The night passed quickly and soon, it was daytime again.
The pair left the tavern after having a short breakfast, ignoring Rudgel's gazes.
The sun hung high in the sky and the searing heat forced people to take cover under the heat.
Azzel and Abaddon moved through the gathering crowd and passed through the busy marketplace.
Azzel recalled the local map of Doba and the countless lines intersecting around it.
'There are many passages around the city, and the old city sewers are one of those rarely used. If I remember, one of its entrances is located in a nearby warehouse.'
They arrived at the eastern quarters with sparse buildings and houses. People could be rarely seen around here which puzzled Azzel. He stopped at a nearby stall, feigning interest in the useless charms displayed.
"You've got an eye for fine things, stranger," the vendor smiled.
Azzel picked up a carved figure and examined its rough craftsmanship. "Quality is worth noticing. Besides, isn't this part of the city a little quieter?"
The vendor glanced around and whispered. "Only a small part of it. See that warehouse over there? The area around is being watched by the city guards and they don't want anyone near it as if it was plagued by something."
Azzel nodded, concealing the interest in his eyes. "I see. It sounds best to avoid this place then."
The vendor chuckled nervously, not saying anything more. Azzel put down the carved figure while pocketing this small piece of information.
They sneaked into an alley far from prying eyes. Azzel extended a faint amount of magic into their steps, concealing their movements.
This small alley was lined with abandoned house, their dark interiors filled with the faint squeaks of rats and other critters.
"This will do," Azzel muttered.
With a focused mind, he channeled the dark magic from his hands and stretched out into the shadows. It formed into two dark tendrils wriggling and caught two unsuspecting rats.
Dark magic surged from him once more and poured into their fragile bodies, causing them to struggle violently before lying still. A moment later, their dead bodies twitched back to motion, reanimated under his control.
"The guards in this area are too organized. This isn't your simple storage site. Something must be hidden here, probably the relic itself," his voice faintly reached. "Go."
The rats scurried forward, blending into the shade of the buildings and passing through countless small gaps as they approached the warehouse. They darted around the guards and weaved through the barrels and crates.
One disappeared into a narrow hole in the western wall, while the other slipped through a gap in the foundation on the eastern side.
Azzel sat in a dark corner of the house, his figure seamlessly blending with the shadows. Abaddon stood silently beside him, his vigilant gaze scanning the area for threats.
Azzel's scarlet eyes closed briefly before he found his vision blurring and shifting into the first rat's perspective.
It moved blindly through the dimly lit interior, its tiny claws scraping softly against the stone floor. Azzel guided it carefully, his senses picking up faint traces of convoluted magical energy that seemed to ripple through the air. He directed the creature toward the source of the disturbance.
Not far ahead, several dark silhouettes could be seen: crates piled haphazardly in the warehouse's storage area. As the rat got closer, faint red seals shimmering with magic energy reflected in its beady eyes.
'These seals… they're not ordinary. Some form of magic is at work here.' Azzel's brows furrowed as frustration crept in. 'Damn it. I've been neglecting my magic practice for too long. Once we leave that tavern, I'll focus on refining my power and understanding the magic system better.'
The rat climbed up the side of a crate with nimble movements. One crate stood slightly ajar, revealing a cloth-wrapped object within.
Azzel commanded the creature to nudge the covering aside, revealing a small obelisk etched with cryptic symbols. The symbols pulsed faintly, glowing like the neon lights of a distant memory.
However, before Azzel could take a good look, he lost connection with the first rat. He gasped, his muscles tensing as he instinctively gripped Abaddon's leg.
The latter glanced down and was confused, his voice filled with concern. "Master... did something happen?"
Azzel furrowed his brows and wondered what caused the rat to suddenly lose connection with him.
'Something must have happened. That obelisk, it's not a simple object, I believe. I need to use the second rat.'
He closed his eyes and focused on the second rat's connection. The small creature lingered in a dark corner of the warehouse, waiting for his commands.
This time, Azzel was more careful, avoiding areas with areas of light or any slight presence of activity.
'Nothing seems to be here. How did that rat die then? Was it because it was too close to the obelisk?'
He felt his focus dwindling by the second and knew he could not keep it up for long. Thus, he decided to forego further exploration of the small obelisk, turning to the other areas instead.
Azzel noticed a small hole in the wall, large enough for the rat to pass through. He carefully controlled it until the rat emerged in a sparse room lit by the flickers of a small candle. The flame illuminated the countless papers cluttered on the desk, and a small orb resting on a small stand.
Azzel was intrigued by its presence and noticed its pulsing rhythm eerily similar to the glow of the small obelisk.
'Is this orb... and that obelisk connected? Are they the relics that stranger was looking for?'
The rat crept closer, its claws brushing the edge of the desk. Azzel scanned the scattered documents through the creature's eyes. Diagrams and notes filled the pages, alongside what appeared to be personal letters, all written in an unfamiliar language.
Near the edge of the desk, his gaze landed on a circular emblem. The design was conspicuous: a shadowy veil of jagged intertwining lines that formed a decaying flower at its center, its petals disintegrating into ash.
'Could it be... the Ashen Veil?'
A foreboding chill ran through Azzel's body. He hadn't yet encountered the cult directly, but their reputation alone was enough to unnerve him. Without hesitation, he commanded the rat to retreat, its small form darting back into the shadows and out of the warehouse.
He severed the connection, and his consciousness snapped back to his body. Azzel's breath hastened, and his forehead dripped with sweat.
He leaned back on the wall, trying to comprehend his recent discoveries.
Abaddon sensed the unusual breathing from Azzel and voiced his concerns as he leaned closer. "Master, it seems that you've seen something troubling inside. Should we leave?"
Azzel shook his head and signaled with his hand. "Let me catch my breath first."
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The cold air of the abandoned house filled his lungs before he exhaled in a slow and controlled breath. His body relaxed slightly, though his mind was racing.
'This warehouse, the city guards, and the Ashen Veil...' Azzel narrowed his eyes, piecing the information he received. 'No wonder that city lord suddenly raised the taxes. It's not just his greed but a ploy. Either to buy off these properties or to drive the merchants out, clearing a way for himself... or rather the Ashen Veil.'
Dark thoughts pervaded his mind. 'They seem to be targeting something, putting the city at risk.'
Azzel removed the pouch from his storage ring and reached for a small parchment. On it were crude illustrations of an orb, matching the one he had seen earlier.
Abaddon took a glance and frowned. "Master, this must be the item the stranger spoke of."
"Yes, and it's inside that warehouse," Azzel tucked the small parchment away. He stood up and sighed. "They seem to be an inventory from the Ashen Veil, their purpose unknown but an important piece."
Abaddon gripped his large sword handle, hesitating on the plan. "Should we proceed with the task, master?"
"You're concerned, aren't you?" Azzel glanced at him, noticing the tense expression on his follower.
"Yes," Abaddon admitted. Despite his absolute loyalty, he would not hesitate to voice his thoughts.
"Whatever that stranger's reasons are, we need to finish this. As for the Ashen Veil, Inquisition, or the Concord, we'll cross paths with them eventually." Azzel snorted, patting the dust on his cloak. "We might as well strike first and take advantage of it."
Abaddon straightened, his towering figure radiating a quiet resolve. "If that is the master's wish, I will follow you to the end."
"No need for such formalities. We are already in dire straits, Abaddon." Azzel turned to leave, waving his hands casually. "We'll move tonight, and deal with that troublesome owner as well."
Abaddon followed after his master's shadow, his boots making inaudible sounds in the damp alleys. A faint amount of sunlight passed through the cracked walls, illuminating Azzel's pale but determined face.
Abaddon broke the silence, asking in a low tone. "Shall we use the underground passages, master? It could provide us a hidden path."
Azzel stopped and leaned on the wall. He took out the local city map and traced some of the passages and entrances nearby. He lifted his hand to his chin, contemplating about something.
"I would have considered it earlier," Azzel admitted. "However, if the Ashen Veil has control of the warehouse, then the tunnels are likely under theirs as well, rigged with magical traps and other elements. They would have used these passages to move undetected throughout the city, and they will not leave them unprotected."
His voice was calm yet firm, with no hint of hesitation. "We will keep them in mind, but they are not a priority."
Abaddon nodded. "Understood, but master, if the plan fails, we may have to use them."
Azzel smirked, his words devoid of humor. "Then let's ensure that the plan doesn't fail."
Abaddon inclined his head slightly, showing his utmost loyalty. "As you wish, master. I will make sure that no obstacles will hinder the execution."
The two retreated to the tavern before dusk, enjoying their last supper under the barmaid's wholehearted service. Azzel caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eyes, catching a small hint of determination on her face.
'Whatever this tavern is up to, I will not let them hinder my progress.' he swore in his heart.
Azzel spent the rest of the day in his room, reading The Nature's Course: A Guide to the Mystical Path. Sunlight streamed through his window, bathing his room in a warm glow.
The room's quietness was the opposite of his mind storming with countless thoughts about tonight's operation, and the book resting on his wooden desk.
Azzel's fingers slid smoothly over the inked pages filled with dense text and illustrations of magic diagrams. The flowing script made it easy to read the structured content, breaking down the fundamentals of the magic system into steps that even a beginner could follow.
The first section compared magic control to taming a wild animal. Force would provoke resistance, but guidance with purpose would lead to cooperation.
'It is all about control and not brute strength.' he thought, tracing the flowing lines of a diagram illustrating a mystical enhanced channeling their magic force from within. 'My spells will consume less energy and be far more effective this way.'
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, recalling the moments when he had used magic. His dark magic spells had been effective to a degree but often fell short, were draining, or lacked refinement.
'I have been careless with my life drain spell. The process should be refined, filtering the harmful essence from the target before infusing it into Abaddon. I've been wasting this spell's potential.'
Azzel frowned slightly.
'My shadow concealment spell... with better control... I might be able to change my aura or completely erase it at will. I can perhaps become invisible to anyone's senses like a ghost moving through the night.'
Another thought crossed his mind. 'Even my Necromancy Initiation could evolve as well. Maybe small critters or animals would not die so easily if I controlled the strength of my magic.'
These realizations filled him with excitement and frustration. He opened his eyes, suppressing himself from channeling his dark magic and drawing some unwanted attention.
'Whew, I need a new spot to train.'
Azzel flipped to the next section. His attention fell on a detailed diagram of the body's magical circuits, labeled as conduits. The book described these pathways as delicate yet resilient, carrying magic energy around the body like blood through the veins.
These conduits would remain flexible and clear if properly controlled, while overuse would lead to injuries and exhaustion of the mystically enhanced individual, or worse, blockages and even death.
Azzel touched his chest and stomach absent-mindedly as if he were locating those conduits himself. He could not visualize them but could feel a small trace of exhaustion pulsing from them.
'No wonder I quickly felt drained when I controlled the small critters with the Necromancy Initiation spell. My conduits are not trained enough for prolonged use.'
He scanned the exercises, which detailed how to strengthen the conduits through consistent and gradual magic energy flow. However, he could not use them for now, so he committed them to his memory.
'I see. Better conduits would lead to better magic control, resulting in faster and stronger spells.'
Azzel persisted on a few more sections of the book. His eyes stopped and caught a section delving into the elemental affinities of the mystical path.
The book explained that each type of magic had a unique relationship to their environment. Fire thrived in chaos and heat, water in calm and fluidity, light in purity and openness.
Dark magic was included, described as a reactive force whose strength lay in its ability to adapt or consume. It was elusive and all-encompassing, requiring extreme precision and capable of infiltrating defenses and unraveling them from within.
Aside from that, dark magic users were very elusive and were not easily discovered, making them a wild variable in the magic system.
Azzel reflected again on his previous attempts to use dark magic. He had mostly treated it like a blunt instrument, trying to overpower his targets. The results were chaotic at best, and dangerous at worst.
"But if I approach some of my spells differently and focus on subtlety and precision…" He smirked, the faint beginnings of a plan forming in his mind. "My enemies won't even see me coming. In case they do, it will be too late for them."
Just as he enjoyed the moment, a cold gust of air breezed into his room, reminding him that night was approaching. A soft knock on his door followed, fully breaking Azzel's concentration.
"Come in."
The door opened and revealed Abaddon, his imposing figure outlined by the dim hallway light. He stepped inside with a careful and watchful expression.
"Master, the night is approaching. I am waiting for your command."
Azzel nodded, brushing his cloak. "Yes, we will move swiftly. Let me get ready in a while first."
Abaddon retreated and closed the door.
Meanwhile, Azzel sighed and closed the book in reluctance, though his thoughts had now aligned into a new and coherent strategy. He had gained three insights into the magic system, refreshing his view of how magic should be used and the potential it carried.
Harmony over Force.
Refining the Body to its Limits.
Precision over Strength.
'If this is what I can learn in just a few hours of reading, imagine what I can achieve in a day, week, months, or even years.'
A wide grin formed on his face. He felt he might eventually step into the next realm if he practiced for a few more days.
The thought excited him, anticipating the task ahead with a sharp resolve. He knew that tonight would be the first test of his newfound understanding, and he was ready for all of it.