Chapter 896 A True Oracle

Chapter 896 A True Oracle

While Alex and Jack were having their discussion, another one was happening in a place not too far from them.

Across the island of Montreal, on the southern shore of its metropolitan region, in the burg of Candiac, a car was pulling up to a cozy manor-style house.

As they pulled into the driveway, getting checked by the guard at the large iron gate, the car was cleared to proceed and drove the few hundred meters to the house.

As they exited the car, a person awaited them on the steps to the front door.

"I thought I told you to bring back the druid, Angelo, Sergio. Where is my druid?" a tall woman asked them.

"Someone strong beat us to him, boss. He took out Ronny and Francesco in seconds. I never saw someone move that fast. We pulled away before he made us so he wouldn't know who called the shots. But we lost two men," the fatter one of the two said.

The woman looked at the two men, and then at the car.

"Did you make sure they were dead?" she asked, calmly walking down the steps.

"Pardon?" the same guy asked.

"Did you make sure our men were dead?" she reiterated.

"Boss... Ronny's head spun a hundred and eighty degrees, and Francesco's back bent backward, almost folding in two. They are dead..." the other man replied, his face like stone.

"But did you make sure they were dead?" the woman asked, her tone hardening as she slid her hand across the car, stopping at the trunk.

Her eyes narrowed as she stopped upon a specific spot, and she clicked her tongue.

"If one of them is still alive, the man who did this will assuredly find a way to make them talk. If you left a loose end, they might pull that thread back to us and make us out. That is, if that option is still even required..."

"Excuse me, Ma'am? What do you mean... We weren't followed; I made sure of it," the fat guy said, becoming nervous.

The matron of the Rossi family was not known for her pleasant side. She was cold, calculating, and ruthless.

If he had fucked up, things wouldn't turn out well for him.

Sliding her hand off the trunk, the woman turned her eyes northward as they clouded over white.

"Alexander Leduc, or rather, Astaroth. You are a dangerous man, if you can even be called that anymore. I had hoped to get your attention eventually, but not like this..." she sighed, her eyes returning to normal.

With a snap of her fingers, two men walked to her.

"Get rid of these buffoons. They compromised our position."

"Sit. Have a cup with me. It's been so long, my love," she said, looking at her second-in-command.

Maria's traits softened, and she took a seat.

"It has, hasn't it? We were so busy carving our place in the cruel world that we lost the time to enjoy the small things..." she said, a melancholic smile adorning her face.

"You won't need to go after Astaroth. He will come to us. Take the car the two morons drove back here, and set it in the middle of our roundabout, in plain sight. Let him know we know. But, later. For now, let us enjoy bliss and silence. Together. For old times' sake."

Maria nodded, keeping her mouth shut, before pouring them each a cup of tea.

She took a sip, and the soothing flavour calmed her.

It had been a while since they enjoyed peace and quiet, ever since Amara had discovered what was to come.

Maria had been so lost about what to do the first time Amara had a vision.

The absolute horror that Amara had seen had sent her into shock, and she lost her appetite for days. Even looking at Maria had been hard for her.

Like she had seen something that tarnished her view of the world. Tainted it in blood.

Amara's first vision had been of a time not too distant in the future, either. A time when the sky ripped in half with golden light before a torrent of red beings washed out of it, killing everything in sight.

A vision in which Maria never made it past the first wave of demons.

Fortunately, she quickly understood the purpose of her visions, and was able to change many things. The first one being getting Maria to play New Eden.

Once the mana finally leaked into their world enough, she got them both to cultivate it. That was how they had become strong.

How they had risen from being poor girls selling flowers to being heads of a mafia family.

It had taken a toll on their outlook on life, but such was the price of survival, they told each other.

Many times had the vision that Amara saw changed since then. And every time it changed, more and more people fought back.

It was like the pieces that were originally pawns were slowly turning into towers, knights, and jacks—like someone was flipping the rules of this cruel chessboard.

Amara knew it wasn't her doing. Yes, she had changed a few pieces, but not on this scale. This was much bigger than her reach.

Much more profound. Like someone who knew the entire picture was moving pieces from the shadows.

She had yet to find out who, but if she were to guess, the three people in her most recent vision were the most likely candidates.

'I'll find out. One way or the other.'