IX.

IX.

Veks heard the battle taking place three districts away, and though the whispers warned him not to go, he went to investigate, as he knew from the direction that it was happening near the Boys lair.

He wondered if it was lingering gratitude that drove him or some other unidentified desire, but whatever the cause, he gave in to his curiosity.

While he had expected something pretty devastating to be the cause of the cacophony of destruction, he had not expected to find half of Market West totally destroyed, three of its four bridges collapsed, and the remaining one being so congested with people that guards could only watch from afar, while buildings were toppled and earthquakes shook the city for kilometres.

It had been a mistake. The biggest mistake of his entire career as a Fleshcrafter.

Holm and his bone construct were gone, reduced to dust and imperceptible fragments. The Residential District, particularly the area near his first laboratorium, was a devastated crater, his well-disguised bakery servants there surely gone too, and all but the outermost buildings in the northern section of Market West was a ruin that seemed as though the aftermath of a years-long siege.

Who do you think is winning? Veks asked.

The Thief found them on the rooftop of a tall house in Breadbasket where Heskel had brought Jakob before his hideout was caved in.

Mercilla, Jakob replied without a doubt. Shes a Viscountess of Voracity, while Raleigh is simply a Squire-Lord of Devastation.

The tiny red one is

Raleigh.

Gotcha. Looks to me to be putting up quite a fight, honestly.

Veks was observing the mayhem through the telescope he had stolen from Jakob after he had been remade, and which Jakob himself had stolen from a fisherman.

He is not weak, but

Mercilla is impervious.

Exactly.

That blob-thing is the Viscountess-lady?

Yes.

And you made the body?

Yes.

And basically gave it to a super-powerful Demonette, because the contract that was supposed to make her subservient was interrupted?

Jakob let out of vent of spent air in frustration.

Sorry, boss. Im just trying to wrap my head around this.

I had no other option. He wanted the tomes.

Raleigh did?

No, my Grandfather. He sent Raleigh here.

Your? Wait, is he the Underking?

Heskel grunted disapprovingly.

He hates that title, Jakob explained.

By late evening, the people who had been able had fled from the district into Breadbasket and beyond, the majority hiding-out in Westgate, while the guards there struggled to maintain order amongst the thousands of displaced citizens.

With the only entryway into Market West cleared of people, the Adventurers Guild sent in many of their heavy-hitters to try to kill the two warring demons, or at the very least weaken their vessels, while Royal Guardsmen cordoned off the district. The Guild was to no avail however, and lost twelve of their highest-ranking mages within an hour, before the rest retreated.

A little after midnight, the destruction and unceasing fight came to an abrupt conclusion, and there was an eerie quiet blanketing Market West and its neighbouring districts.

Hoping to find both demons dead or catch the victor during a moment of weakness, the Guild sent in another team of mages, alongside a large unit of guardsmen. Not a single one of the people who entered were ever seen again.

So what now, boss? Veks asked contemplatively.

You are no longer beholden to me. Do as you wish.

Eh, I tried it on for a bit, but freedom is a bit boring, truth be told. With you, it seems life will continue to be entertaining, plus, I burnt through the coins you gave me.

Are you not a thief? Steal whatever you desire.

You dont get it, boss.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

I suppose I do not. Then, to answer your question, we head towards Market North. The richer districts will be more difficult to blend into, but I want to get into the Adventurers Guild. With that many mages at their beck-and-call, they will have knowledge that I can put to better use than their limited imaginations would ever consider.

Veks looked at the satchel within which was the few items that Heskel had managed to save from the decimation of the lab. None of it was worth anything to him.

Of all the things to save, you picked nothing that can persuade the guards to look away, just dusty books, flower seeds, and some random tools

Considering the haste with which he had to gather the items, I believe he did quite well.

Heskel grunted in annoyance. He was not used to running from a fight, but, then again, he probably did not stand much of a chance against two demons settling millennia-old grudges.

And the flasks of that blood I found for you?

Jakob clicked his tongue in frustration. The sound ominous, like the crack of a bone, thanks to his mask.

That is my construct, Heskel. He is mute. He guessed it was common knowledge that Magisters possessed magical beings as their servants, at least, he had often heard such said about them while employed under Toby in Market West.

The Wight grunted something that was quite possibly a warning that the Thief was overstepping his bounds, but he seemed cognisant enough to play along like his Ward.

Do you have a basement? Jakob asked the lady.

We do, but it is kept as storage space.

Before the boy could explain that he needed a place to dismember people in quiet, Veks replied, His work is very sensitive to the weather, and often comes with certain smells that would offend the denizens of the district, Im sure.

I see, I will have my servants clear out room for you.

Very good, Veks replied, feeling as though he had a handle on the situation again. May we have a look?

Of course!

The Apothecary was a two-storey, with a basement and an attic, which, when compared to the Thieves Den was quite an upgrade. The faade was an artful amalgam of stone and wood, with metal bars curled into fanciful patterns as window-shutters to prevent break-ins. It had a backdoor that led to a closed courtyard behind the building and an alleyway beyond its wooden walls. The basement had stairs leading down to it both inside the house, as well as in the courtyard, which seemed to please the Boy quite a lot.

The main floor was the shop, where rows of tall shelves stood stacked with herbs, powdered medicine, dried meats, and things in jars. The shop also featured a counter, a small backroom for private consultations and treatments, as well as display cases.

It seemed that whoever Hargraves was, he was a Magister quite proficient in alchemy and medicine-making, given the countless plants, hard pills, and powdered drugs the lady claimed he had sent them ahead of his arrival. Many of the items came with labels, written in Novarocian, Llemanian, Octef, and Heimlish. After all, the nobles often spoke at least two, three and sometimes even four languages fluently, and Market North also catered to foreign nobles quite often as well.

The language of Octef was the only one that Veks had seen before, but he was aware of the other two and their alphabets, though he only knew that they were the languages of the neighbouring nation-states: Lleman and Heimdale.

Octef, as its name implied, was the language spoken by the Clergy of the Eight Saint, who was worshipped across all of the continent, according to their sermons at least. Having never left the confines of the metropolis, Veks had no way of knowing whether this was propaganda or fact.

Do you know how to read these? he whispered to Jakob, when the lady, who had sold Hargraves the Apothecary, was busy ordering her sweaty-and-tired-looking servants to clear out space in the basement.

Of course, the Boy replied. Do you want me to teach them to you?

Veks considered it for a moment, but then shook his head, the hood of his robe momentarily blinding him as it shifted around. After correcting it, he replied, I can barely read Novarocian, so youd just be wasting your time.

But you speak Chthonic fluently? he replied, his voice not betraying suspicion, but merely straight-forward inquisitiveness.

I dont know when I learnt it, Veks replied, realising they were having their conversation in the foreign tongue.

It took me three years of daily intensive study to master it, and I still learn new things every day, but you wield Chthonic like a natural-born.

Before the Boy could dig any deeper into the mystery, the lady called them over to follow her upstairs.

The upstairs had a fancy bathroom, with a type of toilet Veks had never seen before, with a pipe that went through the building and straight to the sewers underground, and a bath that was hooked up to running water through similar, albeit thinner, pipes. Below the bath was a compartment for starting a fire to heat up the water within the large tub.

The bedroom held one enormous bed, the size of a dining table for eight, and with two stacked mattresses, a stainless and intact sheet, a duvet filled with pillowy feathers, a top blanket to make it look neat when not in use, and three large pillows.

When the lady asked, I hope it is to your standards, Veks almost replied that he had never before seen such luxury, even on his spending-spree with the hundreds of Novarins he had received from the young Fleshcrafter.

After clearing his throat, he replied haughtily, It will suffice.

The lady seemed to tense up at the implied insufficiency, but then Jakob changed the subject.

I will go prepare the laboratorium.

Veks nodded, but the lady quickly reprimanded the Boy, Is that any way to address your Master!?

The Thief froze, as though he was about to witness Jakobs tail unfurl and pulp the lady against the fine wooden wall of his new bedroom, but, to his surprise, the Boy bowed his head and said elegantly.

Magister, if you will allow my leave.

With a dismissive gesture, he sent him on his way, wondering if he would be punished later and sweat dripping down the inside of his stolen robe.

These creatures are quite amusing, Jakob remarked after they had killed the two servants in the basement and were busy setting up the various workstations they needed, not to mention clearing ample room for ritual circles on the floor. So easily swayed to believe falsehoods.

They are as automatons, following prepared plans.

Jakob considered the Wights words carefully, wondering if he was quoting something he had never himself heard Grandfather say, or if they were words of wisdom he had come up with. The latter made him somewhat uncomfortable, as it indicated quite a lot of autonomous thought, but then again, the Wight had already acted against his Creator, so perhaps he had evolved beyond his original design. It was simultaneously an enticing and worrying prospect, as Jakob, like any Fleshcrafter, feared his creations turning on him despite the many safeguards that should prevent such a thing in the first place. It was however quite possible that Heskel had disobeyed his Creator by also obeying his initial command to protect his heir, after all, letting Raleigh play with Jakob would go against Heskels directive.

Jakob took off his scent-mask, letting the coppery tang of the dead men in the corner wash over him, inhaling it slowly as though he was savouring the scent of a flower.

I need to know that Grandfather wont find this place.

His eyes see far.

Then help me blur their vision or hide us from his burning gaze. He will not relent until he has the tomes in his hands.

Heskel seemed conflicted for a moment, and rightly so, given what he was asking of him, but then he nodded slowly.

With the blood of their recent victims, the Wight began painting hideous runes on the walls; runes so awful that Jakob felt his gaze naturally wander when he tried to focus on them, as though they were the sun and staring directly would burn his retinas.

After about ten minutes, Veks came skipping down the stairs.

Have you seen? his gaze wandered across the room, his eyes twitching as he beheld the symbols, before it settled on the two bodies stacked on-top of each other near some empty crates.

With a sigh, the Thief-turned-Magister wandered back up the stairs, his prior enthusiasm suddenly deflated.

It seems they already left out the courtyard, Jakob overheard Veks inform the lady above.

We will need to soundproof this place, he told the Wight.