Petting a neighborhood cat while he watches the dawn as it crests upon the Yew District,

After a frantic night of danger and threat,

Caused by one newborn vampire of the flesh-eating variant, one that came back to settle a grudge with his group.

The night had passed after much hardship.

Though not without cost.

One gang member had died and four were injured, on his watch.

Something that hadn't occurred in months.

Though the casualties could have been higher, 

 If not for the kid being taken back by its sire once it had noticed, this could have been much worse.

Conquerer lets the cat go, and watches while it begins wandering out of sight into an alleyway as it pleases,

Indifferent to the man's frustration or perhaps acutely aware he needed time, he then stared at his two empty hands, one flesh, the other iron,

He placed his normal hand, in his prosthetic one, and sighed with distress.

Staring out across the streets of the district, as his friend Wise Tailor arrives and is informed of the situation,

While he sits out there, moping while his gang inside the workshop follows his commands, his words, and his direction,

He grips his hands tight, wondering for the umpteenth time if it was a mistake he was chosen to lead,

Though as soon as he has the thought he shunts it to the corner of his mind.

Even as whispers come unrestrained, 'This is the third time, someone died under your watch.'

Someone who did not deserve an end, and this time by a kid no less, irrelevant with the kid's luck in being turned into a vampire,

Even with the majority of the traps seamlessly working, the margin of error was so close it cost someone's life.

...

"Enough." Conquerer declared to himself, as he brushed his medium-length silver hair aside, his cowlick straightening with purpose.

I didn't volunteer for this position, I was chosen by the majority. If I cannot have faith in myself, then I should trust the faith they have in me instead. 

It is silly that I have to remind myself again and again, but it appears it is routine at this point. Hoping for a better Manifest won't change anything either,

My Manifest was not built for war, but that's an irrelevant fact, I'll have to make do and squeeze every drop of value out of it. That's all.

That goes double for my Transmutation magic. It will have its use, but I have to progress further in training so that it can pull its weight.

Conquerer now with renewed vigor moves to sit up, before noticing a limestone rock nearby,

He thinks for a second while staring down at the rock on the ground, and instead of getting up, uses his Manifest, quietly creating the design for a Ritual on the floor, 

Made from paint created from his manifest, as it spreads and occasionally erased to make the Transmutation magic circle,

Once it has been completed, he sets down the rock in the center of it.

Eyeing the ritual to make sure it is done adequately and the stone is in the right location for some practice.

He has the time, and might as well repeat his practice for his brand of transmutation, being first and for most Destruction.

Returning focus to his work, he runs his mana from his mind, down his normal arm, through to the ritual, taking care to repeat the step of filling the circle with mana as he has done before.

Carefully running his mana throughout the circle, noting that though not as precise as he would like, it's much better than last month. As the first cracks begin to sound from the rock...

~   ~   ~

"########!" Conquerer hears his name called, and it appears his niece needs to ask him something.

He gets up and stands, erasing the nearby Ritual with his manifest, to avoid someone activating it out of curiosity.

He then walks away, and the rock he had used falls apart in chunks, reduced to pebbles while he whistles as he wanders back inside.

Conquerer had debated melting it instead but decided he wanted to work on physical destruction for his Transmutation.

He has a lot less experience making a spell that crushes more objects than just glass.

It is no longer about merely gathering powerful subordinates to join the group,

He's tired of being forced to stay in the background when the chips are down and all hell breaks loose.

All of that stress waiting for his strategy to pan out ends today.

"Any other path would be running away, I have to be able to competently fight somehow." Declaring to himself, as he returns to his work as an Art Director.

Thoughts by 'Flag of Conquerer's.'