Chương 44: Ch 43: Predator

With eyes like those you know they've got some orcish or elvish in them. Filthy halfbreeds the lot. Rentus Ryland in a letter to his sister Deborah Morrow Solomon looked at it in confusion for a moment, causing James to look as well. The object was still for just a few moments, then it began to hiss. A thick cloud of purple gas began to expel from it at either end, causing it to rotate rapidly. Solomon caught a glance of James's expression becoming furious before the entire room was filled with the strange gas.

Solomon quickly lifted his jacket in front of his face to cover his mouth, but he wasn't quite quick enough and got a lungful of whatever the strange gas was. He began to cough, and tears began forming at the edge of his eyes. He started to stumble in the direction of the stairs, but stopped. He'd memorized the layout of the basement between hands. If the object had come from upstairs, that meant that whoever had thrown them was likely up there waiting for them.

Instead he made his way toward a high window he'd seen further away at the top of a wall. As he moved, hacking and crying from the gas, he couldn't help but note that while his homunculi could absorb damage from cuts it didn't seem to be effective when it came to chemical attacks. Is it because that was a type of damage a low level homunculus was incapable of experiencing? Perhaps he'd need to discover a way to give them lungs, or even stomachs so that he could avoid being poisoned.

With those thoughts in his mind, Solomon reached the far wall, head first. He could hear some kind of commotion occurring at the stairway, as he'd suspected. He felt along the top of the wall until he felt the window clasp. He undid it, and pushed the window open. He grasped either side of it and scrambled up. He wasn't strong enough to pull himself up just by the strength of his arms so he had to use his legs for leverage as well. After a few moments of inelegant struggle, he managed to pull himself out.

He stumbled to his feet for a few moments before his coughing forced him back to his knees. He took a few moments to clear his lungs and wiped the tears away from his eyes with the back of his sleeves, thinking of his next steps as he recovered. Someone had attacked the gambling hall. His first instinct was that it was the Etling guard, but they wouldn't use gas on a gambling hall. That meant it was likely a criminal element. Perhaps a competitor? The details were unimportant.

His options were to fight back inside and attempt to use magic to stop them, or get the guard. Given the risks involved with a brazen display of magic, he settled on the guard just as he managed to clear his lungs and force a few fresh breaths of air.

"Looks like one of the butterflies escaped the net," said a rough voice ahead of him.

"Looks like it. You get enough fresh air there sweetheart?" asked another voice, this one sounding like a man that favored an hourly cigar. Solomon looked up, his vision still a bit blurry, to see two large masculine figures. One held a brightly lit lantern and a club of some sort. The other had a knife.

"If you're breathin' alright, I'll need ya ta go ahead and empty your pockets. Go ahead and take off the jacket too. I bet I could squeeze into it."

"Keep half of what he has between us, give the rest to the boss?" asked the one with the knife.

"That, or we could keep it all and leave a corpse in the alley."

"I don't know. Murderin' nobles is a tough business."

"Feels right satisfying though."

"That's true." Solomon steadied his breath as he listened to them. With their first conversation he was considering simply going along with things. He didn't need the gold he had on him, and his coat could be replaced. As they continued speaking though he found himself rather annoyed. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Staying crouched downward he curled the fingers in his right hand around slowly until he made a fist, channeling his mana through it as he did so. Suddenly, the man's lantern went out. As did every light within the pub, every streetlamp nearby, and any candles anyone had lit within their homes streets away.

"What happened?" asked the man with the knife.

"I don't know, I-" Solomon stood in the darkness, staying where he was and gathering more mana for his next spell. His mana seemed to be out of control again. Not as bad as when he'd first gained it, but close to it. As such there was no holding back his next spell. He extended a hand with his wrist pointed downward and his fingers straight down as well, then he flicked his wrist upward until the flat of his palm was facing the men in front of him.

A powerful blast of wind blew from his palm and launched the two men down the alley, causing them to skip across the cobblestones. Solomon stayed where he was, letting his eyes adjust to the dark as he used to do when he'd creep through the Morrow estate at night.

"Stark? Vega? You alright?" came a voice from around the front of the pub. One of the men must've been alive because he managed a groan in response. A third man ran through the gloom and reached the one that was groaning. He'd gotten lucky and landed on a soft pile of garbage.

"By the Herald, what happened?" he asked. The man just continued groaning in response. Solomon crept forward quietly, preparing another gust spell and forcing as much magic into it as he could. Just as he was about to release it, he saw another figure exit the front door of the pub. He was moving quietly, and if Solomon hadn't been looking in that direction, he wouldn't have detected him at all. He grabbed the man that was still standing by the hair and yanked his head back, placing a knife against his throat.

"You absolute fucking idiots," said the man with the knife in a voice Solomon immediately recognized.

"What? You're here!? You weren't supposed to be here today!" said the man with the knife to his throat, his body beginning to tremble.

"Even if I hadn't been here, you think this would've been a good idea?" asked James, his hand incredibly steady on the handle of the knife.

"It was just supposed to be a quick job. Throw some gas, grab some coin and make a run for it. You weren't supposed to be here."

"Who told you that I wasn't supposed to be here?" asked the Viscount, pressing the knife a bit closer and drawing just a few drops of blood.

"Bolivar. From South Unden street. He gave us the tip." The Viscount nodded, and loosened his grip a bit.

"Good. Your story matches what the others said." The man's body relaxed.

"I had a friend with me that I now need to find and make sure is safe. This was possibly the worst day you could've made such a foolish attempt. However, since you told the truth, I'll make this quick like I did for the others." He suddenly yanked the man back again and drove the knife hard into his chest, letting the body drop to the ground.

Solomon watched quietly from the darkness, and watched James look closely with curiosity at the two men Solomon had dealt with earlier, his head tilting left like an observant predator. After a few moments he walked back into the tavern, his body language shifting from that of a dangerous animal, to the laid back and confident manner Solomon had first seen when he'd met him. His golden eyes actually seemed to shimmer a bit in the dark as he went out of sight.

He stood in the dark for a few moments, debating what he should do. He considered going with his original plan to find a guard, but now that he knew a bit more about James he wanted to be considerate of what the consequences would be. He also wasn't sure of where to head to even find the guard. He'd kept a mental note of each turn they'd made while in the carriage, but given the roughness of the neighborhood he doubted he'd be able to easily find them. In the end he decided to be patient.

He waited for lights to again be lit within the tavern, and then he carefully walked the long way around through a dirty alley until he found the carriage and its driver that had brought him and James there. The driver stood at his approach. He had a dark stain on his sleeve that may have been blood.

"Lord Morrow, are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes. There was some kind of an attack. I managed to slip out of the window. Unfortunately I got a bit lost. Are you alright?" he asked, pointing at the man's sleeve.

"Yes sir. Please don't worry about me. Please, stay with the carriage. I'll find master Byar." Solomon nodded, and took a seat in the carriage. He'd thought that James was only a good way to make some business connections, but it appeared the man was more interesting than he'd expected.