Luca DR
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Punishment reincarnation 58
🕑 Added 2024-03-25 13:00:11 +0000 UTC58 – Execution
Ishrin walked a good distance away from the caravan, letting the magical and mundane lights fade in the distance until he could barely see them anymore. He had dined and chatted with the merchants, but now they were all preparing for the night, each of them in their own assigned wagons so that they could keep watch over the goods. Melina and Lisette had set up the usual small tent they used every time they had to sleep outside, taken from Ishrin’s inventory. They had enough supplies and earthly comforts for the night, but he doubted they would be enough to let them have their rest.
Steadfast Walk, Great Leaps. The words of power thrummed in the air at his command, and his mana drained significantly as the Tier 5 haste spell took effect. He would have to cast it again in a hour, he thought as he ran across the fields, but only once more and then he would be in Obscuria. The spell carried him at great speed, each step eating the distance between himself and where he wanted to go, automatically navigating around obstacles that appeared faster than even his mind could deal with.
Then he was there. In his mind, Obscuria was a tiny dot residing at the edge of the explored land in the middle of an immense land of clouds—the unknown lands of the world beyond what he had the time to explore. At the other side of the known land, across the forest and the hills at the foot of the mountains, Noctis stood in the protection of its wooden wall, and the guild within it was surely bustling with activity under the stern gaze of the new guild master Ishrin had yet not had the pleasure to meet.
He took a deep breath as the manor at the center of the dark, cramped city came to view. Another spell had hidden his approach to prying eyes, letting him seamlessly blend with the masses of people flooding Obscuria’s markets even in the dead of night—not that night and day were any different under the thick curtain of smoke, where only the light of the oil lamps dictated what lied in shadow and what didn’t.
Inside the walls of the manor, red and glistening as if after a rainstorm, sleek with the oil of the lamps and the precipitation of the greasy smoke of the city, Lucius was about to perform his daily bathing ritual none the wiser, having no idea about what was going to happen very soon. He lived in opulence and decadence, but he slept soundly—most nights—trusting the power of his defenses and his guards, as well as his own power above everything else. Even compared to the guests he had hosted, he knew that he stood in a respectable position of power, one that he knew justified his arrogance and all the vices he had accumulated in his long years in the trade.
Lucius walked slowly towards the brass basin, filled to the brim with steaming water and scented soap. The faucet was leaking copious amounts of scalding water that overflowed from the basin and gathered itself in a depression of the marble floor, where it then disappeared into a hidden hole in the wall. He looked at himself, at his reflection in the great mirror and let the robes slide off of him. The fabric folded itself on the ground messily, to be picked up and cleaned later by one of the human-servants who always followed him around. It was still stained with blood from the morning sacrifice, clotted and dry, and with colorful shimmering dust that painted his sleeves yellow and ochre.
Oh, it had been so satisfying and sweet to watch the young woman beg for mercy even as her core was drained to fuel the summoning magic, the look of shock on her face that replaced the fleeting one of awe at seeing the pixies appear from the rift in the world, only to be slaughtered mercilessly by Lucius and his trusted servants alike. The sweet taste of tears, power and magic, as the magic dust flew all around the room before Lucius himself seized control of it with his magic, putting most of it away in special containers but keeping a sizable portion of it for his own recreational uses.
He was still high on the substance, but he knew that the high was just the least of the advantages that pixie dust granted its users. What he was after was the sight, the foresight and the clarity of mind that came with the high. Only an experienced and strong-willed person such as himself could extricate their mind from the high and enjoy the benefits without losing themselves in the pleasure, but he was an expert.
An expert who had failed to notice that the air in the room was getting thinner. The windows were still open, but no breeze was sweeping the room now, as if something invisible was blocking the flow of air. An unseen force, applied by an unseen infiltrator. But Lucius’s mind was, despite his claims, too addled to really notice. He could not know, of course, but Ishrin had Lisette add a little something to the pixie dust before they left the manor, just in case the housemaster was also a user. If he wasn’t… then it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but it appeared that fate was on Ishrin’s side today.
Lucius, still ignorant of his impending fate, dipped one clawed foot into the hot water and let out a sigh. Then the other, and eventually lowered his whole body inside the brass basin, letting the water splash around as his body sank to the bottom.
As he relaxed, his thoughts went over what happened during the day. He had sent off the latest batch of spices and special produces towards Semiluminal with only a one-day delay, a delay he was more than happy to have caused because it allowed him to set his eyes on a much greater prize than some measly gold pieces obtained by selling his wares. The adventurers. When he put out the notice, he never expected a whole party of Tier 6s to come knocking at his door, and yet… they had come, and he gave them the special welcome to make them feel at ease with him, to appear weak before them and to make them underestimate him. Just as he liked.
They will come back, he knew. Taiival was going to make sure of that, by mentioning that whatever it was that they were looking for, they could find it here, in Obscuria, right in the Red Mansion and right in Lucius’ hands. And he will give it to them, in exchange for their souls and bodies, and let them live the remainder of their short lives intoxicated and inebriated with drugs and spices until their minds were empty and their bodies wasted away, ready for him to rebuild and exploit. Lucius nodded to himself. It was going to take time, but he was not taking any risks: he was only handing out quests so that he could—little by little—earn their trust. Nothing much at all.
Another thought came unbidden, as if riding on an unseen high that Lucius failed to recognize was due to the lack of oxygen making him feel lightheaded. The treasurer of the city had come to grovel at his feet today, Lucius’ mind thought lazily, after several minutes spent soaking in the warm water. He was asking for lenience after Lucius had discovered that he was stealing from him, and he had laughed in his face. The poor man thought he had been summoned because of that tiny misdeed but no, Lucius knew about the prostitutes the treasurer was smuggling out of the city and that, that was the great crime. His prostitutes were little gems, polished to perfection, ready to be purchased for a great price and used however the client desired. The treasurer was stealing them and selling them off for cheap. Heads needed to roll.
Lucius had really enjoyed squeezing the life out of the little, knotty man. Seeing him beg as his eyes grew red and swollen, until finally he stopped moving and almost died. But he didn’t let him die, no. He took him to a tiny dark room full of needles and ampules of various liquids, and began to inject him with his special formula. In a few days he would be ready for harvest, Lucius thought, mind blank and soft.
Lucius made a mental note to administer the evening dose to the treasurer, then looked up at the ceiling and growled, raising one hand out of the water and snapping thrice. Three servants rushed into the room. One carried away his discarded robes, bringing new folded clothes for him to wear. The other two brought food, and beverages and fruit of any kinds. He pointed at the grapes, and the young caramel skinned servant began to pick at them and to feed them to the large muscular lizard. Lucius, naked, munched loudly at the juicy spheres, his eyes wandering around the servants’ enticing and skinny bodies as they worked and moved with almost sensual movements, as if ordered to put on a show rather than just serve him. He imagined what would be like to munch on them much like he did the grapes, and the flame of desire blazed.
He did not notice the strange flavor of the grapes. How they didn’t taste at all like they should. He did not notice the strange sway in the way his servants moved, as if through molasses and not air, struggling to breathe and move. Their faces growing pale before they quickly left the room, leaving him mildly annoyed but for some reason… less vindicative than usual.
Lucius was the most feared man in the city, in a city that itself was feared even by powerful people, and he reveled in the sensation. He thought about the scared looks and the terrified eyes of his manservants who had just served him and let it arouse him. The thought that every time he gazed predatorily at them they writhed in fear and anticipation, the pleasure of power washing over his body and lingering, accumulating in an orgasmic tension waiting to be released. Perhaps he was going to kill more creatures tonight, or maybe he could use one of these servants to relieve his needs.
Lucius never got out of his bath. Suddenly a seizure overtook him. His body spasmed, every single muscle going out of control and haywire. Had he been able to recognize what was happening to him, he would have panicked. No Tier 6 lord could ever succumb to a simple mortal ailment. But he was not. And what was happening to him was no mortal ailment.
His mind was gone, trapped in a bubble of soft fabric. An illusion, dissociating him from reality. His nerves were being fried as his brain lost lucidity and the illusion slowly faded, his receding mental faculties unable to keep it up, but there was no mind nor person there anymore to keep contained. Neurons died, one after the other, exposed a dangerous mix of lack of oxygen and a strange, half-magical and half-mundane force tugging at them until they shriveled and died, and the brain shut itself down.
It was not all. At the same time the body was also shutting down. The seizure ceased as the nerves and muscles turned to mush inside the thick skin of the lizard-man, now barely a leathery container that no longer retained its shape. The magical core deep in his navel and the many meridians of his body were on fire, and had Lucius been conscious he would have been consumed by unimaginable pain as his core was forcefully shattered from the outside, and the foul magic inside was being let loose against its own host body.
All this, without anybody even entering the room. Lucius was being killed, and was somehow still alive in the strictest of biological meanings and no more, but his killer had not even had to show himself, nor enter the room to do his job.
It was only in the end, before the last of the vital signs died, that Ishrin entered the room. With a snap of his finger, cool and fresh air rushed inside from the open windows, replacing the oxygen-starved air of the room. Ishrin plunged a hand into the dying Lucius’ chest, penetrating the skin and scales with ease. A word of power, and the ritual he had been setting up before he even started slowly killing the man activated.
