Stanley – POV

  We were on our way to the merchant district. The wagons creaking beneath the weight of barrels filled with mead, spoils from a recent 'incident’ with the merchants in our caravan. The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across the cobbled road as we made our way toward the city gates. Xander led the convoy, seated atop the first wagon with his usual stoic demeanor. I followed behind in the second, reins in hand, while Jake brought up the rear, humming a tune far too cheerful for the nature of our errand.

  Earlier that morning, Xander approached us with a request. He needed help transporting the wagons into the city. Apparently, Krizek and Leshner had secured a buyer. Someone willing to take the mead off our hands, no questions asked. That in itself wasn’t unusual. What raised eyebrows was the peculiar instruction that followed: once we reached the designated meeting point in the merchant quarter, we were to leave immediately. No lingering, no questions, no involvement.

  It was a strange request, and it left me uneasy. Who exactly were they selling to? Why the secrecy? Was there a risk of confrontation? An aggressive merchant group, perhaps? Or worse...city guards on the take?

  Still, I told Xander we’d help. After all, we served the same noble house, House Mayweather-Abensberg. Our loyalty wasn’t just expected; it was hammered into us by a scared oath. Xander had merely chuckled at my agreement, brushing off my concerns with a wave of his hand. “Better if you’re not seen at the deal,” he said. “We don’t want anything traced back to us...or to the House.”

  It made sense. Plausible deniability was a valuable currency in our line of work. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Xander, Krizek, and Leshner were all capable in their own right...more than capable, in fact, but this felt different. Dangerous.

  Still, I didn’t press the issue. And so, here we were, rolling through the city gates under the watchful eyes of the guards. As we passed, Xander gave a subtle signal, two fingers tapped to his temple, then a downward motion. We pulled up our face masks in unison, obscuring our identities. The guards didn’t question us. A few coins had ensured their silence.

  The city streets were already bustling with early morning activity. Merchants shouted over one another, hawking their wares to bleary-eyed customers. Children darted between stalls, and the scent of fresh bread mingled with the less pleasant odors of livestock and unwashed bodies. We kept our heads down and our pace steady, ignoring the curious glances cast our way.

  As we entered the merchant quarter, the atmosphere shifted. The noise of the market faded, replaced by the quiet hum of industry. We turned off the main road, following Xander’s lead into a narrower lane lined with warehouses. The crowds thinned, replaced by the occasional laborer or dockhand. The buildings loomed over us, their stone facades casting long shadows across the cobblestones.

  Eventually, we turned into a narrow alleyway, the sound of the city fading into an eerie silence. The air felt heavier here, as if the very walls were holding their breath. We came to a halt in front of a massive stone building; its iron-banded doors shut tight. A moment later, they creaked open, and Leshner stepped out; his ever-present grin plastered across his face.

  “Greetings, friends! Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a theatrical bow.

  “Hey Leshner,” I replied, climbing down from the wagon. “Where do you want these?”

  “Oh, just leave them there,” he said, gesturing casually. “Our buyers will handle the rest.”

  “Where’s Krizek?” I asked, scanning the shadows behind him.

  “Inside,” Leshner replied with a shrug. “Still negotiating.”

  Jake narrowed his eyes. “Everything alright?”

  “Absolutely,” Leshner said, flashing another grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “You sure you don’t need help?” I offered my hand resting on the hilt of my blade.

  “Oh no, no. We’ve got it covered. You boys head on back.”

  I glanced at Jake, who merely shrugged. As we turned to leave, I noticed Xander wasn’t following.

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  “Hey,” I called. “Aren’t you coming with us?”

  Xander shook his head. “I’ll catch up later.”

  I hesitated, but something in his tone told me not to press further. So, we left them there, in that quiet alley, and made our way back through the city. Still, a knot of unease twisted in my gut. They seemed confident, but confidence could be a mask. I could only hope they knew what they were doing.

  Krizek - POV

  The vault was nearly full. I moved methodically, cataloging each coin, gem, and artifact with meticulous care. The pocket dimension I maintained was straining at its seams, bulging with the weight of our acquisitions. If I didn’t expand it soon, we’d risk losing everything. But the ritual required to do so was no small feat. It would drain my fel reserves completely, rendering me inert for days. I would need to inform the master before proceeding.

  As I pondered the logistics of the expansion, the heavy door creaked open. Leshner strolled in, followed by Xander.

  “They’ve left,” Leshner announced. “The goods are outside.”

  “Good,” I replied, setting down a ledger.

  How do you want to proceed?” Leshner asked.

  “We’ll take all the treasures and dispose of them,” I said, gesturing to the bound and gagged merchants slumped against the far wall.

  “And the mead?” Leshner asked.

  “There’s another buyer. A different kind of merchant, one less... human.”

  Leshner’s eyes gleamed while looking at the bound merchants. “Can I play with them now?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but leave no evidence. And don’t take them all. I need two for the ritual.”

  Xander crossed his arms. “Why does the master need all this junk?”

  “You still don’t understand the human world,” I said, shaking my head. “They value these trinkets. They use them to gain influence, to build empires. Our master may be human, but he is a visionary. He seeks to build a kingdom here, and for that, he needs wealth, human wealth.”

  Xander scoffed. “They should bow to him without bribes.”

  “Perhaps. But unlike you Voidwalkers, we demons understand the art of manipulation. Power is not always brute force. Sometimes, it’s subtle. Subversive.”

  Leshner clapped his hands. “Can we start now?”

  The bound merchants began to squirm, sensing their fate. Their muffled cries echoed off the stone walls.

  “Bring me the two oldest,” I said. “I’ve already informed the master. Once the ritual begins, I’ll return to the Nether to recover. The pocket dimension will be tripled in size. Store everything inside once I’m gone.”

  Leshner and Xander dragged two of the merchants toward the fel circle I had etched into the floor. Candles flickered to life as I lit them one by one, the flames casting eerie shadows across the walls. I drew my dagger, its blade etched with infernal runes as I approached the first man.

  “Careful with the circle,” I warned. “If you smudge it, I’ll need more blood to redraw it.”

  “Alright, alright,” Leshner muttered. “Just don’t take any more of my toys.”

  I knelt beside the first merchant, gripping his hair tightly. “Once the ritual is complete, I’ll be gone. You two...and Shive, will protect the master in my absence.”

  “Shive?” Leshner asked.

  “The succubus,” I said.

  “Ah yes, my kin. Why she chose to manifest as a human girl is beyond me. She is useless to the master as she is right now” Leshner said,

  “She is his consort. She chose to manifest as his age. I once thought it foolish. Now I see the wisdom. As the master grows, she will grow alongside him, making their bond stronger. She will be his confidant and his final line of defense. You would have been the consort if the master was female” I said.

  “Yeah...yeah still, I am more than pleased with the master. I expect great things from him and for us,” Leshner said.

  “Time to begin” I said.

  Leshner nodded, then paused. “Wait. The merchant buying the mead...what’s his name? Where can he be found? Should we kill him too?”

  “No,” I said sharply. “His name is Lyle. He is at the building with a sign etched on it, Lyle and Sons. About three buildings away from us. He is not to be touched. Once he pays, introduce him to the master. He may prove useful.”

  “Understood,” Leshner said, turning to Xander. “Shall we?”

  They moved toward the remaining captives. One of the merchants managed to spit out his gag.

  “Please,” he begged. “I can pay you more. Just let me go.”

  I leaned in close, baring my serrated teeth. “I don’t want your gold. I do this for the glory of my master... and because I enjoy it.”

  He screamed.

  “You can scream all you like,” I said, raising the dagger. “No one will hear you.”

  With a swift motion, I slit his throat. Blood gushed into the circle, and I began the incantation.

  “Hanash ka xerzok kaah nat...”

  The ritual had begun.