The Shamanic Billionaire

FOUR: A Soul Reaver

The grounds of the Arrows Family Mansion were a true exhibition of extravagance. With perfectly trimmed gardens, fountains fit for royalty, and a collection of cars worth more than some small towns, it was quite the sight.

After spending fourteen years surrounded by dust and mountain trees, the sheer scale of the wealth here made anyone stop in their tracks.

But Cai? He didn’t bat an eye.

Instead, a vindictive joy surged within him. If those mountain boys could see him now, especially that smug Clem, they’d surely choke on their jealousy.

Cai hoped Clem’s sister wouldn’t show up; let that spoiled brat stay buried in the village mud while Cai reclaimed his rightful place.

"What’s on your mind?" Grant asked, his tone steady. He had been observing the storm of emotions swirling in Cai's eyes since they drove through the gates.

Cai kept his gaze fixed ahead. "Why did the Old Man call me back?" His voice was flat. "Are they planning to bury me deeper this time?"

Grant exhaled, his eyes on the grand entrance of the mansion. "The Patriarch is ill, Cai. Very ill. The doctors say he might not last the month. He’s looking for someone suitable to take the Arrows Family forward. That’s why he’s calling everyone back home."

Cai slowly turned his head, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "So... there’s a chance I might inherit all of this?"

He glanced back at the sprawling estate. Was this it? Was the universe finally giving him some payback for those fourteen years of neglect? The idea of sitting atop this mountain of wealth was almost overwhelmingly sweet.

But once they stepped inside the front doors, that sweetness evaporated.

A jolt of energy slammed into Cai’s chest. His senses kicked in, and the air in the foyer felt thick, heavy with an unsettling, dark vibe. He scanned the room, narrowing his eyes as he sensed something amiss, something out of place in a home meant for the living.

A figure descending the shiny staircase caught his attention.

A man draped in heavy spiritual robes that seemed way too warm for the season. He wore dark gloves, silver rings etched with jagged symbols, and faint ash marks stained his cuffs. There was an unsettling chill about him.

Cai’s breath caught in his throat. He might have been "powerless" on Qilan Mountain, but he wasn’t clueless. The scrolls and the elders had schooled him about things most folks deemed fictional.

And the man descending the stairs is a Soul Reaver.

He recognized the telltale signs immediately: the silver ring with a broken circle symbol. These were the scavengers of the spiritual realm, lurking after disasters to collect souls.

Seeing one here, deep inside the Arrows' home, spelled trouble… death was already lurking within.

Without any warning, the man moved. He soared, launching an attack before Cai could process his thoughts.

Thankfully, Cai was quick to react. Feeling a surge of strength he never knew he had, he met the man mid-air.

The maids screamed and dove for cover, while Grant scrambled back, panic painting his face as chaos erupted in the living room. Furniture shattered around them, and the air crackled with the friction of their clashing powers.

They crashed apart, both gasping for breath. The room lay in shambles, broken glass and overturned furniture everywhere.

The Soul Reaver stood still for a moment, then erupted into hysterical laughter. The sound grated like metal scraping against stone.

"You just awakened?" the man croaked, his eyes shining with a mix of malice and surprise. "I was genuinely worried for a second when I sensed your energy. Thought an expert had shown up."

Cai stared at his own hands, his heart pounding in his chest. A Soul Reaver. What was going on? Had the accident really awakened his abilities? Well, it was the only plausible thing that could explain his sudden change.

Grant and the maids, seeing this unexpected violence pause, cautiously moved back toward the doorway, their faces pale with shock.

"I just arrived in the city and I’m already scrapping with a Soul Reaver?" Cai spat, his voice quivering with a blend of adrenaline and fury. "I haven’t even had a sip of water yet. Why did you attack me? Are you so terrified I’ll mess up your little mission?"

The Soul Reaver chuckled again. It was a dark, rasping sound. But then his laughter shifted to a low, predatory tone. He adjusted his heavy coat, the silver rings on his fingers glistening under the chandelier light.

"Master Rady!" Grant stumbled forward, his voice shaking as he glanced at the wreckage of the room, then back at the two of them. "Master, please… this is my son. He just came from the mountain. Is... is there a problem?"

Master Rady didn’t take his eyes off Cai. Instead, he narrowed them, an accusing glint evident. He raised a gloved hand, pointing sharply at Cai’s chest.

"Your son?" Rady's voice was a cold rasp. "What you’ve brought into this house isn’t a son, Grant Arrows. It’s a harbinger of disaster. I attacked because the second he stepped through that door, the spiritual equilibrium of this mansion shattered. He’s emitting a dark, unstable energy, a filth that’s stirred every thing in this room."

He shifted his focus back to Grant, the seriousness of his expression brewing something manipulative. "The Patriarch is already precariously close to death. Bringing this... creature... before him is like tossing a flame into a gas-filled room. I acted to defend your father’s soul."

Cai stood there amidst the wreckage, tingling from their confrontation. He watched Master Rady spin his tales, noting how Grant’s shoulders sagged under shame and fear.

The maids whispered, their glances towards Cai suggesting he was some kind of curse.

Cai let out a sarcastic laugh, stepping over a broken vase with a gleam of arrogance in his eyes.

"Is that the story we’re sticking to, Master Rady?" Cai asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

He stepped closer to the Soul Reaver, disregarding Grant's frantic gesture to stay back. Cai leaned in, sniffing the air near the man’s heavy cuffs.

"It’s amusing," Cai went on, his tone shifting to something more serious. "You talk about dark forces, yet you smell like ash and graves. My 'dark energy' didn’t agitate anything, you did. You’re not here to safeguard the Patriarch; you’re just a vulture lying in wait, ready to pick the bones once the heart stops."

He glanced over at his father, who was staring at him in horror.

"Mr. Father, you really need to get better at choosing help," Cai said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hiring a Soul Reaver to guard a dying man? That’s like hiring a shark to watch over a kiddie pool. Which one of you is the real idiot here?"

Grant stood frozen, his breath caught as he surveyed the ruins surrounding him. The "Master" he had spent a fortune on to protect the family had just been brought to a standstill by the son he’d dismissed as a failure for fourteen years.

"Where is he?" Cai’s voice sliced through the silence.

Grant blinked, his mind racing. "What...?"

Cai scoffed, impatience radiating from him. "Your father, Grant. The old man. Where is he?"

"The... the Master suite. Upstairs. Second door on the left," Grant stammered, his voice shaky.

Cai turned toward the stairs, but Rady wasn’t done. The Soul Reaver’s face contorted with fury. "You’re not going anywhere near that room, boy!" Rady lunged, his heavy cloak billowing like a shadow. But Cai dodged the attack swiftly like he had been training for it.

Cai’s gaze scanned the panicked staff until he noticed a young maid clutching his old, dusty mountain bag. He rushed her, snatching the bag from her grasp.

With a vigorous tug, he spilled its contents onto the floor. Amongst the meager items, a single dull black bead rolled out.

Rady stopped, staring at the unremarkable object. He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "You think that piece of trash will do anything to me? You’re playing with toys, kid."

"I don’t think," Cai replied, fingers closing around the bead. "But I might just make it work."

He closed his eyes, his heart racing once again. For years on Qilan, he’d whispered the a lot of ancient words over this same bead, and for years, nothing had happened. He’d been labeled a dud and a talentless disciple of his reliable master.

Please, he prayed silently, pressing his thumb into the cold surface of the bead. “Work”.

He began mumbling the incantation quietly. Suddenly, the air around his hand chilled. The bead's dull surface fractured, and a brilliant, blinding blue light burst forth from the cracks, illuminating the entire space in a ghostly glow.

Cai’s heart soared. It worked.

Rady’s expression shifted from mockery to pure, unrestrained fear. "That’s... that’s impossible!" The Soul Reaver lunged toward Cai to stop the spell, but Cai was quicker.

He moved with a predatory swiftness he’d never experienced before, covering the distance in a flash and slamming the glowing bead squarely into Rady’s chest.

A shockwave of blue energy surged through the room. The maids gasped, and Grant stumbled back against the wall as a horrifying, screeching sound erupted from Rady’s throat.

The Soul Reaver’s eyes turned a void-like black. His form began to flicker and unravel at the edges like paper set to flame. "You son of a bitch!" Rady rasped, his voice a chorus of dying whispers. "This isn’t over!"

With a final, explosive burst, Rady vanished into thin air, leaving behind only the faint scent of ozone and the dying blue glow in Cai’s palm.

Cai stood there, his chest heaving, the black bead now dull and exhausted in his hand. He didn’t look back at the chaos. Instead, he directed his cold gaze toward his father.

"Take me to the Patriarch’s room. Now!"

Grant stood frozen, hus mouth agape as he stared at the spot where Master Rady had just been obliterated. He was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to speak.

He simply gawked at his son as though he were witnessing a god for the first time, and it filled him with terror.