Chapter 15
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[Author’s Note: Woot! Chapter 15, and almost done with the first volume! Once this volume is finished, I’ll be doing a bit of rewrite. nothing major, but reformatting some chapters, maybe combining some shorter ones at the start, making everything neat and presentable. I’ll post the Link once it’s up, If you’ve been following and reading this, make sure to check it out and spread the word!

Again, this is the last of my Backlog, so it might be awhile before the next update. But the Gears are already turning! Thanks for Reading and be sure to leave feedback!]

EDIT: Thanks to Chiisutofupuru from RoyalRoadL for helping with Edits and suggestions for this one!

_________________________________
 
Chapter 15: The Monster and the Ghost
 
 
Mark’s heart clenched in his chest, and a chill spread through his body, banishing the heat from the earlier run. He was, had been, a soldier; he understood what an Embassy represented. Swaying on his feet, his vision blurring, Mark felt his legs had turn to jelly. As Mark collapsed, Jonathan rushed over and caught him, leaning him up againt the nearby building. The older man looked Mark over once and gripped his wrist, holding two fingers to it for a moment before giving a sigh,
 
“You overused your Sigil. I’m surprised you can still move.”
Mark struggled to nod his head in understanding. That would explain the glaring red “Warning” in the small window that’d popped up in his sight.

┌~~~~~~~~~~<Status>~~~~~~~~~~~
Name: Mark Floyd
Active Sigil: Survivor
Sigil Level: 4
HP: 412/550 (Status: stress fracture: right tibia.)
MP: 8/150 [!!WARNING!!]
--------------------------------------------------------------

Survivor’s Will put a greater strain on him than he’d first thought, and now that it had deactivated, he was feeling the rebound from pushing himself too far. Even with the increase in level since the last time he’d checked, just this short run had almost wrung him dry.

He leaned up against the wall for a moment, taking in deep, ragged breaths as his body repaired itself. One of the guards nearby handed him a canteen and a green candy the size of a marble. Mark looked at the small object, then tossed it into his mouth, followed by a long swig from the canteen. As the water hit the candy, it dissolved, sending a cool minty chill flowing down his throat.

The chill spread through his body, the dull aches and creaking bones fading with each passing second. The MP on the window ticked up over the next few seconds, 18/150, 38/150, 88/150, before stopping at 108/150. It seemed the small candy had been a rapid energy recovering medicine. While its effect on a normal guard or soldier whose Sigil level averaged 10, would have been minor, Mark’s racing heart slowed and strength returned to his legs.

His MP reached a stable level, the flashing warning vanished and Healing Factor took effect. His HP raised a point every few seconds. At the current speed, He would be in perfect health in only 12 minutes. Mark could understand the importance, the power, of “Sigils” in this world.

He took a moment to catch his breath, then used the wall to support himself as he stood, legs still shaking. Jonathan turned to one soldier next to him and whispered something too quiet for Mark to hear. The man nodded and dashed down the back alleyway, heading toward the direction of the Fort. After a few moments, a group marched towards them, Alex leading several armed guards.

Alex raised his hand, and the group halted behind him. He stared at Jonathan and Mark, eyes wide as they moved back and forth. The shock plain on his face, he asked to Mark in a low voice,

“Mark, are you all right? Selah said you-”

“I’m fine, just a little tired and sore. We have bigger problems at the moment.”

Mark recounted the events of the last hour. By the time he’d finished, Alex had gone from shock to panic to anger. Even in the dim moonlight, the young man trembled, his hands clenched and a dark fire burned in his eyes. His voice shook as he stared at the dimly lit embassy.

“We should have killed them when we had the chance. We shouldn’t have lowered our guard before we knew what they were up too.”

“It’s too late, we‘re running out of time. Where are the others?”

“Ms. Selah and Lady Caroline rushed to the workshop for something, Sir Matthew and the Duchess are back at the Fort sending out orders to the rest of the city. Tsutsuji….”

Alex’s voice faded as his gaze rose to the sky. Mark couldn’t see anything in the dark night, but it was hard to miss the seething mass of fury that radiated through the link. Like a fire, it originated from some distant spot in the sky. The rough man frowned, but nodded his head. With the little guide’s eyes on them, at least they didn’t have to fear the other party escaping. Jonathan spoke up after a minute, addressing them both,

"Whatever the case, it's best we regroup and plan our next step. The girl should be safe for now; they want something from her. Otherwise, why go through the trouble of taking her?"

Mark balled his hands, a deep grumble sounding from his chest. He wanted to rush right in; climb over the walls and take her back this instant. But he understood that a move like that would only make things worse. His eyes flashed, and he slammed his fist into the nearby brick wall, the stone cracked loud in the silent night. The two standing next to him jumped in surprise, but when they looked, Mark's eyes were clearer and calmer.

Mark stood up straight and walked with striding steps towards the fortress, not even bothering to look back at them or the embassy. The two men watched Mark walk off before nodding to each other and motioning for their respective squads. The groups gathered and made their way back to the fortress.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Merry's brain throbbed and pounded against her skull. Her ears ringing, she tried to raise her arm to her head but couldn't move. Strange voices echoed in the room…………………….

"Half? What do you mean, half?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Human. You heard what I said, the inscription is only half complete."

The shortest figure held up a small wooden rod in one hand, the other gripping an old weathered piece of parchment.

"Then what are we supposed to do? It's useless without the other half."

"That is what the girl is for. They already know we‘re here, time is limited. Just keep in mind, she's not one of your 'dolls'. If she dies before we learn anything useful…."

"Do you take me for a fool? I know that. For now, throw her with the rest, I have to make preparations."

The small figure looked up at the tall figure for a moment, then walked over and untied the ropes that bound her. Merry's eyes flashed with hope, only for her heart to sink as she found she couldn't make her body move. The small figure picked up her limp form and walked towards the back of the room. Hidden in the shadows, was a large holding cell, the smell of blood and waste mixing with the damp and stale air of an underground room.

The small figure opened the cell door and threw the girl in without another word, then shut the door behind him and walked away. As he disappeared, chains clanked against iron deeper in the cell. The little girl's heart beat faster, as something stirred in the back of the cell, its body covered in a multitude of chains and shackles.

As the thing turned her way, it paused, as if examining her. Merry’s breath seized up, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the shadowed figure. In the next moment, the figure lunged towards her, the rattling of the chains echoed through the room. The figure stopped only a few feet from Merry’s position, the little girl still unable to move, or even scream. The chains that restricted it pulled tight against the far wall, and the shadows stirred.

Two pale white hands reached out to her, fingers stretched much longer than they should, small ring like shackles attached to each in several places. As the figure strained against the confines, it moaned in pain and backed away again. As time went on, weeping filled the cell.

------------------------------------------------------------

Selah paced back and forth, the sound of grinding teeth the only thing accompanying the ticking of the grandfather clock in the room. Six figures sat around a small table nearby, the tension building with each passing minute. A soldier walked through the large double doors after a moment, carrying a thick binder which he placed in front of one man. Grace gave the man a nod, then turned to Jonathan, speaking in a low voice,

“Start from the beginning. What have our agents been able to find?”

“Not much. We’ve been watching the Darksand embassy for close to a year now, ever since the reports of unusual activite around the area. But with no real evidence, we had no way of launching a proper investigation. All we know is that someone on the inside has been making deals with some of the local syndicates. It was only before the attacks on the trade route started that the dealings stopped.”

“You didn’t find that suspicious?”

“We did, but once the attacks started, we no longer had the resources to continue the investigation. It wasn’t until Mr. Floyd and Sir Lūceō gave their story I connected the dots.”

“So what is the connection between this and that? Are you saying the embassy was supplying the Goblins? Why? Do we have enough to even move on?”

“……”

Grace slammed her fist into the table, leaving a small indent, her voice flaring up as she asked, half to herself,

“What is going on in this City? Why is it we are just hearing of this? Why did nobody see these attacks coming? Has my Watch so deteriorated to where it can’t even keep a few Goblins out?!”

Jonathan paled, but otherwise kept his calm, replying in a steady voice,

“That’s the strange thing about it. Everything has disappeared; the syndicates they were working for have vanished, the goods never left the embassy, even the merchants who supplied the goods seem like they never even existed. Someone has scrubbed their trail, not leaving a single eyelash behind. There is something going on here, something bigger than just disrupting trade.”

Selah stopped her frantic pacing and yelled out, eyes burning,

“What then? We wait?”

Grace sighed and her gaze dropped as she leaned back into the chair, rubbing her forehead. She spoke out in a dull, tired voice,

“There is nothing else we can do. I’ve already sent a message to the Capital requesting authorization to move, but…”

“But nothing! Every moment we waste here, Merry is-”

“You don’t think I realize that!”

Grace shot up from her seat, glaring at her younger sister, voice trembling.

“This goes beyond what we can see! You think I don’t want to drop everything and rush in this instant? There are powers at play here that we don’t know and don’t understand. One wrong move and it would mean more than the safety of a little girl!”

Selah returned her sister’s burning glare, the latter calming her heavy breathing before taking on a calm and cold tone,

“Before I am your sister, I am the Duchess of Whitewood. For now, it ties my hands.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment, when the sound of a chair being pushed back, broke their gaze. Mark stood from the table with a swift motion, his face blank and unreadable. He turned and walked out of the room, not bothering to say a word. Alex watched him for a moment, a struggle playing on his face, before he too stood and followed him. The room watched in silence, though unseen by the rest, a small smirk spread on Grace’s lips.

----------------------------------------------------------

Mark stood in his room, moving about in a rush as he gathered up his supplies and equipment. A voice called out to him from the doorway, low and serious,

“Mark, what are you doing?”

Mark didn’t bother to turn around as he continued to prepare, though the answer he gave was flat and resolved,

“What I need to.”

“Grace is right Mark, we can’t act hastily in this matter. One wrong move and it could mean far more trouble. It would even mean War!”

Alex raised his voice as he stepped through the doorway, his hands shaking in frustration. He knew how the others felt; even he wanted to rush over, kick the gate down and drag the bastards out. But without evidence to support them…

“You’re forgetting. I’m not involved with this.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’ve said it several times already. I’m a passerby, a stranger on the road. I have no connection to you all.”

Alex stood there with his mouth agape, eyes wide. He was right. Mark was only a stranger, a passerby who got dragged into the mess. He was even a Wanderer, he had no connection to any power or people in this world. Even if the other party wanted to bring up some grievance, there would be no one for it stick to but Mark himself.

Alex stayed silent, unable to retort, before turning and walking out the door, his brow creased and a deep frown on his face. Mark paused for a moment then returned to what he was doing. About ten minutes later, Mark left his room and headed down the hallway. After a few steps, the door opposite his room opened and a young man in full gear stepped out. Mark raised an eyebrow and asked in a sarcastic voice,

“What happened to being careful?”

“You’ve forgotten…”

Alex replied, smirking at the man as he mimicked his words,

“I’m a Hero of Grandeur. I have the authority to go where I need.”

Well, to be honest, it was more complicated than that, but at this point Alex didn’t care. He was tired of inaction. If he couldn’t do what he needed to, how could he call himself a Hero? He might come to regret his choice later, but that was a burden for him to bear alone. Mark stared at the young man for a long moment before returning the smirk and shrugging his shoulders. Eyes still on Alex, Mark called out in a loud voice,

“And what about you?”

There was a silent pause, and the figure of a young woman stepped out from around the corner, shoulder length blood red hair tied back and wearing light leather armor. She looked at the two in silence, before speaking in a low flat voice,

“I’m not a Whitewood, not officially. What I do or don‘t do, is my matter.”

Mark looked over his shoulder and gave the woman a thoughtful gaze, eyes focused and mouth dipping in a slight frown. He gave a sigh after a moment, and turned around, walking down the hallway and past the woman without another word. Alex followed behind, and as his eyes met Selah’s, they gave each other a nod and followed behind Mark.

As they made their way to the Fort exit, Alex asked Mark,

“So, what’s the plan?”

“If you want to find a Rat, the first place to look is the Rat’s nest.”

With those words, Mark turned and headed towards the residential district.

------------------------------------------------

“L-Look man! I r-really don’t know, ok! let me go, please.”

Another heavy fist landed in the ragged man’s gut. Causing him to gag and collapse to the ground. Mark bent down and lifted the man by the collar, staring him in the eye as he spoke in a low, threatening voice,

“They all just vanished overnight? You expect me to believe that?”

“I-I’m telling the truth, the higher-ups disappeared, didn’t tell us anything. Some others thought they ran, but w-we don’t know for sure.”

“Then who were you working for?”

“I don’t know, I swear! We were just in charge of moving the good, no questions asked. Please, don’t kill me!”

Mark raised his fist again, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Alex look down and said in a calm voice,

“Enough Mark. He knows nothing else.”

Mark frowned, but lowered his fist and dropped the shaking man. The man crawled away a few feet before standing and running out of the alleyway as fast as he could. Alex watched the man leave, then asked in a low voice,

“Do you have to be so rough? They may be criminals, but most of these people are just down on their luck.”

“Yes. I do. Punks like them only understand violence. If you don’t use enough force, they are just as likely to give you false info out of spite. Let’s go, we still have time before sunset.”

The two walked out of the alleyway and met with a hooded figure standing watch to one side. The figure called out in a frustrated voice,

“This is a waste of time. That was the fifth one so far, and not one of them knew a thing we didn’t already know. So what now?”

Mark stared at the distant setting sun in silence. They were running out of time, and they‘d made little progress. As the three were lost in thought, a voice rang out, only a few feet away from Mark,

“I might be of help in that regards…”

Mark twisted around, sending a spinning sidekick towards that direction. As the kick swept through empty air, Mark saw a faint shadow step away, though the image faded from his mind as soon as it popped up. Again, the voice called out, not too far away,

“Hey now buddy, no need to for aggression. I’ve been watching you for a while, I think we can help each other out.”

Mark took a step back and once more struck out behind him, this time spinning around with a back fist aiming at the figure’s head. Again, the figure seemed to blur in his mind, and the strike passed through empty air. In the next moment, Mark felt the cold sting of metal against his throat, and the voice spoke, this time a tinge of annoyance lacing the cold voice,

“Enough. If I didn’t need you, you lot would already be dead. How about we all calm down and have a little chat?”

Mark looked over his shoulders, a cold glint in his eyes, but otherwise calm, as he gave a nod. The figure smiled and withdrew his dagger, stepping away a few feet, close enough to chat, but not within striking distance. Mark got a good look at the stranger; a young man, only 18 or 19 years old, his short hair was pitch black, neatly trimmed and slicked back with some form of oil, giving an air of refinement.

If it wasn’t for the plain dark clothes, he wore and the cold gleam in his black eyes, you might mistake him for one of the young gentlemen walking the streets of the central island. His face and eyes had the distinct shape one might find in those of Asian descent back in his own world; though the sharp jawline and square body shape common to this area suggested that whatever blood these features represented in this world, was diluted. As the young man twirled his dagger and re-sheathed it with practiced hands, Mark focused his mind on the young man and activated Examine,

┌~~~~~~~~~~<Status>~~~~~~~~~~~
Name: Archer <~Ghost~> <~5th Shadow-rat Syndicate Head~>
Race: Human
Age: 19

Active Sigil: Shadow-Walker
Sigil Level: 11
HP: 265
MP: 955

STR: 50 (15 + 5 + 5 + 25)
END: 20 (10 + 5 + 5)
WILL: 140 (20 + 120)
DEX: 80 (20 + 60)

ACTIVE SKILLS: [Vanish] -??? -??? -??? -???
PASSIVE SKILLS: [Hide Presence] -??? -??? -??? -??? -??? -??? -???
UNIQUE SKILLS: -???
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Another headache had appeared. As Mark looked at the screen, a thought popped in his head, and he focused on a certain word. To his surprise, the status screen closed, and another replaced it.

---------------------------------
Shadow-walker
Type
: Mind, Inheritance
Description: The Shadow-Walker Sigil causes its host brain to emit strong brainwave pattern that interferes with another’s ability to perceive or detect their presence. Rather than creating an illusion or controlling the target, a Shadow-Walker can “blend into the background”. They give off the natural impression they are or always have been where they are supposed to be. Someone influenced by a Shadow-Walker might confuse or misidentify the host for someone else, fail to notice their actions, or ignore them all together, as if they were a piece of the environment. These characteristic have led many Shadow -Walkers to take up lucrative careers as thieves, spies and assassins. But they are also highly valued in many Armies and Adventurer groups as Scouts.
---------------------------------

Mark squinted his eyes, deep in thought as he stared at the screen. Selah spoke up, pulling down the hood and giving the young man a dark glare as she spoke in a low threatening tone,

“Ghost. What are you doing here? I’d thought all the Syndicate higher ups had vanished?”

“Aye, that they did little Princess. But they didn’t just vanish. They were ‘removed’.”

“Removed?”

“Yes, it seems someone isn’t taking any chances with this one. As soon as our last deal was done, people began vanishing. I’m all that’s left.”

“And why is that? How did you get away?”

At Selah’s question, the young man shrugged his shoulders, a cheeky grin spreading on his face as he lifted his nose high and spoke,

“Come on now, little Princess. How long has your sister been trying to get her hands around me? What chance does someone else have?”

Mark cut off their banter before it could go on, turning to Archer and speaking in a low warning voice,

“Fine, fair enough. What did you want to speak about?”

The young man lowered his arms and looked at Mark with eyes filled with a cold light, his voice serious and deadly.

“I want the same thing you want. Answers. They took something from me, something very important. I want it back.”

“What does that have to do with us? Why bother approaching us?”

“Because I need your help to do so. It’s in a place I‘m not able not get at.”

“Let me guess. The Embassy.”

“Correct, my good Chum!”

“With your ability, why not just go get it yourself? You could just walk in and out.”

Archer’s eyes went wide in surprise at first, but a smirk soon spread on his face and he said with a chuckle,

“Impressive, you could see through me with just a few glances. It’s not that simple. A Shadow-Walker’s abilities aren’t absolute, there are ways to counter it. Otherwise, every King in the world would be a paranoid bundle of nerves.”

The young man gave a laugh at his own joke before speaking again.

“Getting in. That’s the easy part. But getting out? That’s where you lot come in. So, what do you say?”

As he spoke, Archer gave a bright smile worthy of any great con-man.

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