“Before we discuss that,” Lude said, “has the relic truly been brought into the country?”
Again, Zaid clicked his tongue. He had long since grown accustomed to the man’s unflappable attitude, which was all that kept him from further expressing his displeasure. He touched a mechanism built into his golden seat, and the large screen mirrors installed around the room flickered to life.
“There. Take a look,” Zaid urged. “This farseeing record was courtesy of my sons’ servants. Is that not the Black Blade, excavated from the Dungeon of the Lost by King Clays himself?”
The screens showed a man carrying what resembled a blackened sword. After a moment of consideration, the black-cloaked man said, “Indeed. There can be no mistaking it.” He stared at the image for some time, his expression hidden by his hood.
“I still don’t know why you care so much about it, especially when you show such little concern for everything else. It’s one of a kind, I’ll admit, but it looks no better than a battered old antique to me. I know you elves have a fondness for that kind of thing...but with how events have played out, we need to renegotiate. I’m no longer fond of simply handing it over to you.”
The black-cloaked man said nothing. Then, “Pardon?”
“Take issue with that, do you? Your contract with House Sarenza might be old—older than my great-grandfather’s generation—but I still demand compensation for the losses you— Gack!”
In the blink of an eye, Lude had appeared right in front of the outraged Zaid. He said nothing, merely tightening his hand around the man’s neck and slowly lifting him into the air.
“Ack! L-Lude?! Wh-What do you think—ngh—you’re doing?! Gah!”
Pale fingers clamped around Zaid’s throat. He writhed and groaned in pain, desperate to break free, but it was no use. The fingers dug in deeper, pressing between the rolls of the haughty merchant’s fat neck and cutting off his air supply.
“C-Can’t...br— Ack! St-Sto—!”
Zaid thrashed about, his face distorted from the pain, but the black-cloaked man showed no mercy. Under his dark hood, two long ears caught the cracking of bone.
“Aghhh! Nnngh...!”
“Our contract, hmm? Indeed, there exists such a thing between us. As I recall, it stipulates that, in exchange for our generous assistance, your filthy little family shan’t ever sully my people’s name by speaking it with your wretched tongues.”
“Uagh! Ngaaah! Ack!”
“And that if you fail to comply, your only ‘compensation’ shall be the complete extermination of your bloodline.”
“Nguh!”
There was a loud crack as the merchant’s neck and jaw gave in to the force of Lude’s pale hand. Five slender fingers sunk deep into bloated flesh, splattering the polished white floor with the crimson blood that spurted out between them.
Zaid struggled no more. His body went limp, and the color drained quickly from his skin.
“Our agreement was made a mere two centuries ago. Have you already forgotten?”
The man dressed in black heaved a heavy sigh. Zaid’s eyes had gone white, and red-flecked froth dribbled from his mouth.
“I suppose you have. Your kind’s insignificant lifespans don’t lend well to long-lasting memories. You mistake the power you were given for your own, growing heady and ignorant of your true place. It is no wonder your word is as cheap as your life.”
Lude opened his hand, and his fat victim tumbled forward, striking the floor with a loud, meaty smack.
“Disgusting,” the man in black said, staring down at the body prostrated before him. “The more I deal with you creatures, the more it sickens me. Short-lived, dim-witted, and slaves to your desires. You breed like rabbits and squabble amongst yourselves for meager gains. How many times have I wished for your extinction?” His voice was mostly devoid of emotion, although his words betrayed the loathing he felt inside.
“And who are you to speak of worth, transient and ignorant as you are? You know not even your own. Against that ‘old antique,’ as you put it, the mountains of dreck you people and your ancestors purport to have made mean nothing. They are no more important than the life of a single gnat.”
Zaid did not—could not—respond, his face a mess of blood and ichor.
“Your kind could toil for millennia and still not produce fruits of equal value. You would wipe yourselves out if left to your own devices. How can you fail to understand such a simple truth?”
Zaid’s consciousness had faded, and his chest remained perfectly still. As the cloaked man’s long ears heard the bloated merchant’s heart begin to slow, he quietly inhaled, then spat out one final insult.
“Truly revolting. Why must I allow waste such as you to live? It vexes me to no end. But...your time has not yet come. You still possess some use. Your disposal can wait.”
The black-clad man spoke as though trying to placate himself. He grabbed the limp body by the head and picked it up with a single hand.
“Heal already, you worthless lump of meat.”
Pale blue light shone from Lude’s hand, and the corpulent man’s bones started to piece themselves back together. The gore splattered across the floor floated up and returned to its host as though time were reversing. The merchant’s heart began to beat again, and his pale face regained its color. Brought back from the verge of death, he coughed and sputtered as air once again filled his lungs.
“Guh— Ack!”
The forceful restoration complete, the cloaked man leaned down and spoke softly into his victim’s ear. “How do you feel, Lord Zaid?”
Zaid screamed and scrambled backward. “L-Lude?! How dare you! Do you th-think you’ll get off lightly after— Gack!” Slender fingers grabbed him by the chin, squeezing his jaw like a vise.
“How careless of me. I should have wiped your memories first.”
“Ngh! Wh-What are you— Gah!”
“Do shut up. Your breath reeks of stupidity. I’ve no desire to waste more effort than I need to.”
“Ah-ahhh!”
Again, there came the sharp crack of shattering bone. The cloaked man elected not to wait this time and repaired the fresh wound with the same pale blue light as before. Then, another crack rang out, and the process repeated.
Lude’s eyes were apathetic as he carried out his work. After several more cycles, he parted his lips to speak—reluctantly, as if the very act bothered him. “Forget everything that just took place.”
This time, red light erupted from the man’s hand. It engulfed Zaid’s head, stopping his body from writhing and causing his eyes to widen. Gradually, the merchant’s expression settled into one of docility.
The cloaked man let go, leaned close to his victim’s ear, and repeated what he had said before: “How do you feel, Lord Zaid?”
The merchant’s hollow eyes swam as he desperately attempted to recall something...to no avail. “M-My...head hurts. Wh-What am I doing? Why am I on the floor?”
“You had another attack. Chronic diseases are so unfortunate, are they not? Here—your medicine. It will make you feel better.”
“R-Right... Thank you, Lude. You’re always here for me.” Zaid accepted the restorative potion and drained it in a single gulp. “Whew. I... I appreciate it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It was no more than the usual,” the cloaked man said emotionlessly, staring down at the pale-faced Zaid.
“S-So, what were we talking about, again? I remember that I summoned you...though I don’t remember why. Blacking out must have affected my memory.”
“We were discussing our visitors from the Kingdom of Clays. Because the primal golems that the other excavators and I gave you were no match for them, you requested an even more formidable specimen.”
“O-Of course, but...stronger than primal golems? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
“To answer one question with another, why would I have?”
“W-Well...” Zaid trailed off, reflexively flinching from the hint of anger in the cloaked man’s voice. As the head of House Sarenza, it should have rankled him that he felt so submissive, but he couldn’t bring himself to object.
“Our contract with you stipulates that we provide only the necessary degree of support. We cannot grant you more.”
“R-Right... I think I recall that...”
The man in black returned his attention to the screen mirror and the figure displayed upon it. “But of course, what we deem to be ‘necessary’ has changed.”
“Will it really be enough...?” Zaid asked nervously. “We’ll need more than a slight improvement to do something about him.”
“Fear not—the strength of the Titan slumbers within the dungeon. If we use it, no foe will be able to stand in our way.”
“Is it truly that great?”
“Yes. The Titan of Oblivion is the greatest power my people know. A primal golem is nothing in comparison. If you have no objections, I will head into the dungeon to fetch the key.”
“The key?”
“Indeed. We cannot activate the Titan without it. I shall entrust it to you, Lord Zaid, if you are willing.”
“If I accept, will this ‘Titan’ you speak of obey me?”
“Yes. There is no weapon more suitable for the ruler of this land.”
“R-Right...”
Zaid suddenly realized he was trembling. Something inside him—something beyond the usual timidness he kept hidden—told him to beware the man whose face he could not see. It was a strange sensation; as the head of Sarenza, he had always struck fear into his guests, not the other way around.
The mysterious terror surging from within Zaid seized his body and refused to let go. He couldn’t think of a single reason to be afraid of Lude, yet he panicked whenever they met. Where had the emotion come from?
“One last matter, Lord Zaid. Here.” Lude gestured with his hand, and several children stepped in front of the confused merchant, their eyes hollow and their faces pale.
“Are these...the demonfolk in your possession?” Zaid asked.
“Yes. As minor as the error might have been, I still feel obligated to compensate you. Use these creatures as you will, be it as slaves or as manastones to feed your golems. My people have no use for them.”
“R-Right. How very considerate of you. My thanks.”
“Now, I must be off to the Dungeon of Oblivion. Keep our guests within reach in my absence. What use is absolute power if you have no enemy to unleash it upon?”
“Y-Yes, of course,” Zaid intoned, scrounging whatever dignity he could from where he was slumped on the cold floor. “I expect great things, Lude.”
The cloaked man made his exit, leaving the extravagantly furnished room behind. He proceeded only a short way down a dimly lit, seemingly empty hallway before he came to a sudden stop.
“I know you’re there, Zadu.”
“Hmm? If it ain’t Mister Lude.” The air of the corridor shimmered like a heat haze, creating coils of mist that parted to reveal a man. His face was wrapped in black bandages, and a string of daggers hung from his waist. “Need something from me?”