The trio of adventurers stopped off at Noma a final time before going their separate ways for a while.

  Marcus was going to be spending quite a few days to reconnect with his parents, a choice that was all his own with little input from Logan. The Spellthief was just happy it turned out as best as it could, there were many possible reasons for why Marcus was given up and Logan knew the harsher ones plagued his friend’s mind.

  Amalia would “take time off” from adventuring for a bit, though she spent most of her idle time working in the forge. She had mentioned how she never thought about doing such hands-on craftsmanship work, but with the abilities she had alongside the power of magic to aid her, she said it was probably the best hobby-turned-profession she could have asked for.

  Logan spent the whole day in Noma offering up his services, using his foundation cuff, just like his guild house he was able to reconstruct the huts of the small farming village. Since they were much smaller and were made up of softer materials, lacking much in the way of mortar, as well as Logan being much higher level than the last time, the Spellthief was able to repair all the homes and make them better than before.

  “There’s no amount of coin I could offer to pay for all of this. All of us of Noma thank you dearly, Logan”, Jrizan spoke as he clasped his hand over Logan’s shoulder.

  As the pair looked over the repaired village, Logan replied, “It was little trouble for me, Jrizan. I already paid my debt back to you, but it always feels nice to help those who deserve it. The attack from the plague worm was far from what you did deserve.”

  Jrizan coughed a laugh, “Did you find any reasons as to why it came here like that?”

  Logan slowly shook his head, “Nothing concrete. That one shouldn’t return, but I will look into preventative measures for any others”, he half-lied. “I don’t want to worry him with those shadows and undead”, he thought.

  “I suppose it was a good choice to offer you a ride all those months ago, ay?”

  “Good thing I wasn’t a bandit”, Logan laughed.

  “Oh, they’d rush me rather than have me stop. It was a good enough wager to help you. Too many adventurers fall to that seven-day timer or what-have-you.”

  Logan nodded, “Speaking of helping people, it’s about time I get back. A lot to look into back at the guild.”

  Jrizan turned to offer a hand to Logan, “Well, it was great to see you again. Hopefully next time it’s under better circumstances.”

  Logan shook his friend’s hand, “Same here.”

  Warping back to Gauntlet, Logan had a weight lift from his shoulders as he opened the door to his guild. A hearty welcome from the other guildies did a lot to raise his spirits, as did the offer of food and drink from Advelt.

  Resting on the couch with his refreshments, Logan was treated to a few talks with his guildies. Many talked about recent quests, while others asked about his most recent exploration. The mages in particular spoke of the tomes they had been reading in the foyer, either requesting aid in understanding them or if they could read specific books.

  It was a calmer end to a night that brought Logan to a long night’s rest he owed from recent work. Before falling asleep, he finally accepted his System quest rewards for the plague worm, mostly focused on Marcus this time but with a few crafting recipes and components for Logan to use later.

  Another day arrived with many more tasks for Logan to undertake. He had a tower of books to read and a long list of items to craft. However, another note at the guild’s counter had the rest of his day set for him.

  The letter read: “Dear Logan, please find enclosed several marked locations for under market activities. Where possible, refer to the enclosed list of names and illustrations of wanted criminals. Due to the sheer number, we only require certain individuals for apprehension, all others are on a kill-on-sight order.”

  Logan flipped through the parchment as he scanned over a long list of names and sketchwork. This was the fruit of his allies’ labour for finding those hired or hiring to take down his guild. It made his job easier that many could just be killed, and at this point, he had little issues with it.

  His guildies were still on alert for attacks, and the collateral of these traitors was too high to simply ignore. The hunting of innocent individuals burned Logan’s blood, putting them down was a good act in his mind.

  Checking over his gear, Logan left the guild and found a secluded spot to turn invisible. With no sensors on him, the Spellthief gripped his mask and changed his visage into that of a spiky red-haired man with deep red eyes. This was going to be shown as a cleansing of the underground by another member, taking off heat from Logan’s normal activities.

  Visiting the first under market locale, Logan was surprised to see it operated so out in the open. A large inn was set up a few miles away from the capital to the northeast, its drinking hall flush with patrons both burly and slight.

  Logan’s eyes scanned over the room, Identification worked on everyone, revealing only four of the twenty-eight people were innocents who picked the wrong place. With a twist of his wrists, the wooden boards of the windows slammed shut, the front doors slammed closed, and all locks clicked over as the fires atop candles blew out.

  In darkness, Logan opened his blood-red eyes and picked out two pairs of crimson daggers he had crafted for him specially for this.

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  Calls of confusion echoed in the hall as the traitors all stood, though four fell quickly as Logan used Sleep 2nd on the innocents to get them out of the way. Light Ally sprites appeared from some of the better-prepared groups, while others tried to group up to get better angles on what was going on.

  “C’mon out!” a man shouted.

  Logan darted to his first group of targets, grabbing onto the floating mick to absorb it and make the room darker still. With a lunge, Logan dove both daggers into the eyes of the aggressor, falling with the man to the floor, and drawing dual-blades up into a cross slash against a mage.

  Flicking his daggers up, Logan used Telekinesis to pull two chairs into the backs of two others, grabbing his daggers quickly to slice at the stumbling targets, spinning around to cut at their throats.

  Turning to face another group that was charging his direction, Logan threw both daggers at the front woman, bringing her to the floor, and continuing to use Telekinesis to hurl the non-unoccupied weapons to impale the others to the ground.

  Bringing his hands up, Logan controlled more and more weapons, causing them to soar around the darkened room of respite. As the weapons sang through the air, they smashed and sliced apart the traitors, filling the wood floor with blood and corpses.

  It took only a few minutes to clear the room with daggers and demon powers. Logan planted the innkeeper on his own counter with a dagger in his shoulder to pin him down.

  With a husky voice not like his own, Logan demanded, “Parrot. Tell me where you get your patrons and where they go.”

  The man attempted to spit at Logan, but it merely stopped mid-air as Logan willed it back into the innkeeper's face. Slamming the man’s head into the counter, Logan knocked out one of the targets he had to bring back.

  Leaving the corpses behind as a warning, Logan Teleported the rest back to the guardhouse for processing.

  This continued for a few more days, Logan’s new persona gaining the title of “Bloodletter” by those he saved and those he captured. There were very few that could put up a fight against him anymore. The number of people over level 15 was around a few thousand, with Logan at 28, nearly 29, there was little chance of facing a hard adversary. Anyone with this power could simply retire with the money they made too.

  One of the final areas to clear required a bit more effort, though. A larger estate on the outskirts of a neighbouring town, owned by the mayor but visited rarely except for parties. Logan quickly found that the place was frequented via underground tunnels and teleportation circles. A heavily-funded bunch who saw fit to take down vampire and vampire sympathisers alike.

  Not quite the AV Club, but a different bunch who were even more adamant about their hatred for the unaging kind. Asking around town and under the capabilities of invisibility, Logan was able to oversee and overhear quite a bit about those who went to the estate.

  The transformative powers of the oni mask were great, but the stipulation that he couldn’t appear as someone who existed meant he couldn’t impersonate those who went to the estate easily. Instead, it would be a full assault at night.

  During one of their larger meetings, a ball of sorts, Logan prowled the rooftops to peer through the skylights. A good hundred or more attendees, ranging from noble benefactors to aged adventurers. With the levels being spread about from 1 all the way to 25, Logan would be able to deal with a majority of the party in an instant.

  Identification didn’t show any connection to the issues that Garentaeous had spoken of before, but Logan was sure his vampiric friends would be happy at any discriminators’ deaths.

  Using a similar tactic, Logan cast Telekinesis to close and lock all the exits. Opening a skylight, Logan dropped under Invisibility and dropped thirty daggers into the air. With swinging of his arms and recasting of spells, Logan had his blades fly through the bodies of countless individuals.

  The daggers became visible only a few feet away from their targets, at which point it was too late for defence. Steel cut through flesh and erupted on the other sides of their bodies, u-turning and spinning around, the daggers soared endlessly through the weaker members of the ball.

  Screams and shouts filled the room, as did the bodies as they hit the floor. Logan finally landed, still invisible, as his speedy unseen movements danced the daggers into fleeing members of the congregation.

  Unarmoured, but not unarmed, some of the higher-levelled traitors drew weapons and shields to deflect the daggers. Some were able to pick out the invisible attacker and pointed towards Logan. Understanding those who could do him harm, Logan used Dimensional Jaunt and Backstab changed into MP Thievery to take down any who could see him.

  As the people attempted to flee down corridors or into other rooms, Logan used his demonic powers to pull down statues at a distance, crashing them down to create insurmountable debris for those who would flee.

  Eventually, there lacked any weak targets for Logan to go after, instead, only the stronger adventurers with weapons and shields. They called out, “Stop! We can pay double—triple whatever our bounty is!”

  With his new husky voice, Logan commanded, “Parrot and live. Bring up arms and die.”

  A few fell to their knees and dropped their armaments, while others saw fit to fight to the end.

  “Here’s there!” a Rogue pointed where Logan spoke from, Dashing towards the spot.

  Before the Rogue could get close to Logan, the Spellthief lifted his fingers and impaled the man with ten daggers.

  Seeing their time to flee, a Knight aimed at a window and attempted to use General’s Charge to bash through it. Again, Logan flicked his wrist and had the man impaled in the back with another thirty daggers.

  The two displays of punishment for disagreement led more of the survivors to drop to the floor in surrender. With a smirk, Logan apparated behind them and knocked them out.

  Appearing at the end of the assault, Logan’s body had a slightly strong gust of wind to it as he levelled up again and gained the proper title.

  “Level up! Gain: 8 HP, +1 Str, +2 Agi, +1 Con, +2 Int, +1 Wis, +1 Cha. You have 1 attribute point to spend.”

  “You have gained the ‘Bloodletter’ title.”

  “Bloodletter: Bandits and traitors despise the sight of red. Red eyes and hair denote their death and it has become an omen for them. Your alternate visage causes many who know of the tales to surrender immediately, while many are more inclined to give you intel in exchange for their life. You have gained 1 skill point to distribute.”

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