The night had covered the town with a silent blanket, broken only by the occasional murmur of the wind and the sound of the man's steady footsteps advancing along the cobblestone streets.
He carried two bags. One filled with weapons, still wet with the blood of the homeless men who had tried to betray him. The other, with the remains of the food and money he had gathered after looting the burned chariot.
His destination was clear.
The building loomed in the darkness like a soulless giant, with thick stone walls and closed windows that looked like watchful eyes. It was no mere merchant's stall. It was an office, a trading headquarters, the throne from which that despicable merchant pulled his strings.
He pushed open the door without hesitation and entered.
Inside, the lighting was dim. Gilded chandeliers cast elongated shadows on the stone walls. A strong smell of wine and cheap perfume permeated the air.
And there he was.
The merchant was comfortably seated in a red leather armchair, a glass of liquor in hand, looking at the newcomer with a smile that oscillated between surprise and mockery.
Beside him, two gigantic figures stood motionless like statues.
The bodyguards.
They were huge. Chunky, with muscles that looked as if they had been carved in stone. They carried massive swords on their backs, each one larger than the torso of an average man.
And on their other side... The girl.
Her small body was still, sitting on a cushion on the floor, showing no emotion. Her opaque eyes reflected neither fear nor relief.
The merchant let out a hoarse laugh.
-Ha! I can't believe it..." He leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the solid wood table. I thought I'd see you in pieces, eaten by those bastards, but... here you are.
The man did not answer.
He walked slowly to the center of the room. Then, without further ado, he lifted the bag full of weapons and threw it to the floor.
The metallic sound of knives, razors, and daggers clashing together echoed through the room.
The bodyguards frowned, and the merchant arched an eyebrow.
-What is the meaning of this?
The man spoke, his voice as cold as a knife's edge.
-The homeless tried to kill me. You sold me as cannon fodder.
The merchant shrugged indifferently.
-Business, my friend. An extra incentive to see if you were worth it. And what do you think? You did it. You survived. From the moment I saw you, I could tell you weren't like the others; something about you was different. You were defiant and non-conformist.
The man did not look away from him.
-But what does it matter? Look on the bright side... if you are alive, it means you got what you wanted. - The merchant laughed.
The man did not respond.
The merchant leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes shining with a dangerous glint.
-Although, to be honest... I'm not very happy with this outcome.
He gestured to the girl with his head.
-After all, she's the most valuable thing I have. Do you know how many men would pay fortunes just to touch her? How many degenerates would kill just to possess her?
The man felt rage boil up inside him.
The merchant clicked his tongue in annoyance.
-The thought of losing her to a tramp disgusts me.
He waved his hand.
The bodyguards moved instantly, unsheathing their huge swords with a menacing clang of metal.
The merchant grinned mischievously.
-Kill him.
The two men advanced like war beasts, their huge strides crunching the wood of the floor.
The man did not wait.
With a nimble movement, he drew a knife covered with his own blood, the weapon glinting with a faint, dark glow in the candlelight.
The first bodyguard launched a downward slash with his sword, seeking to cleave him in two with a single blow.
The man dodged quickly, turning to his side and plunging his knife into the giant's forearm.
A simple cut.
The mercenary laughed.
-That's all? -The bodyguard scoffed, but his laughter was cut short when he felt an unbearable burning run up his arm.
His skin instantly turned red. Then bubbles began to form in her flesh as if something corrosive was eating her from the inside.
The burning turned to pain.
Pain into agony.
The man dropped the sword and fell to his knees, watching in horror as his skin slowly melted.
-What the hell?!
His companion, seeing this, looked down at his own arm.
He, too, had been cut.
And the skin around his wound was beginning to consume as if liquid fire was coursing through his veins.
The pain was excruciating.
One of the mercenaries began to shout.
-Shit, it feels like my body is burning from the inside!
The other tried to tear the skin off with his fingernails, but that only made the situation worse.
The merchant, who until now had been smiling, stood up suddenly, his face pale.
-What kind of monster are you?
The man did not answer.
One of the mercenaries, in a last attempt to attack, lunged at him with a roar of pain and despair.
But the man was quicker.
He ducked, dodging the clumsy attack, and slid his knife along the giant's belly. Another cut, another piercing scream.
The skin of the bodyguard's abdomen began to bubble and melt like wax, revealing the muscles and organs beneath.
He fell backward, convulsing, until he finally stopped moving.
The second mercenary had no better luck.
He tried to escape, but his legs no longer responded. His muscles had dissolved into a mass of black, charred flesh.
He collapsed with a gurgle of agony before his life was snuffed out.
The man sat up, wiping his knife on his own shirt.
The merchant stepped back, his face covered in cold sweat, the fear in his eyes palpable.
The man advanced slowly, each step echoing in the silent room.
-Time to pay your debt.
The merchant trembled.
His eyes flickered between the corpses of his two bodyguards and the man slowly advancing toward him, his dark figure standing out in the dim light of the room.
-Wait... -His voice cracked -We can talk!
The man did not answer.
The footsteps echoed, slow, heavy, as if death itself walked in that office.
The merchant fell to his knees, raising his hands in supplication.
-I'll give you the money! More than we agreed on! Take it all!
The man continued to advance.
-The girl! She's yours, take her! But let me live!
The fear in his eyes was real.
But so was his desperation.
Under the desk, his fingers reached for a small brass button embedded in the wood. He pressed it hard.
A metallic echo vibrated in the silence.
The man stopped.
In less than a second, the door opened violently, and the room filled with men.
Dozens of mercenaries in dark suits, armed with daggers, swords, and war maces, flooded the office like a lethal tide.
The merchant, still on his knees, began to laugh.
First, a shaky laugh. Then, uncontrolled, hysterical.
-Did you really think you could kill me here? This is my domain! My empire!
He stood up, wiping his sweat with his sleeve.
-You're strong, I admit it. But no one can stand against all of them, strong men I've collected from different places to serve me. - the merchant snapped his fingers.
The mercenaries took up positions, ready to attack.
The merchant sighed with relief.
-Wash your hands in their blood. -And when you're done... clean up this mess.
He turned and walked out of the office, dragging the girl with him.
"It's my time to have fun."
Those words made something in the man snap.
The fire inside him boiled over.
The mercenaries attacked all at once.
author's note: I apologize for my absence in the stories I have been publishing, they have not been good weeks for me and I was not motivated for many things, I guess some of the readers at some point have felt this, and you will understand me, I will publish more often from next week, I have to catch up, thank you very much to those who support the story, keep it, or just read it, I would appreciate if you comment what you think, if there are errors or something you do not understand, I will be to help you. Remember to visit my website if you want to support my work. There you will find advanced chapters. patreon.com/SlipperyRaccoon - DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE POWER STONES EVEN