He would repeat this as many times as possible. Killing was the easy part; it was killing in the proper manner that was hard.
That was the part that no one really talked about, the smallest detail of which, could make or break you, and if Elias wanted to continue killing in the future, then he needed to perfect these small details, especially when the now deceased, whose neck he was sawing through, was a rather prominent individual, and his disappearance would draw heat from many quarters.
"Crack…"
Elias grimaced as the serrated blade he was using to cut through the neck hit the spine and then snapped.
Although made from Refined Iron, those who wielded the power of the Lumina had rather strong bones, and their prey here had gone further up in their position as a Siphon than most.
For a force that was said to be always around them, it was always amazing to see how much Lumina could transform those who carried its powers inside their bodies.
Lumina was said to be the Will and Lifeforce of the gods.
Pity that they were all dead.
㉫
The snap of the blade had broken Elias from the intense high of the kill, making him aware of the bone-deep ache in his shoulder and arm that spread through the rest of his body to the soles of his feet.
He flexed his fingers; they were numb and pale, nearly bloodless from the force he had to exert to cut through the bones of a powerful Siphon.
There were cases of mortals killing those touched by the Lumina of course, either by lucky encounters where they were already grievously injured or through special means that could not be easily repeated, but Elias did not know how many would claim they had been hunting Siphons for years as a mortal with the degree of success that he could boast of, and he had a fair share of kills under his belt, even though he was turning eighteen in about… his mind gave him a precise number, eight hours, fourteen minutes and thirty-five seconds from now.
Opening a case beside him, Elias retrieved another serrated blade and deposited the bloodless and broken blade beside the three others that were broken as well.
He had already removed the arms and legs of Josef, and what was left was the head, and the cost of this butchery was the destruction of his blades.
Anticipating something like this, Elias had prepared ten sets of serrated blades, when he knew he would need five at the most.
Preparation was the key to success, and being over-prepared never hurt, even when it delayed his hunt by three more months as he made sure every tool he needed was ready.
Elias' prey were mostly smart and were always stronger than he was. It was difficult, if not impossible, to find cheap victories when he was a mortal hunting Siphons.
He did not believe in luck, only preparation.
His first hunt had nearly been his last when his properly made plans were destabilized when his blade broke halfway through the kill. It was not a pleasant experience to stab someone in the eyes and have the blade snap in the process, when the person he was trying to kill could rip him in half with a mere shrug.
Elias had spent nearly half his life savings on that blade after he had been repeatedly assured by the merchant of its sharpness, durability, and how the blade was merely one step lower than a Rune Weapon.
Of course, he had later learned that he had been scammed by this merchant, who sold him a blade that was not even made from Profound Iron, but simply coated with it.
He later learned of the scarcity of Rune Weapons and how, in the city alone, the total number of Rune Weapons floating outside the control of the Palace, the Guilds, or the Academy could not be more than a dozen.
It amazed him that there was a time when he had really been that gullible.
It was a foregone conclusion that after surviving his first hunt, the merchant became his prey for the second hunt, and much of the funds he had come to be working with came from the greedy merchant's coffers.
Elias hated liars, especially when it was related to any professional capacity; however, he could forgive small lies that had no true importance. He was not that rigid after all.
From that moment onward, every tool that Elias worked with mostly came from his hands, as he was forced to learn various crafts to aid him in his dastardly activities.
Still, his mind had always been supernaturally sharp, able to hold every detail he had seen with frightening precision and clarity, and his fingers were frighteningly nimble.
He was a born craftsman, and with his fastidiousness, he became pretty good at various crafts.
Yet, his curse, the Passenger in his head, was the most significant source of his capability to hunt Siphons.
Elias recalled that the only reason for his survival after his first grueling hunt was the Passenger; it could enhance his healing capabilities, giving him the regenerative powers of what he suspected was a higher-ranking Siphon, even when he was still just a mortal.
For all its troubles, it had given him many great gifts.
Elias hardly needed to eat or sleep, so he could achieve many things in a shorter amount of time than anyone could have imagined.
However, if Elias placed a scale listing the advantages against the disadvantages of having the Passenger in his head, then the scales would tilt heavily towards the bad side.
Elias could live through a lot of pain and discomfort, but the Passenger had taken too much in exchange for its gifts.
He was a pragmatic individual who understood that in this world, power dictated your standards of life.
Nothing else mattered. Not comfort, not love, not peace, only power, and the Passenger, for all its gifts, denied Elias power.
What made this denial especially painful was that this power denied to him had been granted to all humans and beasts when they reached a certain point in their development, it was the awakening of the Lumina inside their heart, with it, an individual or even beasts could either follow the path of Miracles or follow the path of Damnation to become Siphons.