger; it deflected off the figure's barrier with a sharp clink. The figure glanced at the bounced blade. That was its mistake.
Leornars was already on top of the Lord. His second dagger plunged into the man's skull. He pulled it out and stabbed him once more on the throat, just to be sure. Finality is key.
The assassin, having failed its retrieval mission, let out a frustrated sound and lunged. "Die!" it shouted. It was a blur, faster than Leornars expected, and had the clear advantage in momentum.
In less than a second, an emerald blur intercepted the attack. Stacian materialized and delivered a powerful kick to the assassin's jaw.
"I felt something bad was happening so I rushed here," Stacian explained, adjusting her stance.
The assassin, realizing it was outnumbered by two individuals who were clearly beyond its pay grade, swallowed a pill to kill itself. It was the mark of a dedicated professional. Too bad for him, Leornars and Stacian had already erected a subtle purification barrier. The fast-acting poison was instantly cured. The figure looked at them in pure, horrified fear.
Leornars grabbed the man and dragged him out to the desolate field. He needed information. He looked down and saw the assassin had already bitten off its own tongue.
"Tsk!" Leornars clicked his tongue in annoyance. Fine. The hard way, then.
The figure began to laugh—a wheezing, wet sound.
"You think this is funny?" Leornars asked, his voice deceptively calm. "I sincerely hope you love laughing at the face of death."
Leornars's suppressed rage was now boundless. It was time for the ultimate tool of coercion.
"From the depths of hell, the guardian of damnation mocks the righteous. From the cries of the unknown, the endless cry unforgiven by the Lady of Sins. Cries, echoes, and false words may not be forgiven. I call thee... Gate Keeper!"
A colossal metallic statue, pure black, its surface weeping black tears, rose from the earth. Moans began to echo. The terrifying, thousands-of-feet-tall statue held a stone tablet, and as the final words were spoken, it let out a piercing scream. Chains with spikes erupted from its form.
"No matter what you do, you cannot fight against the Lady of Death. Age rules upon the depths of the underworld. Your soul will be torn, cut, and erased. There will be no cycle of rebirth or reincarnation for you. I cast you out of this world... Begone!"
The figure, witnessing the sheer impossibility of the statue, sweated profusely. It was instantly grabbed by the chains.
I have mastered the Gate Keeper and didn't need the incantations, Leornars thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at the theatrics. But it's mandatory for me to invoke fear to the person so they can blub all they know.
He squatted down to the screaming, shackled man. "Another manipulation 101," Leornars thought, summarizing his own twisted philosophy. Brag about something you have that the person needs, something extremely important to them like their lives or beloved. They'll crumble fast and you take advantage over them. I call it 'Leroy's Twister.'
"It was Luranios, it was him! He sent me!" the figure screamed, his will finally shattered.
"Thank you for the information," Leornars said in a cold tone, standing up. "Although I have no idea who he is, I don't care either."
"I'm useful, I can help you!" the man pleaded, selling his expertise in murder and assassination.
"Huh? I have no need for you," Leornars replied with undisguised disgust. "You are as useful as a wet slice of bread to me. Something even a parasite can't eat."
Leornars looked down at him. "I did say I will kill you, and I never lie." He lowered his voice, the chilling finality striking the man harder than any physical blow. "Before you die, know DESPAIR."
The purgatory chains wrangled the figure, revealing that beneath the specialized gear, he was a regular human. The figure was instantly torn apart, and its soul was erased.
"No afterlife for you, filth," Leornars muttered. "If you had come clean and told me what I needed to know, I'd have only broken your arm and let you go. But you played the clown in my circus."
The Next Gambit
Leornars returned to the manor and found the Lord's daughters burying their father. Rachael Suvallina looked up, her expression a mix of grief and numb pragmatism.
"Even though he was a piece of shit, he was still our father," she said.
Marrielle Suvallina looked at the fresh earth. "I guess he was wrong. Humanity is not superior. Death is."
Excellent. The groundwork is laid.
Leornars sat on the sofa, sketching out his next geopolitical gambit. Stacian walked in, her crimson hair a splash of warmth in the cold room.
"Any plans, Lord?" she asked.
"Yes," Leornars said, the dark smirk returning. "Originally, I planned to kill Rachael, but her idiot father became the better target. I've gained a huge trust amount from her, but it's not sufficient. I did kill her father, after all. She doesn't fully trust me."
"So what are you going to do?" Stacian asked, confused.
Leornars handed her the highly detailed, thoroughly unethical plan.
"We'll cause a monster stampede," he explained, leaning back. "Let them come rushing to Vurnam. We help them. They already know the monsters are increasing, so we'll use that pretext. We help, we get a trading partner for our uprising, the IMPERIUM OF AVANGARD gets a new client, and we will be financially secure."
Stacian's eyes grew wide as she read the blueprint. "My, my, this surely is... interesting."
"I've triple-checked my plan," Leornars concluded, his satisfaction radiating. "And by far, I don't see any obstructions."