[???? Smooth Criminal – Michael Jackson.]
GISELLE NOVA IMPERIA LAUGHED TO something a braggart Baron was saying. The man's reflecting golden eyes was undoubtedly faerie. He was her kind. But the laughter didn't reach her eyes. Her smile was quick to dissolve as her gaze rounded the corner to the windows flanking the glittery hall.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she gazed out into the maleficent darkness without, taking a soft sip of her flute of fine Eldorian ale, fabled milk of the gods, as she tried to remain calm and pray to her Wiccan gods for the safety of the Earl who she might just have sent to his end.
Giselle knew very well there was a loathsome creature out there. But she didn't know exactly what species.
She had only said Striga because it was the first thing that came to mind after she'd seen the slashing clawmarks in the Woods. She hoped it was nothing bloodier—for the Earl's sake. She rather liked the man. Even now, she could see the faintly hued silhouette of he and his comely missus, she assumed, stalking out the grounds of the villa to the spot she'd described.
"Heaven help them!" The Queen muttered under the rim of her wine flute.
In the darkness outside the Penderghast mansion, Rafel the Bloodthirsty strode with his slave a few steps behind, down the trimmed lawn field that marked the villa's backyard. The mana in the air dropped the moment he passed over the wards. But then rose again, considerably, when he approached the shadowed treeline Her Fey Majesty had luxuriously pointed them to.
Whenever the ambient mana level of a place rose, it signaled the presence of a formidable magical creature.
Mages didn't emit mana unless they were locked in battle and using. But say a unicorn? These creatures with magic inherent in them gave off mana like a crystal ball's radiation. An Archmage could discern the type of creature just by sensing the ambient energy it gave off.
Since Rafel was no Archmage, he settled with opening his [Third Eye], an epic level ability that granted him visual access to everything from veins in the earth crust to leylines of magic. Still, as he looked with the greenish vision, he could not draw conclusion.
However, he doubted a Striga could give off this kind of essence.
"Look sharp." He called behind to Aya Naamah as they neared the only structure in the thicket of trees.
It was an abandoned ramshackle Cabin barely standing up straight in the arctic gale. The wooden door was loose planks and hung off its shingles, creaking eerily whenever the wind picked up.
Rafel looked down, honing the hunter skills he used in Hell when chasing a bounty, to find large foot imprints in the sand. Gingerly, he lowered the polished shoe of his right foot into the print. The hole completely swallowed it in. And Rafel knew only few men had his bulk.
So this wasn't a man.
He lifted his foot away, noting that the footprints were all spiked at the toe area, like the prints of a wolf. They all showed movement going into the Cabin. But none coming out.
Rafel stopped walking altogether about ten feet away from the creaking door.
Aya moved up to take his side.
Opening his Runic Summoning System, Rafel called for his weapon. But unlike in the arena with Agaliath, he didn't summon double swords. This time, he pulled out from thin air, his [Demon Grasp] sieving through the mortal plane—a huge broadsword which had length almost as tall as Aya.
The blade of it was double-edged and dripped with deadly swirling black, doused in the venom of his Serpent symbiote. A single cut demanded fatality. Its middle was run through with a fiery dip that flamed the entire sword when he wished.
Rafel let the [Hallowed] broadsword fall to the earth, and merely dropping to the dirt gave off a resounding echo. Sands danced up at his charcoal shoes. Beside him, Aya marveled at how her Lord Master was able to so easily wield a weapon that was clearly her weight in one hand.
"Alright, then!" Rafel raised his voice towards the Cabin. "You better be coming out, or I am coming in."
When nothing but the wind moved, Rafel grinded his teeth. He was not going to be made a fool of by a C Rank shit.
"STRIGA?!" He yelled.
His voice boomed in the forest, scattering crows perched up in the tall trees, reaching all the way to the villa to turn a few heads.
Rafel soon heard a scratching sound coming out from the Cabin, like the noise of a great beast rising in the looming darkness. "There you are," he scolded grimly.
"I am no fucking Striga, you hornless arse-wipe!"
The returning voice was deeply monotonous. More of a roar actually.
Striga didn't fucking talk, mused Rafel. They were incapable of sounds other than shrieking and growling.
Rafel stood solid on his heels as he heard the sound of heavy footfalls on the wailing floorboards. The accursed silhouette of a beast emerging completely ripped out what remained of the Cabin's door. And out, into the vestiges of the full moon spearing in slanted rays through the forest canopy, stepped a great magical creature.
Hint! It was no fucking Striga.
The entire Cabin shook in it's foundations, crumbling behind it. The cold wind blew the wave of dust into shimmery moonlight.
Rafel's mouth was fallen open.
"Er, Lord Master!" Aya commented with wide eyes. "That is—"
"A Sphinx."
Rafel completed for her.
As if on cue, the Sphinx let out a strange great yowling. It sounded equal parts bird screech and lion roar. It's wings fluttered in the clearing, mighty feathers raising up a whirlwind.
Are you shitting me? He cussed in his head. He would have words with the Fey Queen on his return.
"Yes! I am a fucking Sphinx!" roared the creature. The way he used the word 'fucking' sounded like he actually meant 'royal'.
Rafel didn't know which he hated most in Sphinxes. Their metaphysical egos, or their damned ability to talk. And the gilded fucker had called him an arse-wipe!
A Sphinx was a Superior B-rank. It was held above the Beserkers and Maulers, because coupled with its Hell Origins, it had pure untainted magic running in its literal gold veins. It was a creature of destruction and creation. This, made it special, distinguishing it above the other Rank B Hellions. A Sphinx could also fly up to the mortal realm like...whenever.
This leveled up his Arcane Rune to approximately 1.5 million souls. That was a lot in the mortal realm. And now, he could happily add Sphinx Killer to his resumé.
[Ding!]
[RANK: Earl (Beast Tamer)]
When Aya took his gold-bloodied arm and nestled into his chest, Rafel didn't stop her. He was in a good mood.
Since the Sphinx was not of the mortal realm, its corpse immediately decomposed into bright fragments that dispersed in the wind. The gold, however did belong to earth. And so it remained, yet another bounty for Rafel to claim.
"Let's get to the Queen, shall we?" Rafel smiled down to Aya.
Giselle Nova Imperia was already waiting by the shadowed back corridors of the villa. Seeing the Earl and his missus appear out the treeline afar off, she squinted into the darkness. The large man appeared to have an uncanny glow to his frame. Something that wasn't there before.
If anything, Giselle was happy he was alive as she hurried out the yard to him.
It was near midnight as Rafel approached, and he noticed a few of the hundred windows in the villa were now dark, with curtains drawn. Several of the partygoers must have retired then. He soon found the Queen herself flying out in her blinding gold regalia to him, her profile strangely stark and beatific as she rushed out across the field.
They met in the middle.
The moon hid briefly behind a dense cloud.
Giselle paused, stopping herself from hugging him.
"Your Grace! You're okay. Thank the gods!" She sighed. When Rafel didn't smile, she added. "I'm sorry?"
Rafel looked at her hard and she noticed his face powdered in gold flecks. His eyes still held an infernal crimson glow. To Rafel, the gods had fucking nothing to do with his victory.
"That!" He pointed out behind him. "—was no fucking Striga."
Queen Giselle regarded him with apologetic eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I thought...what was it?" She turned to Aya.
"A Sphinx, Your Majesty." Aya replied formally. But her tone was curt.
"Fuck! I'm so sorry." Giselle kept saying.
But when her eyes roamed back to Rafel, she viewed him in a new light. The man had battled a Sphinx and he was barely sweating.
Shit! Now she knew he was not just an Earl.
One had to keep an entity like him close.
"May I?" Giselle suddenly said.
Rafel had no idea what she meant to do, but he nodded to her golden pupils.
The Fey Queen leaned in, lifting on the tips of her toes, planting a kiss on his lips.
Her mouth was soft and when Rafel breathed in, he smelled mulberries and sunshine. Giselle errantly licked at his lower lip—even though for the spell she had cast it was not needed—before pulling away.
Rafel narrowed his eyes at her impromptu liplock.
"It's a blessing. A Fey Blessing. Whenever you're in danger, I will be able to feel you. It also grants me access to your location at such time, and to see through your eyes if the situation demands." Giselle explained.
Wow! Rafel contemplated.
An Epic Sphinx armor.
1.5 million souls.
And a Fey Queen's Blessing.
All in one night.
He was such a smooth criminal among these lot.
"There's a gift for the Crown's coffers about ten feet from a collapsed Cabin in the forest. A gift," Rafel stressed. "...for Her Majesty."
"Well, thank you, Your Grace." Giselle picked up her skirts, dipping daintily.
"My pleasure, Your Majesty."
"I do hope to indulge it the next time we meet." The Queen flirted.
Turning his head with a cold smile, Rafel nodded once and started towards the front of the villa where his carriage lay. Giselle didn't stop staring at his gold-painted apparition until he vanished from her view.
At Dawn, when she commanded her guards to fetch the 'gift' the Earl had so generously donated, she found a Sphinx's loot. But not just any loot, its entire fucking essence. The gold filled three carts and two drums.
"To the Earl of Emberfall!" She found herself toasting with a smile in privacy.