Rune System: The Crimson Knight

CHAPTER THIRTY

“Stop here.”

The chauffeur obeyed Draàl’s command without question, bringing the large, black Cadillac to a halt on the side of the deserted street. They’d arrived in the Pueblo Libre district a few minutes before midnight, and for good reasons as well. In contrast to Valeria’s plan, which involved him breaking into the Larco museum with the help of her men, Draàl opted for something more subtle and discreet. To him, it was preferable to slip in and out undetected during closing hours, and it was even more so to do it alone. Sure, there were still guards and security cameras to deal with—among other protection measures the building might have—but he wasn’t deterred by that. If anything, he felt the hardest part wouldn’t be getting in but getting the amulet out.

“Stay behind the wheel and keep the engine running,” Draàl instructed as he pushed the back door open. “Just in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

“Understood, señor,” the chauffeur replied monotonously. Seemingly in his forties, with wavy, graying hair and tanned skin that matched his brown eyes, he twisted in the driver’s seat as he offered an object to Draàl; a small, circular device about the size of a button. “A tracker, señor. If you happen to be in a tight spot, just push the button in the middle. I’ll get the signal and immediately drive to you.”

“Very well, then.” Draàl accepted the device and headed out.

The night air was cool and slightly breezy as he strolled along the sidewalk. Street lights illuminated the environment to a commendable degree, leaving just the alleyways in the dark. Besides less than a handful of open antique and gift shops, and occasional vehicles cruising along the road, the street was mostly empty. No one noticed the pale, red-eyed stranger in a black leather jacket over a white T-shirt and brown chinos pants, walking smoothly and quietly towards a bend at the end of the street. Gradually, as he turned into the adjacent lane, the stores and shops became tall trees, and the road ahead fell even quieter.

Draàl stopped after seven minutes of walking, standing under the shadows of thick fig trees. Across the road, a few yards from his position, stood a tall iron gate flanked by a white brick fence. As he quickly spotted two cameras attached to the spiked summit of the gates, he wondered how many more were angled towards the entrance.

“Don’t bother, Lord Draàl,” Zha’irah’s quiet voice resonated in his head. “The cameras around the perimeter have already been disabled.”

“Disabled?” Draàl repeated with a baffled frown. “How do you know that?”

“That’s the wrong question to ask, Lord Draàl. You should be asking why they’ve been disabled.”

“Of course,” Draàl scoffed. “You happen to know everything, don’t you? Just like you knew Valeria was going to try to kill me.”

“That wasn’t exactly the case,” Zha’irah explained. “Valeria’s upbringing was rooted in acts of brutality and violence, right from the moment she was old enough to train with the warriors of her clan thousands of years ago. She has been programmed to believe that the most satisfactory way to prove one’s strength is through the heat of intense battle. Killing you wasn’t an objective, but if you had died by her hands, she would have been convinced that you weren’t worthy enough of your title.”

“Which was exactly what she said when she drove her sword into my gut.” Draàl inhaled deeply, raising his gaze towards the stars glimmering in the night sky. “Honestly, it was never my intention to go that far. I succumbed to my rage and nearly tore her to pieces as a result.”

“Regardless, it was a necessary moment, Lord Draàl,” Zha’irah assured. “Valeria is a powerful rune sorceress who is one of the first descendants of the Originals, and you not only defeated her in battle, but you also proved why you were chosen as the Queen’s herald. It is a lesson she will not be forgetting any time soon.”

“If you say so, Zha’irah.” He stepped out of the shadows and moved towards the gates. “Humor me, then. Tell me why the surveillance cameras were disabled.”

“The reason is simple enough,” she replied serenely. “There is someone else here, and they are also after the Blood Amulet.”

Draàl’s brows narrowed. “Who’s this person? And why have they decided to retrieve the amulet now?”

“You would need to find that answer out for yourself, Lord Draàl. And you might need to hurry as well. They’re getting close.”

Scowling, Draàl picked up the pace as he began sprinting towards the gates. When he got close enough, he propelled himself into the air with a powerful blast of fire from his hands, soaring over the towering gates. Landing with a roll, he rose slowly to his feet and observed the building before him, along with its environs.

The museum appeared to be a stunning eighteenth-century colonial mansion, built on a seventh-century pyramid. The exterior was coated cleanly with white paint, with the Peruvian flag mounted on a small dome on the roof just above the entrance. Lush gardens bearing vibrant bougainvillea, cacti, and other flowering plants surrounded the brightly illuminated building, offering a variety of colors and beauty to the landscape. Draàl had landed on the lawn, which appeared low and neatly trimmed. As his gaze fell back on the gates, he noticed the folded bodies of three men in dark uniforms lying at the edge of the lawn, right next to the fence.

“Looks like security has been disabled as well,” Draàl noted dryly.

“Tranquilizers, it would seem,” Zha’irah confirmed. “Swift and without trouble.”

Draàl’s brows narrowed thoughtfully. “Whoever this intruder is, they also want to get in and out without a scene.”

With long, quick strides, he crossed the lawn and scaled up the steps. At the entrance, another unconscious guard sat spread-legged against the wall, his cocked head displaying the tranquilizer dart embedded in the crook of his neck. But that wasn’t what made Draàl stop abruptly.

“There’s… something in the air,” he muttered, squinting and slightly tilting his head to the side. “Some kind of strange energy. It’s so raw, I can almost smell it.”

“The residual rune aura of the Blood Amulet,” Zha’irah affirmed with certainty. “It is strong enough to pick up like a scent, but using your Sight would make things much easier.”

Draàl’s eyes glowed like red neon bulbs, and he could instantly see a transparent but visible trail floating in the air—like wisps of clear smoke. He followed the trail into a spacious foyer, which was brightened with soft, yellow lighting. A gnarled but healthy tree stood in the middle of the room, just underneath a glass section of the roof. Noting the framed portraits and artworks hanging on the walls, Draàl passed an unoccupied reception desk and made a left turn, into a room labeled as “Visible Storage”.

Realizing the door was already unlocked, he pushed it cautiously as he gradually stepped inside. Numerous ceramic artifacts were balanced on tall glass shelves, which took up most of the space in the room. As compensation, there were narrow aisles between the shelves, allowing for limited movement. Draàl continued to trace the trail, which had become a more dense cloud hanging just below the ceiling. He crisscrossed through the aisles, going through two more doorways until he reached a shelf standing squarely in his path.

“A dead end,” he mumbled with a frown. “But this is where the aura is at its strongest.”

“Then you have arrived at the entrance,” Zha’irah informed.

“Entrance? To where?”

As if eager to answer his question, a wide, rectangular tiled section of the marble floor before his feet began to glow, displaying a rune symbol in a yellow light. Then the symbol and the tiled floor completely faded out of existence, revealing a stony staircase that led to dark depths below.

“Welcome to the Secret Cavern, Lord Draàl,” said Zha’irah. “Within its bowels, you will find what you seek. If you can survive its horrors.”