Chapter 14 - 3 - In The Dead Of The Night (1)

Chapter 14: Chapter 3 - In The Dead Of The Night (1)

It was exactly midnight when I, Elise, strolled down the dark alley, the sharp click of my black stilettos echoing on the cobblestone pavement. The full moon cast its glow, revealing three figures hiding in the shadows.

"Took you long enough, Eclair," one of the men in the middle, seated in a wheelchair, remarked. He leaned in, allowing me to see one ember eye as the rest of his face remained shrouded in bandages, lit by the moonlight.

"It looks like that man really did a number on you," I said with an amused tone.

The man in the wheelchair scoffed, his ember eye narrowing at me, the dim moonlight casting an eerie glow on his scarred face. "This is just a temporary setback."

I couldn't help but chuckle, my voice a sultry symphony laced with a hint of mockery. "Temporary? From where I'm standing, it looks like a permanent downgrade."

His grin widened, revealing a set of sharp teeth that glinted in the shadows. "You always did have a sharp tongue, Eclair. But let's get down to business. I've got a proposition for you."

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"We need your skills, your... expertise," he said, gesturing to the dimly lit surroundings. "The underworld is changing, and we need someone who can adapt."

I smirked, knowing there was more to this than met the eye. "Adaptation comes at a price. What's in it for me?"

The man's ember eye gleamed with a sly glint. "Protection, power, and a taste of the pleasures this world has to offer. Join us, Eclair, and you won't regret it."

I considered his offer, the allure of the dark side calling out to me. "Maybe, but I don't play second fiddle to anyone. Remember that."

He chuckled, the sound resonating through the alley, echoing like a dark hymn. "You were never meant for a supporting role. We want you at the forefront of this new era."

To be honest, the proposition was tantalizing. If I took a leading role in this underworld transformation, the chances of finding my younger brother would skyrocket. However, caution held me back. This man, a master of betrayal, spoke with a silver-tongued persuasion. I couldn't simply accept what spilled from his lips.

"You seem a tad guarded," he observed.

"Who wouldn't be, especially when dealing with someone like you?"

The man chuckled. "Do not worry. What I'm telling you is the unvarnished truth this time."

I cast a furtive glance at the two men flanking him, their shadows dancing in the dimly lit alley, before returning my gaze to him.

"I reckon you can gauge the might of that man just from the injuries I've endured. But, if it's to satisfy your curiosity, I can elaborate... Truth be told, I have no clue about his true strength. He toyed with me like a puppet, effortlessly controlling me even as I exerted every ounce of my skill. I pushed myself to the brink, almost to the point of self-destruction, and yet, he never went all out."

"...He restrained himself when you were at your limits?" I queried, genuinely puzzled by this revelation.

"That's right. I threw everything in my arsenal at him, and still, I couldn't land a hit. Couldn't even get close. His power... it felt akin to waging war against the very essence of darkness itself."

His solitary hand, ensconced in blood-soaked bandages, clenched with such intensity that the fabric itself reddened, evidence of lingering wounds that still bled.

"He mocked me, you know," he rasped, his voice tinged with the bitterness of that haunting encounter. "Dancing around, effortlessly evading and deflecting. All the while, that damned smile never left his face. I'll never forget the frustration that consumed me, the sheer powerlessness. I, renowned as the underworld's strongest, reduced to a pawn in a man's twisted game."

His gaze bore into mine, and the bandages seemed to drink in more and more crimson, saturated with the weight of his words.

"But... the true helplessness engulfed me when he unleashed a magic spell beyond my comprehension. It was like facing the might of a monstrous entity," he uttered, the words hanging heavy in the air.

I listened in silence as he recounted the tale of his futile struggle against a force that seemed beyond mortal comprehension.

"He played with me, toyed with my every move as if I were nothing more than an insect," he continued, his one visible eye reflecting a mix of anger and resignation. "No matter what I did, it was like trying to grasp smoke with my bare hands. And then, the magic... I can't even find words to describe it. It was as if a colossal beast had awoken, and its sheer presence overwhelmed me."

The moonlight cast an eerie glow on the scene, emphasizing the grim reality of his injuries and the torment he had endured. The air seemed thick with the echoes of his struggles.

"Even now, as I stand before you, I can still feel the remnants of that dark magic lingering within me," he confessed, a haunted look in his eye. "I've been broken, physically and mentally, and I fear I may never fully recover."

Recovery seemed an elusive specter, drifting out of reach for him both physically and, judging by the visible tremors, mentally as well. How had someone managed to bring down the supposed strongest member of the underworld? And if this enigmatic figure truly existed, what inscrutable motives fueled his actions?

"I've got another question for you."

The man in the wheelchair ceased his trembling, as if snapping back to reality. Despite this, a lingering unease still haunted his lone eye. "Go ahead. Ask away."

I drew in a deep breath before continuing, "What did he call himself?"

I was aware of the titles bestowed upon him by the underworld—virtuoso, playwright, showman—all signifying a mastermind and performer of grand spectacles. But I sought his true name, if he had divulged it to this man. Yet, the man shook his head, indicating that no such revelation had occurred.

"...But," he added after the decisive shake, "he left me with a dire warning. The reason I still draw breath is to relay a message to the underworld. He proclaimed that a day would come when only one king would reign in this world. Those donning the guise of kings should renounce their titles, lest they incur the wrath of the sole and undisputed monarch."