Ch. 127: Into The Serpent’s Den
As I made my way through the crowd, I bumped into a towering figure— a bull-like humanoid with huge tusks jutting out from either side of his mohawked head. His massive, bare chest was covered in wild tufts of hair, and a tubby gut poked outward. One of his filthy rats— scurrying along his belt— tried to snag something from my pocket. No doubt a pickpocket.
“Hey, watch it!” he boomed, his voice thick and menacing. “You better not make me mad.”
I raised my head slowly, fixing him with a cold, piercing glare. His smirk faltered, and within seconds, he began frothing at the mouth. His entire body seized up, and he collapsed to the ground like a sack of rocks, twitching but otherwise incapacitated.
*(You have used Dominator’s Aura
*(You have dominated a character by force — 200 dominator’s points added)*
*(The character has been incapacitated)*
Before I could process the act, a group of onlookers descended on him like vultures. They were humanoid beasts too, varying in shape and size. Some had wild, snarling expressions, others laughed maniacally as they ripped into his flesh with sharp, stained teeth. A few even fought over the choicest bits of his body, snapping and biting like rabid dogs.
The air reeked of blood and desperation, a testament to how far these beings had fallen. The lowest of the low, preying on anyone weaker than them.
“Tsk.” I clicked my tongue, disgusted but unwilling to linger. I moved forward, careful not to draw more attention to myself. The thought of staying in this wretched place was unbearable, but I had no choice. We had to find Anox.
“You know, that was uncalled for,” Arman muttered as he caught up with me. He slithered along beside me, his reptilian eyes gleaming in the dim light. “These people— this is just how they survive.”
“Are we there yet?” I asked impatiently, ignoring his comment. Arman was usually more judgmental of this sort of thing, but now he seemed oddly indifferent.
He nodded ahead toward the darker part of the market. A series of canopies stretched across the area, held up by weathered wooden pillars. Huge beastly figures lurked in the shadows, their scarred and bruised bodies visible only in the flicker of blue flames from the nearby torches. Some of them drank greedily from battered jugs, while others sharpened their rusted weapons in the flickering light.
The air here was thick with tension. This was no ordinary marketplace; it was a battleground, where only the strong and cunning thrived.
“So how do I know him when I see him?” I asked, repeating myself for the second time.
Arman barely glanced at me. “You’ll know.”
Vague. But that was typical of him.
We moved deeper into the maze of stalls and tents, and the atmosphere changed. The rowdy, chaotic energy of the outer market vanished, replaced by an oppressive silence. It was as if everyone here knew their place, an unspoken hierarchy hovering over the entire scene like a noose waiting to tighten.
Arman glanced at me with a frown. “Can you stop doing that?”
“Doing what?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Your aura,” he said, eyes narrowing. “It’s leaking. Has been for a while now.”
I blinked, caught off guard. My aura? I’d developed it a long time ago, sure, but I hadn’t paid it much attention recently. It was just… there.
“You might attract unwanted attention,” Arman pressed, his voice low. “If Anox senses your aura, he could flee. Or worse, someone else might recognize it. And when someone recognizes you here, you know it’s bad.”
He wasn’t wrong. But suppressing my aura wasn’t something I had ever had to deal with. Why hadn’t Hecate taught me this during our training sessions? Now that I thought about it, her lessons had been… lacking in certain areas.
I stared ahead, contemplating my options. Arman was right. If I could not get my aura under control, I would jeopardize the mission. But how was I supposed to suppress something that I barely understood? I tried focusing inward, imagining the aura as a flame burning in the pit of my stomach. I visualized it shrinking, dimming, but instead, the flame roared to life, consuming me whole.
Suddenly, my aura burst outward, enveloping the entire area. The once-quiet market erupted into chaos. People screamed, darting in every direction. Some dove for cover while others stared at each other with a mixture of fear and awe.
“What the hell!” Arman yelled, his voice rising in panic. “You just made it worse!”
I cursed under my breath, fumbling for a solution. The only thing that I thought would be of help was the black book. Without thinking, I pulled it from my jacket, and the moment my fingers touched its worn cover, my aura stabilized. The wild energy retreated, and the market quieted once more. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was close,” I muttered.
Arman shot me a furious glare. “Close? You almost blew our cover, you defective god. Even you can’t control your own powers anymore? You’re lucky no one realized it was you.”
We pressed on, moving deeper into the labyrinth of stalls. I kept my head down, my aura tightly controlled, thanks to the black book. Silence stretched between us, neither of us wanting to draw more attention than we already had.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Arman stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened, nostrils flaring.
“I got him,” he whispered.
“Hmm?” I leaned in, trying to catch his meaning.
“It was hard to track his scent here, but I found him.” Without waiting for a response, Arman darted forward, slithering through the crowd with renewed speed.
Now that was strange, I thought dogs were good at scents not snakes.
I followed, weaving through the throng of bodies, but the deeper we went, the more congested the market became. I could barely keep up with him. The crowd was thickening, and Arman was disappearing into the sea of people. Just as I was about to lose sight of him completely, I heard him shout.
“Anox!”
The name echoed through the air, causing heads to turn. My heart sank. Why the hell had he shouted? I thought we’d sneak up on him, but no— Arman had decided to make an entrance.
Why was quit out of character of him.
I pushed through the crowd, finally catching sight of them. Anox stood there, his aged, wrinkled face framed by a long, greying beard. His eyes were weary but sharp, taking in the scene with the calm of someone who had seen it all. He looked eerily like Arman— only older, wiser, and far more dangerous.
“Ahh, nephew,” Anox said with a grin. “It seems you’ve finally found me.”
I kept my distance, blending into the crowd. Anox didn’t seem to recognize me as Arman’s ally, and that was good. I had the element of surprise on my side.
“I haven’t seen you since you were just a boy,” Anox continued, his voice dripping with mock affection. “Too bad you’ll be joining your father soon.”
Could it be that Anox was setting a trap for Arman?
Arman’s body tensed. “No,” he growled. “You’ll be the one to perish here.”
As the tension between them grew, the onlookers began to back away, creating a circle around the two. Some watched with gleaming eyes, waiting to scavenge whatever remained after the battle. Others whispered in excitement, no doubt hoping to profit from the fallout.
But then, just as the battle was about to begin, Anox’s eyes flicked to the side. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
“Ah, there he is,” he said softly. “My client.”
I felt a shove from behind, and when I turned, I saw him— the figure in the red mask.
“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath.
It was him.
Thank you for reading this far
If I revive a magic castle I will mass release 10 chapters
