The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 990: Great Purge

“Excuse you?”

“Drop the act,” he pushed off the wall, passed the array of innards, “-we’ve captured Zya for the empire. Now, will the gods occupy the capital city or must we act at our own discretion?”

“I doubt the Eipea empire will take part in any schemes. Besides, our part of the continent is little more than slums compared to the central land. Zya’s been captured, good news for all I think.”

“I highly doubt the people ought to accept such a lackluster story. We’ve got those of other affiliations who yet remain within the captured Capital city,” the flare of intrigue washed his visage. The astute Starix horned upon an orphan, “-you there,” he knelt and pointed, “-what’s your name and place of birth.”

“Rachie. I was born I don’t know. I guess I’m one of the people,” he watched through dirtied lids – brows and hair tied by mud, body, and clothes stained in filth.

“Why are you here?”

“I heard rumors of Inux town accepting refugees. Thought I could get my little brother admitted to the Childeo guild. I’m far too old.”

.....

“You’d planned on giving thy little brother to the guild and scurry to the dangerous world of adventuring?”

“Isn’t that the best course of action?”

“Depends,” rose a cynical crowd, “-how about you work for us,” offered Starix, “-you’re going to become the new head of the newfound family.”

“...”

“Trust me,” he said connivingly, “-all shall be well. Allow us,” the devil’s army surrounded the alley in shadows and murderous intent, “-we’ll take care of any obstruction.”

“What must I do?”

“Follow my orders,” narrowed Starix, “-I promise a relatively peaceful life. Is that sufficient?”

“I guess,” he accepted, “-my brother?”

“I’ll take him to the guild,” smiled a sincere Esh, “-he’ll be in the right hands with us. Don’t worry.”

“Okay...” he blinked. News would soon cross the seas and borders – reaching the many faction’s strongholds like bolts of lightning. Months in the making and minutes in writing – the announcement was ready.

From the three, Eipea, Aapith, and the Freedom League of Eron – the saint of Tharis, Queen of Eron, Paige the Merciless, had upon her desk a letter sealed in crimson wax. The somberly humid weather harshened on the letter. An oil lamp ambered, “-to the leaders across Draebala, my name’s Rachie of the Northeast. I hail from the town of Inux – one of few who survived the abhorrent assault by the Titan’s faction. Per the ancient tradition of ‘to the victor goes the spoil’ I hereby decree myself the lord of Zya and monarch of the whole northern region. We will be campaigning to vanquish any foreign elements. I hereby extend warm hands for parle. To the leaders and lords, I, Rachie, backed by the town of Inux, humbly offer a hand to those who wish to ally. Freedom League of Eron, I address this letter personally to thee, majesty. We’re tired of living under the feeble shadow of the royal family. Your rule was fair and just – however, the restrictions imposed went against thy very faction’s name. We wish nothing more than a stable environment for the people of Zayan D’olsak. Those wishing to impair my agenda will have to answer personally to my army.” Signed, his royal majesty of Zya, Rachie.

“INSOLENCE,” the table echoed, “-tell me, who is this new character and where does he fit?”

“My liege, we have little to no information about the northern region. After the titan’s invasion, you ordered our troops to scatter and retreat home. We’re currently stationed at the northwestern isle of Zome.”

“I know that, tell me about the new king...”

“We know they fought back the titan invasion from Inux, driving the enemy forces Zya wherein a hasty siege rose the flag of victory.”

*Tap, tap,* dust settled, “-report my liege.”

“Speak,” she horned onto a slab of meat, her sharp gnashes tore through flesh and swallowed.

“Rachie’s faction has captured all major cities across Zya, including trade ports. They’re also in the process of adding a border fee to traders and travelers.”

“How did they capture the cities?”

“The lords willingly pledged their allegiance.”

“Cool,” paused the queen, “-best we leave ’em to their affair. Zayan D’olsak’s finally off my hands. We don’t have to care for that worthless domain. Have a messenger sent to the Eipea Empire and Aapith Nation – time for us to formally announce an alliance against the Titan uprise.”

The retainer cordially bowed and exited her majesty’s office, “-why the pale impression,” inferred the prior messenger, “-you’re ill?”

“No,” returned the retainer, “-I’m very worried about how we’ll face the coming trials. I have a bad feeling about the Zayan D’olsak and the new lord of Zya, who’s now at a possibility of becoming king.”

“So, he’ll probably die by the harsh weather or something. That place is one bolstering a very low survival rate. I’m sure the battle was won on weather conditions and not to forget those damned demon beasts.”

“Hey, hush it,” gritted the servant, “-calling them by that moniker is taboo. Lest thee wish to be under the cross of the Demonlord, we best not anger them farther.”

“My bad, it slipped out. By the way, what is it about them that makes it so uneasy?”

“The way the lords yielded. It doesn’t fit. Well, best not think too much else I would fail as a servant to my queen. Catch you later, fair maiden of the south, may the wind carry your step.”

“You too, the ever-cautious butler, you too.”

Step back a few weeks ago, at a time of turmoil and scarceness of essential needs – Starix ordered the occupation of major trading routes and complete seizure of the ports. Inux and Zya were stocked on major products, an investment the tactician made uncaring to how it’d reflect on their reputation. Didn’t take long for riots and uprisings to force city residents into pressuring their lords.

“Done,” came a report, “-we’ve instigated riots at the major cities. What now?” observed the curious Rachie.

“We wait and watch,” Starix grinned, “-have the supplies stored. As for the Jeungo Seeds, are they ready?”

“Yes, we have stationed guards across many plantations. We’ve also instructed them not to arrest or use brutal force when villages try to steal.”

“Let them work for the food,” he said, “-a masterful scheme from the mind of Frederick the Great, the potato king.”

“I don’t get it?”

“A problem’s only a problem when people bring attention to it. The reverse can be said for valuables, people rank their views based on others – regardless if there are outliers, a majority will always confine themselves and become part of the crowd. Therefore, if I were to take a rock and say it’s a fragment from the gods – no one would believe me, no one. However, if I were to, let’s say, place the very same rock into a saint’s hand and have them say it came from the higher beings, the story would go down a completely different path. To control the masses one must understand needs and wants. One of the worse dictatorships from where I hail has controlled their population using hunger. Who in the right mind would think of escape when attention is on where they’ll obtain their next meal. In a way, I’ve essentially made us bait, not for the villagers, but the noble lord.”

“I see, why would they take the bait?”

“Lords are easy to manipulate, money or family, either one should suffice.”

Starix’s ingenious ways of thought turned Draebala into a massive chessboard. No matter the prestige associated with names and titles – the level of intrigued faced home made the game as if a toddler fighting a grandmaster. Tis then, an unsavory thought crossed his mind, ‘-king Igna knows how badly this land’s protection is against schemes and intrigue. People are focused on survival and don’t care about the other’s intentions. A culture of fear has turned wit and cunning into cowardice. He placed me into so many headache-inducing situations that I feel at ease playing the vile role of shadow leader. Honestly, master, you truly are the worse of the worst.’

Riots saw cities in ruin – just at the doors to lavish homes were to be broken – portals conjured for the safety of Inux.

Plu Oden opened the courtyard, “-welcome to Inux,” he said without drawing attention to the level of security. Soldiers of the Shadow Realm’s faction laid upon the castle walls, some walked in civilian clothes, and others brazenly held the fort – shooting at any incoming monster invasions. A warm banquet alleviated the noble of birth – famous lords and infamous tyrants shared a common hall.

“Starix, it’s done,” added Formle, “-most of the lords have been transported to the castle.”

“Good, let them have a moment of respace. Tonight’s the night where their worse nightmares come to truth.”

Cora and Yuria clambered out of a dingy and smelly dungeon, “-honestly,” he wiped his brow and yawned, “-so much work to capture children.”

“Starix’s lost it,” added Yuria, “-not that it matters. This is how a nobody becomes a king without the need for a war or legitimate claim. Soiree ought to be entertaining.”

The lovely hall brought soothing melodies, last the calming effect held no patience against the fouled mouth backwater nobles, “-the food’s awful!”

“We demand an audience with the leader of this banquet.”

Wiser men hurdled far from the centerstage; content on pouring standalone drinks. “-What do you think, Baron Ryuen – these men saved us from the jaws of death.”

“Right they did, or so they wish us to believe. Food and drinks so readily available, a strained atmosphere, and the look of despair on the retainers. This place reeks of malice. May my goddess guide me through this darkness,” he clenched his palms, “-and wash my soul from the taint of sin.”

“Baron Ryuen, you always were the religious one.”

“My goddess Syhton’s light I’ve followed since the little age of a troublemaker.”

An ominous clap brought the tapage to un ciel serein1. Three calm observers sipped drinks at a privately hosted bar, “-and here’s the entrance,” added Cora, “-come on, let’s have some drinks,” the party cheered silently. Rachie, dressed in a dark-blue military outfit inlaid with gold threads boldly made his entrance. He stood over the dancehall, at a place where one would raise a throne. The dyed golden locks, fake crystal clean gray pupils, and godly charm washed the room in a daze. Yuria naturally tapped her wand and smiled, “-have at it,” she sipped, “-let them have it.”

A complete opposite presence followed and overtook the unknown man, “-on behalf of lord Rachie, I welcome you nobles to a night of celebrations. As you see,” he snapped, the retainers swapped into military outfits, drawing weapons at the crowd, “-you’re now in a situation where any wrong move ought to begot death.”

“LIES!” fired an unfamiliar voice, *BANG!* instant death.

“There it is,” said Cora, “-the signal.”

“He’s very shrewd,” added Yuria, “-killing a puppet for sowing the seed of fear. What a scary idea.”

“Hate to be in their shoes,” added a slumped Kaleem, “-I’m done,” he laid head-down upon the counter, “-my stomach says no more.”

“Now that I have your undivided attention, please, my lord – speak a few words to the crowd.”

He stepped forward and glared, “-to the nobles of Zayan D’olsak, tonight’s the great purge. Many of you will die, many of you will be tortured, and lastly, some of you, and I give no assurance, might live – or be fed to the demon beasts. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Rachie Eldrictch, else known as le Chevalier Noire. I fought back the titan invasion and dove headfirst into the siege of Zya – killing titans as they came. Enough about my exploits, let’s talk about yours,” he coldly narrowed, “-if you don’t want to be killed or tortured, there but one option. Join my faction,” he lifted his arms, “-else,” Starix snapped and a guillotine summoned, “-as this young boy will shortly learn.”

“MY SON!” screamed from the back, “-LET HIM GO!”

“To the head of the Rontline family – here’s to justice,” the string snapped to an innocent head landing into a basket, “-cheers to revolution,” he cackled.