While Liam, shrouded in his invisibility cloak, watched the dilapidated manor in a rural New York area, he observed several Klan members in white hooded masks and robes, reveling and imbibing. He bided his time until only four remained and then deployed a blackout wardstone, which nullified all instant transportation and communication spells.
As the wardstone activated, a faint hum reverberated through the air, and an invisible barrier settled over the area. Any chance of escape or magical reinforcements for the Klan members was now gone. The remaining four, oblivious to their impending doom, lounged around the flickering fire, swapping crude jokes and draining their drinks.
Liam watched silently from the cover of the underbrush, his invisibility cloak rendering him undetectable. His heartbeat remained steady, his wand gripped lightly in his hand.
He had spent hours waiting for these men—those who had carried out the dirty work for others like the Noah family, snuffing out the only real love he'd known. Tonight, they would pay for it.
Two of the men staggered to their feet, laughing as they stumbled toward the manor's edge to relieve themselves. The others stayed by the fire, one refilling his flask, the other lazily poking at the embers with a stick. This was the moment Liam had waited for.
With a flick of his wand, Liam summoned ice spears. They materialized in the cold night air, deadly and precise. A second later, two spears shot forward with an icy whistle—impaling the standing men before they even had time to scream.
A wet gurgle escaped one as the frozen lance pierced his chest, pinning him against the ground. The other collapsed with a dull thud, limbs twitching briefly before going still.
Liam's heart raced as he watched the ice spears skewer two of the Klan members, their surprised gasps cut short as the cold, lethal shards impaled them to the ground.
The remaining two at the fire were stunned by the sudden attack, but before they could comprehend what had happened.
"Entangle!"
Liam whispered.
Thick vines erupted from the earth, conjured with unnatural strength, wrapped around their legs and torsos, dragging them down to the ground with the force of a vice. They struggled helplessly, their hands reaching for the wands tucked into their robes.
One struggled violently, but the more he fought, the tighter the magical plants constricted, cutting off circulation to his limbs. His companion barely managed to raise his wand before a sharp stinging spell from Liam's own wand knocked it from his hand.
Liam, still concealed by his invisibility cloak, approached them calmly, the shadows of the night giving him all the cover he needed. He didn't need to rush—these men weren't going anywhere. The blackout wardstone ensured no one could teleport or send a magical cry for help. They were as good as dead, and they didn't even know it yet.
One of the Klan members, a burly man with a mask half-torn from his struggle, managed to spit out a few words, his voice trembling.
"Who...who's out there?!"
He gasped, panicking raising his voice as the vines bound him tighter.
"Show yourself, coward!"
"Hehehe...You won't live long enough to know."
Liam stepped forward, his voice as cold as the magic that impaled their comrades. He still veiled by the shadowy cloak, pulled back the hood of his cloak just enough for his icy eyes to gleam in the dim light.
"But, me a COWARD?"
Liam whispered to himself, a smirk playing on his lips at the irony. It was the Klan who had originally first created the blackout wardstone, taking the lives of innocents under the veil of night, their identities hidden behind masks.
A flick of his wrist, and the Entangle spell tightened, squeezing the air from their lungs. They choked, gasping and writhing, but no sound would escape the blackout wardstone's influence.
"W-what do you want?"
The other Klan member stammered, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"W-we can pay you! Whatever you want!"
Liam's wand flicked almost imperceptibly, and the vines around the man's throat constricted tighter, cutting off his air.
"What do I want?"
Liam's voice was low, measured.
"I want ANSWERS!"
The other man, pale and trembling, tried to reason with him.
"Please... We—we just follow orders. The higherups just give us names. We were only following orders!"
Liam knelt beside the bound man, the flickering glow from the fireplace casting shadows on his face. His cold gaze never wavered as he whispered.
"And you followed them… without hesitation."
The ice spear that hovered nearby shot forward suddenly, piercing the floor an inch away from the man's head. The survivor froze, a whimper escaping his lips.
"You raided my home."
Liam's voice dripped with quiet fury.
"You murdered my family. You celebrated their deaths like a twisted game!"
Liam's grip on his wand remained steady, his expression cold and unwavering. The glow at the tip intensified, tendrils of frost crawling across the ground toward the terrified man.
"Wait! I—I'll tell you anything! I can give you information! I—I know the identity of the higher-up who gave us his name! His inner circle! I know where he lives. It's the perfect chance—"
The Klan member stammered, his eyes wide with panic as he thrashed against the remnants of the Entangle spell.
"Just don't kill me!"
Liam tilted his head slightly, flicked his wand again, and the vines loosened up letting the man breath to talk to him. His voice was low and devoid of emotion
"Alright then, let's make a deal... If everything you tell me is true I won't harm you further. But, if you even lie to me once you'll forfeit your magic core and your lifespan to me. So, do we have a deal?"
"Y—yes!"
The Klan member was confident he wouldn't lose his magic core or lifespan, as magic contracts are only binding if signed or if the mage swears allegiance to a higher magical authority. Since Liam had done neither, he believed he was safe.
"His name is William Stryker. His home is in Jersey City, NJ, at 106 Grant Ave. But it wasn't just Stryker who gave the order! There's a whole council—hidden members. They're... they're all connected to old bloodlines—magic families who have kept their power through secrecy and violence. Stryker's just the most visible one!"
Liam's wand lowered slightly, the glow pulsing.
"Names. I want every name."
The man gulped, beads of sweat mixing with the frost biting into his skin.
"I—okay! Stryker works with two others. Gavin LeClair, from New Orleans—he controls the logistics. And... Victor Hale, based in Washington. He's their enforcer, the one who handles the dirty work."
Liam's eyes narrowed.
"And what about Stryker's defenses?"
"It's unguarded. So, you can easily get your answers from him..."
The Klan member gazed at Liam, anticipating that he would honor his promise.
"Come on, man. I told you the truth—!"
As he completed his plea, the Klan member began to disintegrate, his body relinquishing its magic core and life force. He swiftly crumbled to dust, carried away by a soft breeze.
The last remaining Klan member began to panic.
"What the hell, man? You said you wouldn't harm him."
"I didn't do anything to him... But can you tell where your friend lied?"
As Liam spoke, the man realized his friend had violated their agreement, and Liam hadn't needed to form a standard magic contract. He assumed it was probably due to Liam's magical Origin, which it wasn't. It was simply one of Liam's magical talents.
"Okay... He lied about the house being unguarded. That place is heavily defended by Old Man Stryker's homunculus guards. And it's not just homunculi—he's got wards that trace magic use in a five-block radius. If you cast anything, he'll know."
The Klan member swallowed hard.
"But there's a way in. There's a service door to his basement, rarely used. No wards. It's... it's your best shot."
Liam's gaze hardened, processing the new information. "
Anything else? Or is that the last of your usefulness?"
The man paled, realizing how little time he had left.
"Wait! One more thing! Stryker's been collecting relics—old ones. I don't know what, but he's obsessed with something called the Binding Stone. It's dangerous—crazy dangerous. I swear, that's all I know!"
Liam stared at the man for a long moment, the glow on his wand slowly dimming. The cold in the air didn't fade, but it stopped spreading.
"You've been helpful."
Relief washed over the Klan member's face for the briefest of moments—until Liam's wand flashed, releasing a single, piercing blast of ice. It struck the man's heart, freezing him instantly. He fell backward, shattering like fragile glass upon impact.
Liam stepped back from the broken remains, his expression unreadable.
A stillness fell over the area, broken only by the crackling of the dying fire and the soft drip of melting ice. Liam stood, his breath even despite the violence that had just unfolded. He walked over to the bodies and cast a quick disintegration spell, reducing the corpses to nothing but dust.
Ding!
[Quest Progress: This Is The Path I Walk. Not You Or Anyone Can Change That]
[Eliminated 4/? Targets]
[New Objective Added: Infiltrate and eliminate William Stryker, a key member of the Klan]
With a deep breath, Liam retrieved the blackout wardstone, the hum of magic fading into the night. He moved methodically and gave the scene one last glance. No one would know who had done this—just as no one would mourn the fallen.
He stood in the silent aftermath of his vengeance, the cold night air settling in. His mind raced through the new information he'd gleaned—William Stryker, a name that would lead him closer to dismantling the very heart of the organization that had shattered his life.
As the dust from the disintegrated Klan members swirled into the breeze, Liam pondered his next move. He couldn't afford to rush this—Stryker's home, now confirmed to be guarded by homunculus protectors, meant he would need a more meticulous plan. It wasn't just about brute force or ice spears; this was a game of strategy.
"Jersey City..."
Liam muttered under his breath as he activated his wand, casting a location spell that began to trace the path toward 106 Grant Ave.
He needed more than just brute force for Stryker. Homunculus guardians were notoriously difficult to kill, and each one had unique weaknesses depending on its creator. If Stryker was as paranoid as he suspected, those weaknesses would be well hidden.
Research first, Liam decided. He would gather every bit of information on Stryker, from his past to his experiments. There was likely a vulnerability, something that could turn the tide in his favor.
But for now, he needed rest. The fight had taken a toll, and his mana reserves were running low despite his upgraded core. With the blackout wardstone pocketed and the evidence erased, Liam vanished back into the shadows, heading toward the safe house he'd established nearby. His journey was far from over, but tonight had been a victory.
As Liam walked away from the manor, his thoughts were calm but focused. He would follow this path, even if it led him deeper into darkness.
This wasn't just vengeance—it was justice. His justice.