Chapter 3: Chapter 2 – Business

She was still shaking. The punch made a crunching sound that she didn’t want to remember. He was staring at her with his red distorted-ornate helm that covered his entire head leaving no gaps. Why was he staring at her? Her heart jumped and paranoia gripped her mind, was she going to be killed as well? She played the events back as fast as she could.

“Th-the others… Do you mean the other members of the Rapiers?” Eve said as she took a small frightened step backward.

“Yes.” His voice was scratched and sounded like there were two people talking. There was a part of it that sounded like his voice box was made of steel and a part that sounded inhumanely low. He must’ve been using magic. Though Eve could be convinced it was his real voice, Arrelyn was vast after all.

“Th-they sh-should be further inside.” Eve said. They were in Groundward Gorge and the Sheathed Sword was built into the walls of the Gorge itself. They were at the top floor of the building but it was the part that stuck out of the wall of the Gorge.

The man didn’t respond but he recognized her answer as good enough and he walked out of the room. He continued his gait, the same rhythm, it had no irregularity. She realized he would be killing everyone inside. She would no longer have to be under them, the thought made her eyes water. She gathered the courage and said.

“Thank you.”

But he was already out of sight and into the corridor of the top floor of the bar. The urge to leave compelled her. But not before taking what was hers and raiding their coffers.

She heard the music change down below, the sultry music turned into an energetic one. There was a mixture of drums, trumpets and stringed instruments. If she was on the first floor, she would likely see a visual performance as well. But the performance she wanted to see most was walking through the corridor.

 

---

 

He walked further in. The corridor was quite wide, having the capacity to have four men walk abreast. There were three rooms, one at both sides and another one at the end of the corridor. He commanded his presence to cover the entire corridor, the crimson haze signaling what was to come. He was definitely found out as he did that, he felt the warning enchantments activate as his territory touched it. He couldn’t hear what was going inside the three rooms in the corridor as they were soundproofed, magically and physically. He could only imagine the shocked movements they were making as they bumped the furniture to try and repel the invader.

He knew there were no escape routes, they were at the very bottom of the Gorge, where the sun was constantly blocked by the upper floors and bridges of the valley city. More importantly, because of the neglect, there were no extensive wall ways or alleys and shops on the bottom part of the Gorge and the Sheathed Sword was no exception.

The three doors opened simultaneously. The ones who could do magic, immediately tried and pushed his territory away. But their control was laughable. To him, it was comparable to that of a kid holding a sword, still quantity was a quality of its own and the three magicians of the group managed to salvage a quarter of the corridor's space.

The man saw ten men with haphazard outfitting of weapons and armor. It had no cohesion. They were no high guards of the council. Still, the quality of their equipment was unbefitting of people of their stature and the man in red armor, boiled in rage as he thought the amount of people they had to have coerced and violated to get them.

The men who went outside didn’t exchange pleasantries. He felt the same. They put themselves into a formation, though it was obvious they hadn’t really practiced any sort of organized defense. Only the vague notion of blocking any spells that might come from their only magicians and overwhelm him with numbers.

This should be the rest of them. I’ve already eliminated ten. That little rat did well for organizing these fools into one spot. The crimson armored man thought to himself.

The three magicians started their spell casting, if they didn’t push away the territory first, he would’ve had free reign to try and disrupt their casting. Worse than that, he could’ve just casted a spell faster than them and kill them easily. They all seemed nervous, the fact that they couldn’t just blow away his territory was enough to make them realize his strength.

The mages prepared their spells. Two of them almost fell to the burden of it, their nerves of facing a dangerous enemy distracted their focus on the connection of the senses and they almost knocked themselves out then and there. Though the mage with one eye managed to calm himself to where his spell casting wasn’t so dubious.

“Careful you louts. Tough guy over there has some strong magical capability. Charge when I give the signal.” A man said with one eye. He appeared to be the leader of this merry crew.

Nervous nods were shared all around. The man before them hasn’t made a single move, content to let them finish their preparations.

“As the Adjudicator. I sentence all of you to death. I have already killed half of your Rapier Gang, you shall follow them shortly.” The layered low metallic voice resonated throughout the corridor. “Especially you, Hart. I have a special place in hell for you.” The man known as the Adjudicator pointed to the man with one eye.

The three criminals were close to finishing their spells, they weren’t professionals and were quite slow in their casting. They were trying to solidify the main senses of their men including themselves and to make it harder to disorient them in any of their senses while also enhancing it. The man that called himself the Adjudicator didn’t seem to mind letting them finish. As they finished, the one with the single eye gave the signal and all nine of them charged except for the leader. He was preparing his own spell and his head became visible with bulging veins, the spell taking him to his limit.

The Adjudicator met their charge. It was better for momentum to be met with momentum. His speed, far more superior than any of them, had already closed the distance before they could get halfway in between them in his prior position.

Just before the crash, the Adjudicator released his own spell, on his penultimate step his already overwhelming speed spiked in its velocity. He crashed into the sorry thug who was in the middle, crashing along the man behind him with the force of a carriage pulled by great wolves going at full speed. The one that was directly charged died instantly, his internal organs ruptured by the violent crash, his armor doing nothing to save him. The one behind him, suffered the same fate but to a lesser degree, but he doubted he was going to survive the night even if the Adjudicator left now.

Ten was turned into eight. The remaining thugs, while scared, strengthened their hearts and attacked the Adjudicator. If they had a moment, they could’ve analyzed the threat and would be more likely to retreat, but they were already in the thick of it.

Simultaneous attacks went towards the man. Alongside with magically enhanced ones. From what the red-armored man could tell, there was one acoustician who enhanced his warhammer’s impacts with intense vibrations and another optician who tried to blind the Adjudicator with a flash of light.

The Adjudicator didn’t even move. He let the attacks go to him. A crash of steel savagely echoed throughout the corridor. While this was happening, Hart finished his spell. A torrent of air surged around him and he breathed it all in, his veins all over his body, bulging in effect. He did a small hop, the small action was unnaturally effective letting him clear a meter without effort, all of his actions were inhumanely fast. He conjured performance enhancing chemicals through his olfactory magic, fitting for a street rat like himself. Hart unsheathed his rapier, casted an imbue spell he was extremely familiar with to the point he was as fast as a professional olfactician in casting it. He crouched into a fencing stance and lunged for the Adjudicator.

But as they all saw. The Adjudicator was standing. None of the attacks broke through his haptic guard. He picked up two of the thugs by the jaw and crushed it instantly. Though as he did so, a man, drugged to all hell lunged towards him, aiming directly for his throat, unperturbed by his two dead compatriots.

The Adjudicator still didn't evade the attack, the stab struck true and as they crashed into each other, pushed the crimson armored man back followed by a loud torrent of air passing by.

There was another layer to Hart’s attack. The rapier was imbued with a strong smell, one powerful enough to stun someone who was not ready for it. Hart trusted his spell and went on the offensive once more.

His speed, matching that of the Adjudicators without his enhanced step, closed the gap instantly. But his rapier was deflected casually to the side, his olfactory spell failing to stun the Adjudicator. Hart tried to jump back but the man kept up with him and he was delivered a blow to the chest. Hart was sent flying to the edge of the room, hitting the door.

Coughing. He must be covering himself in some sort of barricade. “He’s a damn haptician! Should’ve been obvious with how he’s casually tanking your attacks.” I fucking hit his throat and he’s standing there nonchalantly. He must’ve concentrated his haptic guard when he saw me go for his neck. He’s also good enough with olfactic magic to resist my spell… Hart defiantly stood up, though he was hurt he casted a quick ammonia odor spell which shocked him back to stand up.

You are reading story Between The Senses at novel35.com

“Is this motherfucker actually one of the high guards?!” One of the thugs said.

“Who the hell did you piss off Boss?!” Another shouted.

“Let me show you something even more interesting.” The Adjudicator said. He continued his assault.

The thugs, even more uncertain, met his attacks with their own. But their attacks no matter how fierce and fast, hit air or were deflected. The Adjudicator was moving erratically but his movements dodged an attack even without him needing to see it. If there was an attack he couldn’t evade he deflected into an angle where it disrupted the attacks of the other thugs. That gave him space and he launched a straight right punch into a thug, caving his skull in and ending him immediately.

Five left.

A rapier violently lunged for him. It was dangerous, the amount of energy put inside that attack could actually hurt him. But it was useless if it didn’t hit anything. The Adjudicator easily dodged the lunge and simultaneously killed another thug with a roundhouse kick.

He flowed inside the battlefield with supernatural grace and evasiveness. Any attacks that went for him were perfectly parried in a direction of one of the other thugs that disrupted their own attacks. The leader tried to slice at him instead of using the rapier to stab, desperate to affect his senses with his imbued rapier, he was summarily evaded and flowed into another kill.

It was a sick dance of death. The thugs, despite being in the middle of this carnage, could only watch and observe as the Adjudicator dismantled each and every single one of them. It was like he had eyes in the back of his head, except it was obvious it wasn’t ocular magic. Even ocular magicians couldn’t dodge and weave this perfectly, it’s extremely difficult to parse out a third eye to look into, unless you were gifted or blessed with talent and the mindset to work hard after it.

The battle continued until there were only two left. Hart and the Adjudicator stared at each other. His high was messing with his sense of danger, instead of wanting to run away, he pushed forward. Uncaring of any danger that might come his way.

The rapier was gripped even tighter. “I’ll send you to hell!”

“Let’s go then.”

As he said that, a hand held Hart’s face and he was thrown out of the top floor of the building. The glass shattered and glittered, the various lamps powered by ocular enchantments reflecting on the tiny shards of glass.

As they fell, the Adjudicator took most of the fall and saved the criminal from the majority of the damage. He let go of the man.

“You bastard! Are you part of Gith’s men?! Well, I’m glad I killed his sister! The bastard fucking deserved it! He never admitted to kidnapping Kidra! The girl was blind! And he started to move against us using his dirty fucking tactics.”

“The heavens look upon you.” The Adjudicator said, looking at the sky. Though they were at the bottom part of the Gorge which bordered the landmasses of the slab cities, there were areas in between the platforms and bridges of the upper floors that shone the moonlight directly down the deepest part of the city.

The moon was losing its shine. Darkening the entire world. It was Sarius, the moon of this world, a large floating eye that illuminated the planet of Arrelyn alongside its brother sun, Kelius. It blinked every hour just like its brother And it seemed, due to serendipity, Sarius closed his eye on the plight of this man surrounded by shards of glass.

And in this world of darkness, the people of the deepest part of the Gorge seemed entranced by this and looked outside their windows and watched on the two men as they had their battle. The Sheathed Sword, already eerily quiet as they heard countless men’s dying moans and crashes of bodies. The patrons and workers of the bar looked outside. The buildings around them were just as deathly quiet.

The Adjudicator didn’t try to prolong it anymore and held Hart by the throat. Systemically breaking each and every one of his limbs. The cracks resonated throughout the Gorge, the people who couldn’t handle it puked, and the ones who could looked on with horror.

The man in red spoke up. “I am the Adjudicator. Criminals have festered in Lutinae.. No, Threinas for too long. I suggest that these people stop as fast as they can. For this is what will happen to you if you continue.” The Adjudicator started casting a spell.

He perceived the infinite expanse. He couldn’t see it, nor could he hear it, nor could he smell, he couldn’t even taste anything. But what he could do was feel. The sheer magnitude of what he just entered threatened to hemorrhage his own brain from trying to even understand it, let alone control some small part of it. He could feel his own touch inside the folds of his skin, in between the fibers of his muscle. The sensation of force that he is oh so familiar with, the countless memories of vicious beatings, remembering and analyzing that sensation and trying to conjure it. His own understanding of force was instinctual but it was backed by scientific theory and it made his control much more stable, he held onto it tight and released it into the world. What was force if not touch? Force could not be if it could not touch. And the former Kings of men learned that lesson very well.

“Die.”

Hart was writhing on the floor. Just as the Adjudicator said it, an invisible hand that was as big as a person, crushed him against the street. Leaving an imprint deep enough for all to see. The sound of bones breaking and organs rupturing was muffled by the simultaneously crushed rock, hiding the traumatic noise. The blood spurt that should’ve gone everywhere was contained by the invisible hand and painted the imprint in red.

The adjudicator left the scene. He didn’t try to help any of the victims that were still inside the bar. As far as he was concerned, he did all he needed to do.

 

---

 

Elias was sitting down at his desk. Heaps of paper heavy with writing were stacked upon the desk. He was addressing several invoices and problems within his cargo business. Workers that tried to steal cargo, captain’s that refuse to follow procedures, elites that want special treament. Despite the tremendous task upon him, Elias was taking it in stride, he calmly assessed each one. Though as he continued, his eyes furrowed with one paper he just read. He read it over again, doubting his own competence that he read it incorrectly. He wasn’t mistaken.

While the merchant class has risen in prominence much to the opposition of the Threinas elite, the council themselves has rarely tried to get their help in anything. The council would rather make their own organizations that rivaled the biggest merchant groups that dealt with the most important trade such as food, weapons and armor rather than work with merchants to progress faster. But what he just read was an offer from the council itself to bring his business as a partner with shipments of goods around Threinas with very good pay and benefits.

“This is unlike them.” Elias murmured to himself. He leaned against his chair in deep thought. But then a knock sounded throughout the room.

“You can come in.” Elias said as he flipped a haptic enchantment that released its hold on the door.

A girl came in and bowed. After she quickly closed the door. “There was a massacre in the Gorge. It was in the bar of the Sheathed Sword. Run by a gang named Rapier. To be more correct ran, they are no longer roaming this world.”

Well, isn’t he quick with his actions? I fear for the sorry folk that come against him. “Thank you for the report, Cleo. It seems I have more work to do.” Elias said to himself.