Shadow System Sovereign

Chapter 5: The Messenger in the Mud

​Lucian sprinted through the drainage pipes, his lungs burning with a phantom fire. Though his undead body did not require oxygen in the same way a human’s did, the sheer exertion of his newfound Level 5 stats pushed his physical vessel to its current limit. The Ghoul Skin Tunic felt like a second, cold skin beneath his shirt, dampening the impact as he shouldered through narrow stone gaps.

​He reached the servant entrance of the kitchens just as the first bell of the pre-dawn watch began to toll. The sound was heavy and mournful, a warning to all fledglings that the sun would soon be a threat. But Lucian wasn't looking at the sky. He was looking at the heat signatures pulsing through the thick granite walls.

​The three Inquisitors had stopped. They were hovering near the eastern cellar, the very place where the high-grade blood was stored for the evening gala. Their heartbeats were steady, terrifyingly so. They were professionals, trained to kill his kind with silver and sunlight.

​If he went to Grog, the overseer would simply beat him for being out of bed. If he went to the guards, they would execute him for trespassing in the noble quarters. He needed someone with enough authority to listen but enough desperation to need a win.

​He thought of Instructor Valerius. The man was under immense pressure after the werewolf breach and the mysterious collapse of Elara. If another disaster struck the castle on his watch, Valerius would likely be staked by the High Lord himself.

​Lucian scrambled up the servant stairs, avoiding the main corridors. He used his Heart Seeker Gaze to track the movements of the night patrols, slipping past them like a wisp of smoke. He reached the door of the Instructors’ Quarters, a massive slab of black oak guarded by two armored thralls.

​Stop, one of the thralls commanded, leveling a silver tipped halberd at Lucian’s chest. The kitchens are that way, worm. One more step and we bleed you.

​Lucian didn't flinch. He looked the guard in the eye, letting a hint of his new intensity leak through his mask of mediocrity. I have a message for Instructor Valerius. It concerns the Solar Church. They are already inside the eastern cellar.

​The guards laughed, a dry and rasping sound. The Solar Church? The humans haven't crossed the moats in a hundred years. Go back to your pots, boy.

​Lucian reached out and grabbed the shaft of the halberd. The guard tried to jerk it away, but Lucian’s Strength of 12 held it firm. The guard’s eyes widened. Since when did a kitchen scrap have a grip like a vise?

​Tell him, Lucian hissed, or when your throat is slit by an Inquisitor’s blade, I will be the one laughing while I stir your blood into the morning stew.

​The sheer venom in Lucian’s voice worked. One of the guards nodded to the other and slipped inside the room. A moment later, the door swung wide. Instructor Valerius stood there in a silk dressing gown of deep crimson, his face a mask of fury.

​You, Valerius spat, pointing a long, pale finger at Lucian. If this is a lie to escape your duties, I will personally ensure your execution is slow.

​They are in the eastern cellar, Master, Lucian said, dropping to one knee to maintain his facade. Three of them. They carry consecrated silver. I saw them while I was... collecting rare herbs in the marsh.

​Valerius paused. His eyes narrowed. He looked at Lucian’s mud caked clothes and the strange, dark scent clinging to him. The marsh? Why would you be in the Whispering Fens at this hour?

​Lucian lowered his head. I was looking for something to help with my talent, Master. I am desperate. But while I was there, I saw the light of their charms. They are using the old smuggling tunnels.

​Valerius didn't wait for more. He was a man of action, driven by the fear of losing his status. He grabbed a heavy broadsword from the wall and shouted for the elite guard.

​If you are right, Lucian, you might actually be worth something, Valerius yelled as he ran down the hall. If you are wrong, pray to whatever gods you have left.

​Lucian followed at a distance. He didn't want to be in the front lines, but he needed to see the outcome. He needed the experience points if any of those humans fell.

​The group reached the eastern cellar in minutes. The air was cold and smelled of damp earth. Valerius kicked the heavy iron door open, his blade glowing with a faint, hungry red light.

​Inside, the three Inquisitors were caught in the act of planting glass vials filled with a shimmering, golden liquid—Holy Water. They were dressed in gray leather armor reinforced with silver plates, their faces hidden behind steel masks.

​Vampire scum! the lead Inquisitor shouted, drawing a short sword that hummed with solar energy.

​The battle was a blur of steel and shadow. The Inquisitors were fast, moving with a grace that rivaled the vampire elites. They threw small pellets that exploded into blinding flashes of light, momentarily searing the retinas of the vampire guards.

​Lucian stayed in the doorway, his Heart Seeker Gaze active. He saw the flow of the battle in red and purple. One of the Inquisitors was pulling back, reaching for a larger glass orb at his belt.

​System Warning: High Energy Signature detected. The target is preparing a Solar Flare bomb. Radius: 20 meters.

​If that bomb went off, the entire eastern wing would be scorched. Even Valerius might not survive the direct radiation.

​Lucian didn't think. He grabbed a heavy iron meat hook from a nearby rack and threw it with all the strength his Level 5 body could muster.

​The hook sailed through the air, guided by the System’s targeting reticle. It didn't hit the Inquisitor’s heart, but it slammed into the glass orb hanging from his belt.

​The orb shattered prematurely.

​A blinding, miniature sun erupted in the corner of the cellar. The Inquisitor who carried it was vaporized instantly. The shockwave threw everyone to the floor. The other two Inquisitors were blasted against the stone walls, their armor glowing white hot from the reflected energy of their own weapon.

​Valerius, protected by a shield of blood magic he had managed to raise at the last second, stood up shakily. He looked at the smoking remains of the assassins and then at the iron hook embedded in the wall where the bomb had been.

​He turned his head slowly toward Lucian, who was lying on the floor pretending to be dazed.

​System Notification: Indirect Kill detected.

Inquisitor Soul harvested.

Experience Gained: 1500.

Level Up! Level 6 reached.

Shadow Credits Gained: 20.

​Valerius walked over to Lucian and looked down at him. There was no mockery in his eyes now. There was a profound, unsettling curiosity.

​You threw that hook, Valerius whispered, loud enough only for Lucian to hear. That was not the throw of a failure. That was a strike of perfect precision.

​I... I just panicked, Master, Lucian stammered, his heart hammering against his ribs. I saw him reaching for the light and I threw the first thing I found.

​Valerius reached down and grabbed Lucian’s chin, forcing him to look up. The instructor’s eyes searched Lucian’s, looking for the golden glow he had seen on the battlements. Lucian kept his mask tight, his pupils dilated with feigned terror.

​Perhaps, Valerius said, letting go. Or perhaps the Malphas blood has finally decided to wake up in your worthless veins.

​The instructor turned to the arriving guards. Take the survivors to the torture chambers. And as for this boy... move him out of the kitchens.

​Grog, who had just arrived with a meat cleaver, looked stunned. Move him where, sir?

​To the Scout Corps, Valerius commanded. If he has the eyes to see Inquisitors in the dark, let him use them for the glory of the House. Give him a proper uniform and a blade. I want to see what else he can 'accidentally' do.

​Lucian bowed his head, hiding the flash of triumph in his eyes.

​Quest Update: The Silent Rise.

Progress: Level 6/10.

New Rank Attained: Apprentice Scout.

Bonus: Access to the House Malphas Armory (Low Tier).

​As the guards led him away, Lucian felt the weight of the 20 Shadow Credits in his virtual pocket. He had gained the favor of a High Noble, a position in the military, and enough experience to bring him closer to his first evolution.

​But he knew the stakes had just increased. In the kitchens, he was invisible. In the Scout Corps, he would be under constant observation. One slip, one use of a System skill in front of the wrong person, and his rise would end in a pile of ash.

​He needed to visit the Shadow Market again. He needed a way to mask his power even more effectively.