119:
Tom blinked as surprise spilled into his features.
He watched as the man who had introduced himself not by a name, but a title, the Gatekeeper, crumple and fall to the ground with a loud thud.
It was true, Tom hadn’t been holding back at all in his fight against the Gatekeeper. That was because he had no idea what threat he posed, what cards he possessed.
He was in a different kingdom, faced with a new threat whose nature he couldn’t evaluate besides making educated guesses with the help of Active Shroud—Maya.
To hold back would be to tempt fate.
But Tom hadn’t intended to kill the Gatekeeper. Not so easily, at least. There was no real grudge between them and the man ought to have known much about the tower, considering he was ambushing those that tried to seek entrance.
A part of him felt sick at how easily the man had went down and with it, a human life, but he quashed it mercilessly.
There would be a time to ruminate upon the weapon this new world was shaping him to become, a time to let free the feelings that been building in his chest from the moment he had killed the head of the Nottrakon Family’s Elite Guard.
But it was not now.His gaze shifted to Aleph, who stood before one of the two assassins clad in black, their faces concealed beneath cloth and their hair tucked behind hoods, leaving behind only glaring eyes that bore down on the woman that held a rare artifact to his throat.
Tom winced as he noticed that a large crystal had embedded itself in the man’s right leg, likely having shattered clean through bone.
“Don’t kill him,” Tom hurriedly called out. Aleph was not as merciful as him and she did not deliberate as hard as he did upon the value of a life. She had been through too much to show weakness to others.
Zirel continued to blend in with his environment, not revealing himself in case another threat showed.
“You heard him,” Aleph directed a pointed gaze to the man at her feet. “Don’t make any sudden moves and you might get out of this in one piece.”
The cloth wrapping on the assassin’s face rumpled as he grimaced and then nodded.
Having dealt with that, Tom approached the Gatekeeper’s still corpse. He had claimed to be a soldier and Tom did not doubt his words. A new dimension to card combat, one that Tom was still in the process of figuring out, was synergy.
The Gatekeeper had used that synergy to impressive effect. Had mirror world not been such a perfect counter to powerful projectile attacks and had his own stats not been powered by a Ephemeral rarity card, an easily dealt with blow would’ve been a lethal one. Shaping metal into shuriken and then superheating them to make deadly hot bullet-equivalents made Tom’s own use of his cards seem like he was randomly swinging around a bludgeon in the hopes that it would hit something.
Sure, it did hit more than a few things, but what if he learned to truly master his abilities?
Tom reached for the Gatekeeper’s glaive, gripping it with a single arm and having little trouble.
He analyzed it.
[Metal Glaive, Common
Description: A metal glaive that has been formed, not crafted by a card wielder capable of manipulating metal, its shaft encased in ornamental wooden casing.]
“I thought as much,” Tom muttered as he flung the glaive away into the distance, as the worthless scrap of metal it was. The ornamental wooden casing had made it appear like it was an artifact and that was precisely the deception the Gatekeeper had been relying upon.
Tom shook his head, banishing the self-doubt that was clouding his judgment. For the second time in a row, he had been tricked into believing something to be an artefact when it wasn’t. But even if he did, it was irrelevant. Tom had to treat every unidentified weapon as an artifact, anything else would be complacent.
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Then, he looted Jerrick.
The man had lusted for his belongings, only to contribute everything he had on him to Tom’s coffers.
And some coffers they were, as Tom’s eyes widened.
He had expected an uncommon card, but the Gatekeeper had lived up to his name in something. He had two.
[Card Name: Heat Infusion
Rank: Uncommon
Level: 1
Ability:
Infuse: Allows the wielder to infuse heat into both organic and non-organic matter upon making physical contact with them. Makes the wielder immune to any extreme temperatures that are a direct result of using Infuse on another living or non-living entity.
SP cost scales with increases in infused temperature.]
[Card Name: Arcsteel Weaver
Rank: Uncommon
Level: 1
Ability:
Blacksmith: Allows the wielder to convert SP into sheets Arcsteel, a specialized alloy known for its sharpness and magic conductivity. The sheets of Arcsteel may be used to absorb magical attacks targeted at the wielder]
‘The Heat Infusion uncommon looks about right, but that dude was definitely not creating sheets of metal— he was shaping them like it was dough. That’s probably the second ability, which makes the card markedly less useful until it’s got some levels pumped in,’ Tom thought, his eyes narrowing before he dismissed the notification.
“Your boss was quite wealthy,” Tom remarked as he walked closer to the assassin that had tried to jump their group.
“Fuck you,” The assassin spat, his curse more croaked out than yelled.
“The hatred in your voice is quite baffling,” Tom replied as he came to a stop next to Aleph, taking in the venom in the assassin’s gaze. “Did you not just try to murder us and fail miserably? Why the heck are you angry at us?”
The assassin coughed, his lungs heaving from what was either genuine need or sheer anger.
“Why couldn’t you… have surrendered? The Shadow Guild does not kill those who have given up arms,” The assassin vented more than asked, his tone raspy as he took deep gasps of air in between a string of words.
Tom noticed that both The Gatekeeper and now, even his assassin, kept invoking the name of their guild, as if that would allow him to get out of the situation.
“The Shadow Guild. Is that name supposed to mean anything to me?” Tom asked, his lips perking up in curiosity as he bit the low hanging fruit the assassin had dangled before him.
The assassin’s eyes widened in realization for a moment, then he shook his head and continued, “I don’t know where you come from, but it doesn’t matter. No matter how strong you are, you can’t fight an entire guild. Even if you run to the tower, do you really think we don’t have connections within when we’re headquartered this close to it?”
Tom’s eyes narrowed as he considered the assassin’s words, unable to tell if it was a bluff or not. Any trouble he got into in the outside world, he didn’t give a damn. But within the tower, which he knew absolutely nothing about? That would be bad news.
“I don’t suppose you’d tell us where this Shadow Guild of yours is headquartered?” Tom asked.
“You might have killed two of ours, but in the eyes of the Shadow Guild only Jerrick was important. If you surrender, I can take you back to the headquarters. You will be given a chance to buy back your freedom once you’ve earned enough to pay for the loss you’ve caused. We are killers, but so are you— and we have a price.”
Tom sighed, before he tried a final time, “You won’t just tell us the location and get on with your life elsewhere?”
The assassin’s lips were pursed, before he shook his head, “I don’t know if you want revenge or power, but nothing you can do to me will compare to what the Shadow Guild will if they find out my involvement. And they will. Make the smart choice, please. There are thirty of us in the guild at any moment, there is no way for you to win.”
Tom sighed and then shook his head, before speaking,“Aleph, make him look in my eyes.”
Aleph raised an eyebrow at him.
“It’s an ability that lets me discern truths from falsehoods,” Tom explained, before the assassin.
“If you think a card of yours can breach my mental defenses, you’re sorely mistaken. We would not make for very good assassins without a high mental stat,” The assassin shook his head, before allowing a mirthful laugh to escape him.
That didn’t stop Aleph from pulling his chin up so he was forced to look in Tom’s direction.
The assassin continued with what was either the truth, what he believed to be the truth or a bluff as he looked Tom in the eyes.
A second passed.
Tom turned away, a longer sigh escaping his lips.
“I have what I need,” Tom said. “You can do whatever you want with him,” He said, before walking away to where he suspected Zirel to be.
Aleph’s eyes widened in a mix between incredulousness and terror as she understood what had just happened.
That didn’t stop her from bringing her sword down on the assassin’s neck.
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