Warrior God With A System

Chapter 15

The street outside the Fen Estate was quiet now. Too quiet. The only sound was the faint trickle of the garden fountain behind the gates and the soft breathing of the girl in Xayn’s arms. 

Moonlight stretched across the cobblestones, pale and cold, making the shadows feel even deeper.

The cloaked man with the red eyes stood in those shadows, his face still mostly hidden beneath the hood. “I told you,” the man said again, his voice low and smooth. “Too late.”

Xayn adjusted Lia’s weight in his arms, his eyes locked on the stranger. “And yet you’re still here. That means you want something.”

The man’s lips curved faintly. “Sharp. Good. You’ll need that if you want to keep her alive.”

Xayn stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “You know how to remove this mark?”

The man’s gaze flicked to Lia’s arm, where the strange glowing seal pulsed like a heartbeat. “I do. But nothing comes for free.”

“What do you want?”

The man tilted his head. “Information. And, a test.”

Xayn frowned. “A test?”

“Yes. You have power now. But is it yours, or the system’s? I want to see which will break first ,  your strength, or your will.”

Xayn’s grip on Lia tightened. “I don’t have time for games.”

The man’s faint smile didn’t fade. “You have exactly,” His eyes shifted upward, as if he could see something in the air. “Forty hours before that seal burns her from the inside.” The words hit like ice water.

System Alert: Tracking seal countdown initiated.

Time until lethal activation: 39 hours, 56 minutes.

Xayn’s jaw tightened. “Tell me where to get the Shadowglass.”

The man stepped back into the deeper darkness, his voice drifting like smoke. “Eastern Black Market. You’ll find it in a vault under the Serpent’s Den.”

“I’ve heard of that place,” Xayn said. “It’s run by killers.”

The man chuckled softly. “Killers are predictable. The ones you should fear are the buyers.”

Xayn took a step after him. “Why help me?”

The red eyes glowed brighter for a second. “Because if you die in there, Sean will get what he wants too soon. And I prefer a longer game.”

Xayn carried Lia through the quieter streets of Crec until he reached a small, run-down building on the edge of the market district. He pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside.

The room smelled faintly of dust and old wood. A single oil lamp flickered on the table, casting shadows on the walls.

He laid Lia gently on the couch. Her breathing was steady, but she didn’t stir.

Kira appeared from the back room, her eyes widening when she saw them. “Big brother ! What happened?”

“Sean happened,” Xayn said, checking the seal again. It pulsed brighter for a moment, then dimmed.

Kira’s gaze fell on Lia. “Who is she?”

“Someone I have to protect.” He met his sister’s eyes. “And if I don’t find something called Shadowglass within the next day and a half, she’ll die.”

Kira swallowed. “Then you have to go now.”

“I will. But the place I’m going,” He paused. “It’s not safe. Not even for me.”

“You mean the Black Market?” she guessed.

Xayn’s eyes narrowed. “How do you, ”

“I hear things at the hospital,” Kira said quickly. “People talk. That place is different. They say it’s not just criminals there. It’s people with things. Curses. Weapons that think for themselves. It’s not normal.”

The system’s voice broke in. Warning: Eastern Black Market contains multiple high-level threats. Proceed with extreme caution.

Xayn nodded once. “I’ll be careful.”

Kira looked at him for a long moment. “You always say that. And then you come home hurt.”

He almost smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “This time, I can’t afford to come back hurt.”

Hours later, under the dim light of a waning moon, Xayn stood at the edge of the Eastern Black Market.

It wasn’t a single building ,  it was a whole network of narrow streets hidden behind the facade of old warehouses and forgotten alleys. 

Flickering lanterns lit the entrances, casting shadows on the stalls and corners where merchants whispered and buyers bargained.

The air was thick with the smell of burning incense, spiced food, and the faint coppery tang of blood.

Voices spoke in low tones, some in languages Xayn didn’t recognize. Figures in hooded cloaks and exotic masks moved through the crowd, carrying crates, weapons, or caged creatures that hissed and rattled.

System Scan: High threat density. Multiple potential hostiles tracking your movement.

Xayn kept his hands loose at his sides, his eyes scanning every shadow.

The Serpent’s Den was easy to find ,  not because it stood out, but because of how carefully others avoided it.

It was a squat stone building at the far end of the market, guarded by two massive men with serpent tattoos curling up their necks. Their eyes followed Xayn as he approached. One stepped forward. “You lost?”

“I’m here to buy,” Xayn said simply.

The guard’s eyes flicked to his coat, his boots, then back to his face. “What?”

“Shadowglass.”

For a moment, the only sound was the faint drip of water somewhere nearby. Then the guard chuckled. “You don’t buy Shadowglass. You earn it.”

The door opened, and the smell hit first, smoke, sweat, and the faint burn of some kind of sharp alcohol.

Inside, the room was dim, lit only by red lanterns. A low hum of conversation filled the air, broken by bursts of laughter or the clink of coins.

In the center of the room, a woman sat on a carved wooden chair, one leg crossed over the other. Her hair was black with streaks of silver, her eyes sharp and calculating.

“You’re not from here,” she said as Xayn stepped forward.

“I need Shadowglass.”

The room went quieter. The woman’s smile was slow. “Everyone needs something. What will you give?”

“I’ll pay,” Xayn said.

She shook her head. “Money is worthless for this. If you want Shadowglass, you bring me something in return.”

“What?”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment. “A mask. Black iron. It’s in the possession of a man named Drevik. He's difficult.”

“Where?”

She smiled wider. “Two streets over. In the Bone Quarter.”

The system’s voice chimed in. Side Quest Accepted: Retrieve the Iron Mask from Drevik. Threat Level: High.

The Bone Quarter was worse than the market. Bones hung from ropes overhead, clattering faintly in the night breeze. 

Skulls stared from shelves and alcoves, some human, some not. The ground was uneven, littered with broken stone and ash.

Drevik’s place was a single door painted black, with symbols scratched into the wood.

Xayn pushed it open. Inside, the air was cold and smelled faintly of rot. A man sat at a table in the center, sharpening a long, curved blade. His eyes lifted slowly. “You’re here for the mask.”

Xayn didn’t answer. Drevik stood. He was tall, with long, pale hair and a thin scar running from his jaw to his collarbone. “I was told someone would come. I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

Drevik moved first, faster than his size suggested. The blade hissed through the air toward Xayn’s throat.

Xayn ducked under it, driving a fist into Drevik’s ribs. The man barely flinched. He swung again, the blade flashing.

System Suggestion: Increase strength and speed to Level 12.

“Do it.” The world slowed. Xayn sidestepped the next swing, grabbed Drevik’s arm, and twisted hard, forcing the blade free. He brought his knee up, smashing it into Drevik’s face.

The man staggered but didn’t fall. “You’re good,” Drevik said, blood running from his nose. “But not good enough.”

Before Xayn could move again, Drevik reached into his coat and pulled out a small black vial. He smashed it on the floor.

Dark smoke exploded upward, filling the room. Xayn’s vision blurred. He coughed, trying to clear the air, and then he felt it. Hands. Cold, skeletal hands closing around his arms from the smoke itself.

System Alert: Unknown spectral entity engaged. Threat Level: Critical.

Drevik’s voice came from somewhere in the swirling darkness. “You want the mask? Then survive this.”

The skeletal hands tightened, pulling him toward the blackness. Somewhere in the smoke, faint red eyes flickered, but they weren’t Drevik’s.

They were the cloaked man’s, and his voice whispered again. “Still not too late to trade.”