Chapter : 56

  He walked forward, passing straight through the now-empty doorway. He looked at the pile of fine dust that used to be a heavily fortified bunker. Glum was gone. The second lieutenant had been completely erased without The Sovereign even raising his voice.

  "Two down," The Sovereign stated coldly, adjusting the cuffs of his dark cloak. "Your earth was just dust waiting to be swept away."

  There was only one lieutenant left on the lower levels. The final target was a man named Blight.

  Blight was different from the others. He wasn't a master of a specific element like fire or earth. He was a close-combat specialist who used dirty tactics, speed, and raw physical enhancement to sughter his enemies. He was the most feared enforcer in the Curse Organization.

  The Sovereign walked down to the ground floor, heading toward the main storage warehouse attached to the back of the tower. He knew Blight was in there, managing the weapons armory.

  The Sovereign didn't sneak in. He pushed the rge metal doors of the warehouse open.

  Blight was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by crates of weapons. He was a tall, incredibly muscur man covered in tattoos. When the doors opened, Blight turned around. He saw the bck cloak. He saw the glowing purple eye on the mask.

  Blight didn't ask questions. He didn't waste time talking like Mali or hiding like Glum. He just attacked.

  Blight drew two long, jagged swords and rushed forward, his body glowing with a sick, purple physical enhancement magic. He moved incredibly fast, leaping into the air and bringing both swords down toward The Sovereign’s head in a deadly, cross-shaped ssh.

  The Sovereign didn't move out of the way. He just stood there, letting the bdes come at him.

  Right before the swords hit his mask, The Sovereign reached up with his bare hands. He casually pinched the sharp steel bdes between his fingers. The massive, full-strength attack stopped instantly. The bdes didn't cut his gloves. They just stopped moving, as if they had hit a solid mountain.

  Blight’s eyes bulged out of his head. He pulled with all his might, trying to rip his swords free, but The Sovereign’s grip was absolute.

  "You are quick to act," The Sovereign said, his deep voice carrying a tone of extreme disappointment. "But your actions are meaningless. You swing pieces of metal like a child pying with toys."

  With a simple twist of his wrists, The Sovereign snapped both of the jagged steel swords perfectly in half. The metal shattered into pieces that cttered loudly against the warehouse floor.

  Blight stumbled backward, looking at his broken weapons in pure shock. But he was a street fighter; he didn't give up. He pulled back a fist, aiming a heavily enhanced punch right at The Sovereign’s chest.

  This time, The Sovereign decided he was done pying the waiting game. But he wasn't going to kill Blight. Killing him would be too easy. The Sovereign needed to send a message to the hundreds of thugs sleeping in the tower. He needed to make sure they woke up completely demoralized.

  The Sovereign moved forward.

  Before Blight could even throw his punch, The Sovereign’s hand blurred. He delivered a precise, open-handed strike directly to Blight’s right shoulder. There was a loud, sickening crack. The joint completely shattered. Blight let out a highly pitched scream, his right arm falling uselessly to his side.

  Blight tried to kick, but The Sovereign stepped inside his guard and delivered a fast, surgical strike to Blight’s left knee. Another crack echoed through the warehouse. Blight’s leg buckled, and he crashed down onto the concrete floor.

  "Ahhhh! What are you?!" Blight screamed, rolling on the ground in total agony. He had never felt pain like this. He had never felt so completely helpless.

  The Sovereign stepped over him, looking down at the broken, crying enforcer. He delivered two more precise, non-lethal strikes to Blight’s remaining arm and leg. Blight was completely dismantled. He could not stand, he could not fight, and he could barely move. He was heavily injured, bleeding on the cold floor, completely at the mercy of the masked monster standing above him.

  But the final blow never came.

  The Sovereign simply crossed his arms over his chest, his cloak settling smoothly around his legs. The glowing purple eye of his mask stared down at the ruined lieutenant.

  "I am leaving you alive," The Sovereign stated, his voice completely devoid of any pity or emotion. "Not because you deserve mercy. I am leaving you alive so that when the rest of your pathetic organization finds you, they will ask you what happened."

  Blight coughed, staring up at the terrifying figure in pure, unfiltered horror.

  "You will tell them that you were broken by a shadow," The Sovereign commanded, his words burning themselves into Blight’s mind. "You will tell them that your magic, your weapons, and your numbers mean absolutely nothing. You will be a living, breathing warning to everyone in this tower. Tomorrow, a Royal Princess is going to walk through those front doors. And when she does, I want every single thug in this building to be completely paralyzed by fear."

  The Sovereign turned his back on the crying, bleeding man.

  The herd had been thinned. The three top lieutenants were out of the picture. Two were dead, and the third was left as a calcuted psychological message to terrify the rest of the gang. When the mob found Blight like this, their morale would absolutely plummet. Princess Iris and the girls would not have to fight a confident army tomorrow; they would be fighting a terrified, broken mob.

  The night hunt on the lower levels was completely finished. The Sovereign’s pn was working perfectly.

  But his overtime shift wasn't quite over yet. He tilted his head slightly, looking up toward the ceiling. High above him, at the very top of the Doom Tower, the master of Curse magic was still waiting.

  The Sovereign let out a quiet, cold breath. It was time to pay a visit to Vane.

  ----

  The staircase leading to the very top floor of the Doom Tower was completely empty. The Sovereign walked up the concrete steps without making a single sound. His bck cloak, decorated with elegant gold embroidery, flowed quietly behind him. He did not rush. He did not sneak. He just walked with the slow, steady confidence of someone who owned the building.

  Below him, the lower levels of the skyscraper were a total mess. The three top lieutenants were out of the picture, and the remaining guards were either unconscious or too terrified to move. But The Sovereign was not thinking about them anymore. He was focused on the penthouse.

  He reached the top of the stairs. In front of him were two massive, heavy wooden doors.

  Internally, underneath the terrifying bck mask with the single glowing purple eye, Ken Eliot let out a long, quiet sigh.