Chapter 132: Let Us See Who Wins

Makun sat where he had woken up earlier, on the leather couch right in front of the fireplace.

He coldly looked at Doc, his expression furious.

He had been a drum to that tiny man, receiving punches from him, again and again, it was endless and had lasted several minutes.

He had been on the verge of cracking, on the edge of retorting, but the facts were there.

The Doc mastered his job, Makun felt his condition improve, the wounds disappear, his tendons reform, his route core and spiritual veins stabilising.

This man in minutes, had done what Sarah could not in hours.

He was a level above.

Makun felt fully recovered, better than ever, ready for action.

“Thanks Doc.” Sarah said in his stead.

She had struggled with Makun’s internal injuries, damage to the route core and spiritual veins were notoriously difficult to heal.

unlike physical wounds which responded to conventional Ashe manipulation, injuries to one’s mystic foundation required precise recalibration of energy pathways, a single misstep could cause permanent damage or even sever a practitioner’s connection to the Deep entirely.

She had mostly taken care of everything, but even so, fear had lingered in her chest, MIO agents never had time to rest and properly heal, they were always active, always deployed, wounds accumulated faster than they could be mended and she had seen too many colleagues push through injuries only to collapse months later, their foundations crumbling from neglect.

She was responsible for their wellbeing, and from a glance, Makun could tell she wanted to grow stronger as well.

“Now! Now! We are all here.” Orel interrupted. “Let us go over this mission, the details leave nothing out.”

His words were directed at Makun, the report had stated that he had been the one to take care of it.

“First, Team leader, explain.” Orel asked in an authoritative tone he probably should not have.

Danielle was still furious from earlier, but staying away from Makun had calmed her down, and as a team leader she had to make sure to not let emotions get in her way.

“The mission was not Grade E, I cannot determine a grade, you should after hearing the whole thing.” She started. “As for what happened, after we reached Old Town Spring…”

They all listened to what they had already lived, and experienced, Orel nodded, and nodded his expression rarely changing as if he could predict what she would say next as soon as she began.

But when Makun looked at him, he could tell Orel held himself, with a lot of difficulty from throwing barbs at Danielle.

“That was how we came here to see nine bodies, the victims, the families and Makun here at the chalet.”

Orel nodded a final time, rearranging every piece of information in his brain.

He knew Danielle had left out Makun’s side for him to explicitly tell him, as he was the only one who could say exactly what he experienced.

“Makun, tell me everything that happened. Leave nothing behind.”

Makun was taken aback, Orel’s mood had shifted, he was not that provocateur anymore, he was serious. Similar to how he had been calm ever since they entered the car for Houston.

What is going on?

He thought, but could only do what he had been asked.

“When we reached House 22, the Joneses’ house…” Makun started, explaining the doubts he had, how he brought up the observations to Danielle and had been dismissed.

When he reached this part, Orel’s eyes shifted to Danielle, a cold, cutting glare that carried more weight than any words could, disappointment and accusation compressed into a single look.

As a scholar, any bit of information was precious to him. Lacking one reduced the probability of success and this time it had been the room.

Makun carried on, with the pursuit, the forest, the chalet, the guards, the frequency changes, the doors, the apostle, the ritual, the sacrifice and so on.

He noticed that, the more he spoke, the more Orel’s face darkened as if he had been triggered by what he heard.

When Makun finished, he could feel a suppressing aura in the room, one that came out of Orel.

One that no normal scholar should have.

“Malakor.” Orel spoke, his eyes sharp. “Let us see who wins.”

…

In a spacious room, one that resembled a royal palace, high vaulted ceilings stretched into shadow, crystal chandeliers hung dormant with only a few candles flickering at their base, velvet curtains draped the towering windows blocking all natural light, and gilded pillars lined the walls catching the dim glow like bones of gold.

But where a throne should have stood, there was instead a long golden table, polished to a mirror sheen, stretching across the canter of the chamber.

The room was dimly lit, shadows pooling in every corner.

The charismatic man, the grey priest who had commanded a hall full of believers with nothing but his voice, the apostle who had convinced parents to drug their own children, the figurehead who had made dozens venerate him as if he were a god walking among mortals, was now kneeling.

All his charisma had disappeared, his power snuffed out.

In front of him, on a chair sat at the opposite end of the golden table was a man, chubby but well built, he had a decent look on his face, full of white hair and a white beard, perfectly matching his fair skin, the skin of someone who had not left his room in months. On his left hand fingers, were multiple rings of different colors, red, green, magenta, azure.

Despite his decent look, he resembled any normal chubby person, however if one could feel closer, his charisma was suffocating, a sort of pull that made you want to give him everything without even understanding why, an aura that could charm even the most stingy person into sharing all their wealth without awaiting nothing in return,.

Beside him on the table, resting against a silver stand, was a small mirror, no larger than a hand, its surface black, darker than darkness itself, a void that swallowed light and reflected nothing, not even the dim candlelight dared touch it. And in front of the mirror was an inconspicuous chessboard.

“What happened?” He asked the grey priest, who without delay spilled everything.

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