The Skill Thief's Canvas - Chapter 13

At first, Solara suggested they rest for a short while before departing from the tower, but Adam steadfastly rejected her idea. “Much as I would love to rest,” he said, “we don’t have time.”

“Why not?”

He thought of how long it would take to explain, then shook his head. “Just go along with it for now – I’m honestly low on energy, and we have to get out of here soon.”

Solara briefly held her gaze. When she finally nodded, it was with a stern expression that let Adam know blind agreement wasn’t a habit of hers.

After that, the two of them went through their preparations as swiftly as they could. Solara changed into a dress that wasn’t half torn and covered in blood, and Adam arranged a gift for Belmordo. Considering how fast things were progressing, he wouldn’t have much opportunity to do this later – so he used his painting ability and drew the ugliest, most inaccurate portrait he could think of. Well, it’s supposed to look bad, he told himself, although the artist in him still disliked the result.

There was no time to dwell on that, however. The instant he finished with his short preparations, Solara showed up beside him and began badgering him about his appearance. And to be fair, Adam understood why. While she looked positively beautiful after those scant few minutes, wearing a modest yet impeccably styled dress, he had made a point to reject her offer of clean, undamaged clothes.

“Are you sure you want to go out looking like that?” Solara asked incredulously, examining him from head to toe. Adam’s Ink had closed all his external wounds, but that was all. Both his internal wounds and the considerable damage to his clothing remained.

Though not in tatters, his fine noble garments were now stained with blood and prominently featured numerous rips and tears. If before Adam had looked like a nobleman ready to meet the Emperor himself, now he mostly looked like he’d just got done being mugged. As if his traveling carriage was raided by bandits, and he barely made it out alive – after being beaten within an inch of his life, no less.

Which, frankly, wasn’t too far off from what actually happened.

"Yeah, it’s the image I want to give off,” Adam barked out, gritting his teeth to hide his pain. They’d managed to do some emergency healing on his injuries, but he was barely in the shape to walk, let alone fight. “It’s not just Belmordo that’s going to be waiting outside. His supporters, his soldiers...they’ll be there too. I want them to look and see a man who almost died, but is still acting like everything went according to plan. If they see an unhurt, fancy-looking lord, they can justify it in their heads, say I just got lucky. But if they see a half-dead man who’s still grinning like an arrogant bastard...that ought to make them second guess themselves, if only a little. Let them think I have ice in my veins.”

“Ink is close enough to ice,” Solara replied absently. “At least let me fix your hair. If you’re playing the part of a battered hero, then impeccably-brushed hair combined with a battle-worn look will make more of an impact.”

“That sounds good to me.” No sooner had he finished saying that, Solara was beside him fixing up his appearance. It felt odd to have someone touch his hair like that outside of a barbershop, but not unpleasant.

–


Solara was soon proven right. When the duo stepped outside the tower, they immediately heard the crowd’s chatter go as silent as death. Even the soldiers – a band of hard-bitten types – were left staring wide-eyed at Adam and Solara as if they were a pair of ghosts.

Belmordo, for his part, went paler than the cursed Ghost itself, his mouth agape. It didn’t last long; the man had enough grit about him to snap himself back together. “My lady,” he said, rushing up to the stone steps and kneeling. Without looking up, he asked in a hushed tone, “You’re, you’re outside the tower. Does this mean the curse...”

“Gone.” Solara declared, in a booming voice that felt like a rejection of Belmordo’s whispers. “No ghost shall haunt me or my noble house.”

“That is fantastic,” Belmordo quickly said. He sounded genuinely honest. Adam probably would’ve believed him if the man hadn’t spent so long trying to argue in favor of letting Solara die. “Most fantastic – I – can we speak in a more private place at a later time?”

Solara nodded toward the carriage. “That seems private enough, and I have waited for too long already. Let us speak.”

“Surely my lady needs rest–”

“Your lady has spoken, Belmordo. Surely you don’t dare to pretend that your thoughts and her voice are the same??” Solara’s reply was as loud as it was sharp. Then, she added, just as loudly, but dryer, “Then again, it wouldn’t surprise me. I hear you have much pretending in mind for the near future.”

Adam had to make an effort not to whistle softly at the implicit accusation. Belmordo’s aspirations for taking the city were open secrets, but secrets nonetheless – not the kind of thing you spoke aloud where anyone could hear you. It was enough to make the lord hurriedly nod along and lead them inside the carriage, where he promptly closed the door shut.

Despite his bravado, Adam was glad to sit down again. He figured he’d done a decent job at looking like a horrifying blood lord, but the truth was that even standing was difficult right now. Being able to relieve some of the strain from his body felt nice.

Although it was still necessary to put on airs around Belmordo. The man seemed a little scared, but he was the kind who recovered quickly.

Best not to give him the chance..

“Belmordo, my friend. Thank you for receiving us on such short notice.” Adam forced himself to arrogantly plant his crossed legs on the table between them. My ribs—my fucking ribs— “I suppose seeing us alive puts you in a difficult position, doesn’t it?”

“I am positively thrilled that Lady Solara has returned to us alive and well,” Belmordo began, “not to mention my delight that Lord Adam managed to do so without losing his own life. Such a turn of events is a providence from our–”

“Are you an idiot?” Solara raised both her chin and her voice as she fired the question. “There is a time to play dumb, and that time is long past. You wanted me dead, Lord Adam’s testimony has made this clear enough for my father to have you arrested. Let us speak plainly – will you surrender peacefully, or fight a hopeless war?”

At that, Belmordo’s face turned bitter. He chewed his lip and let out a faint sound like a wounded animal – but when he spoke again, after a mild pause, it was with a determined tone and a grin on his face. “Lady Amara—Lord Adam—if you wish to speak plainly, then let’s. Hopeless is the word to describe a hypothetical war, but not for me.”

“You think the city of Gama would side with you over Father?” Solara asked mockingly.

“No. I think they would side with me over an elf,” Belmordo stated. “They’d hesitate to start a war without proper cause, true. But if their backs are to the wall, and they only have one chance at ridding themselves of elven influence...well, I am certain of where their loyalties will lie.”

“One chance?” Solara raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

Adam winced in pain, but tried to play it off like he just had a sudden realization. “Vasco is outside the Walls right now,” he explained. “If he tries to march back and take control of the city, then Belmordo can have his men clash with him outside, where he wouldn’t be able to use his Lord Talent at all.”

Belmordo’s face lit up in amusement. “Precisely! Oh, Lord Adam, why can’t you use that beautiful logic of yours to make the correct decision here?”

I’m way too tired for this nonsense, Adam thought, but didn’t say. “I am. But by all means; tell me what your idea of a correct decision would be.”

“The same choices that I have advised you to make for some time now. Return to Penumbria, execute Lady Solara, and execute my brother. Do so, and we shall establish the mutual relationship between our states that was discussed earlier.”

Solara, to her credit, was relatively calm at this. “You stupid bald fuck,” she spat out. Relatively. “Don’t you think you should save the conspiring for when your assassination target isn’t around?”

“My, I thought my lady had professed the time for playing dumb was long past,” Belmordo replied, in an innocuous tone. “I am laying out my cards as plainly as possible. Just as you’ve said, the moment my brother returns, I will be called to the executioner’s block. Let us not mince words – he won’t think a dungeon is good enough for me.”

“If you repent–”

“But I will not.” Belmordo’s voice grew cold. “That is the one point where I will allow the flame of emotion to color my judgement. I will not repent. I do not regret my actions – gods, to allow an elf to rule me? No. Death is a kinder fate, and murder even gentler.”

Solara’s hand curled into a fist. “Do ancient legends scare you so much?” she shouted. Hope this carriage is soundproof enough, Adam mused. “Would you go so far at the mere stories of what my ancestors did? Just because we rode the dragons–”

Belmordo leaned forward. “Fuck the dragons.” His voice was a whisper again, but this time it didn’t feel like secrecy was the reason for it. There was a calm, icy hatred there now. “Even if your kind never rode the dragons, even if the reason the Rot is eating away every city in this Empire wasn’t you treefuckers – I would still want you dead.”

“Why then?”

“Greenisle.”

Solara’s hand fell to her dress pocket. Adam saw a flicker of steel in there. “You name the massacre of my people as your reason?” Her voice dripped with nearly as much disgust as it did fury. “And for that reason, you would kill your own brother? Do you listen to yourself?”

“You think you are the only one who lost something that day? My father died there! Your people – you turned my brother into a kinslayer!” Belmordo slammed his fist against the side of the carriage. “Do you wonder why I balk not at fratricide? Because my brother is already dead. Vasco died the moment he sank his battleax into our father’s neck. This is mercy.”

Can’t let this go on. “That’s very interesting, but let’s get down to business.” Adam pretended to stretch his arms to hide a wince of pain. Much as he would rather prolong the conversation and learn more about the situation, he knew his body was reaching its limit once again, and he wouldn’t have the advantage in a prolonged negotiation while also looking like he had a foot in the grave. “Why the hell would I side with you over Vasco?”

“Well,” Belmordo started, a measure of calmness returning to him. “Because you don’t have a choice, Lord Adam. Not truly.”

“That so? Because it really, really seems like I do.”

“Then your memory fails you. The Hangman is coming.”

Adam glanced at Solara and both shared a questioning look. “Strange. She doesn’t look cursed to me anymore, and I don’t think the Hangman would make that mistake.”

“No. But recall that word has not yet reached the Empire of what transpired between you and Lord Aspreay. Then, recall further that Hangmen are encouraged to take action independently in order to protect the Empire. If I were to inform them of this treasonous, heretic madman who killed Lord Aspreay...well, they would have to interfere, would they not?”

“You’re threatening me with the Hangman,” Adam said, slowly. He’d suspected things might come to this, ever since they came across that pathway through the mountain. “If I don’t side with you...then I suppose I should expect a Hangman to come knocking in Penumbria soon.”

“Very soon,” Belmordo replied, with a smirk. “He should arrive within a fortnight, remember? Mayhap a few hours now.”

“I remember,” Adam grumbled.

It was more than an idle threat. Imperial Hangmen were capable of tearing holes through a goddamn mountain; holes so large that they became tunnels. If one were to attack Penumbria, they wouldn’t stand a chance, with or without Adam’s Lord powers.

The Ghost mentioned that a Talent can be overcome by a higher ranked Talent. Even if very few people are likely to be immune to a Baron level Talent...an Imperial Hangman probably would be one of them.

And if someone like that came to Penumbria? A hand of the Emperor, wielding enough destructive power to reduce their home to dust? Every Aspreay loyalist would turn on Adam at once. While they couldn’t oppose him directly, they could definitely make his efforts to prepare the city for a fight that much more difficult.

Maybe if I spend all of Penumbria’s Orbs to improve my Lord Talent...I might be able to hold off the Hangman. That wasn’t a guarantee, though. At ϕ3,320,384 Orbs, even if he were to draw on the city funds, Adam could at most improve his Talent to the rank of Viscount. Who’s to say that someone who could single-handedly tunnel holes through mountains wasn’t above that?

Not to mention the collateral damage that was sure to follow. Even if he could hold off the Hangman’s assault – and wouldn’t it just call for reinforcements if he did? – he would have no way of keeping the people of Penumbria alive. They needed Orbs to live. Using Penumbria’s Orbs to upgrade his own Talent was equivalent to condemning everyone to death by starvation.

Maybe I can paint the Hangman’s soul...Even in his head, the thought sounded foolish. Solara’s Ghost had nearly killed him in single combat; he wouldn't last more than a second against the Hangman. Besides, what was he going to do? Ask for its life story? Not everyone was so forthcoming.

No matter how he considered it, the Hangman wasn’t an enemy he could beat at this juncture. Which led to his next question, this one directed towards Solara. “Do you think he’s telling the truth? Can he really convince a Hangman to go after Penumbria?”

“I...yes,” she hesitantly said. “Your takeover of the city is a crime. It would not require much convincing for a Hangman to march down your doors. They rarely if ever act without noble request, but if Belmordo puts a request in the name of the city of Gama...”

It was an honest answer, and one that didn’t benefit her whatsoever. Adam appreciated it all the more for that. “My next question is...Belmordo, why the hell are you talking to us? Why not attack us right here?”

“Do you think I am foolish enough to attack you?” Belmordo cried out. “He who defeated the Curse? I know not what devilry you can perform with your Talent. How many good men would I lose?”

He composed himself. “And besides...I am a man of logic, and leaving you alive is just good business.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“If I attempt to kill Lady Solara, you and your men – not many, but a good honor guard – will defend her. Most of us will die, and perhaps you might still escape. But I trust you are a logical man, Lord Adam. Oh, right now you will die to defend her, honorable man that you are. After a night of sleep, however...when your dreams are visited by the hundreds, thousands of lives you might snuff out with your oh-so-noble desire to protect one family...”

“You think I’m going to kill her and Vasco,” Adam said, in a quiet voice.

“Of course. And doing so would prevent me from having to lose armed, expensive men to kill Vasco outside the Wall. It would be much, much more beneficial for me to retain positive relations with Penumbria and its lord than to start violence right now. Ah, that would just not be good business, not at all.”

Solara stirred in her seat. “And what if we kill you here?” Her voice was cold, and her hand gripped at something inside her pocket. “If you are silenced, the Hangman will more likely than not avoid targeting Penumbria. They wouldn’t do anything without an official request straight from your lips.”

“You are correct.” Belmordo leaned forward. “Why don’t you try killing me? Oh, you can’t, can you?” His grin widened. “Both of you have the strictest of curses – or have you forgotten? You cannot harm me. You cannot use your ability to take my soul, Talent, or anything else away from me. You cannot order someone to rob, kill, or otherwise inflict harm upon me.”

Those were the terms of the Curse Adam that had agreed upon in order to enter the city of Gama. Judging from Solara’s reaction, they were also the terms she’d accepted to be safely locked away in that tower. The Ghost may be gone, but Belmordro’s Curse remained.

Adam fell into quiet contemplation. Unfortunately, Belmordro had put forth a strong argument. If Adam refused to kill Solara and Vasco, then an Imperial Hangman would march down to Penumbria and slaughter hundreds – if not thousands – until he painted the shattered ruins of the city with Adam’s inked blood. There was no reasonable way to stop Belmordo from informing the Hangman of what had transpired, and no way of even slowing down the Hangman, let alone killing him.

And worst of all, Belmordo was untouchable, now and forever, Adam was wholly incapable of fighting him, hurting him, or even ordering someone else to inflict any kind of violence upon him.

He could never take anything away from the man.

“Coward,” Adam said, in a low voice. “You don’t even have the balls to fight me like a man. I guess scumbags like you prefer to sit down and watch everyone dance, kill and die while you sip on some overpriced wine that probably cost more than a fucking house.”

“I’m disappointed, Lord Adam. Are you that simple of a person?” Belmordo laughed. “That’s not cowardice; it’s pragmatism. I fight for a noble cause. When your cause is just, there are no sins – even using another’s blade to fell your enemies is a noble act.”

The three remained in silence for a while.

I wish I could kill this fucking waste of oxygen with my own hands, Adam thought. But life didn’t always go like you wanted. Sometimes, you had to adapt and play with what you had...even if you didn’t like the hand you were dealt.

“It seems like we’re done talking,” Adam suddenly said. “Give us fresh horses and supplies for the trip back. It’s in your best interest if we’re stocked up anyway.”

Belmordo grinned and was happy to oblige. “Of course. Will my lady be going with you, her presumed murderer, or will she stay with me?”

“I...” Solara hesitated. “Perish the thought. Even if Lord Adam were to betray me, I’d rather die by his hand than yours. I will not remain here.”

“Very well. It is better for me if your death happens outside the Wall, anyhow. Less likely for the blame to fall on me.” He stood up and smiled at them both. “I look forward to hearing good news from you, Lord Adam.”

He wasted no time in readying their supplies. The only time in the next few hours Belmordo appeared anything less than confident was when he heard news that the Imperial Hangman was approaching, and fast. For his plan to work, Adam had to be long gone before the Hangman’s arrival.

Maybe I should stay here just to screw with his plans. But that would’ve resulted in Adam’s death by Hangman as well. No...for now, I need to leave. Even if all I want is to punch this man in the face and watch him suffer.

Unfortunately, there was more to life than what he wanted. He had to consider the people who relied on him – he was their Lord now, and it was a role he’d taken by choice.

Only a short couple hours later, Adam and Solara rode away from Gama. Their carriage was flanked by Penumbria’s mounted soldiers, and stocked up with the finest gifts Belmordo insisted on them taking, making sure to publicly act like a graceful host.

Adam played the part as well, insisting upon likewise gifting Belmordo with a few things before they took their leave. As they engaged in the theatrical, seemingly friendly farewell, Adam whispered in Belmordo’s ear, “Wait until we are gone from sight and look at the gifts I left you – my response is in one of them.”

He hoped Solara hadn’t heard him. Things would get very complicated if she had. They would still work out, sure, but Adam wanted to avoid a scene if possible.

His stomach churned as he shook hands Belmordo. This wasn’t what he wanted to do. His fists ached to pummel the arrogant noble’s face until it broke open like a rotten pear.

But I’m Penumbria’s Lord, Adam reminded himself. There’s...there’s thousands of lives that could end if I make the wrong decision. If I can’t do what I want...then it falls on me to do what I must.

And so, he and Solara left the City of Gama.

--

Adam didn’t sleep for long inside the carriage. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but a short while later, he was awoken by the buzzing sound of his tablet. A smile came to his face as he inspected the notification. Good.

“I trust you,” Solara abruptly said. When Adam turned to meet her gaze, she repeated, “I trust you, Lord Adam. You seemed on edge since we left the tower, and I imagine Lord Belmordo’s attempts at planting those seeds of doubt are largely the cause. So I need you to know this – I trust you.”

Adam grunted, turning back away from her. He planted his gaze outside the window, towards the city of Gama they’d just left behind. “You really shouldn’t put faith in people so easily.”

“I’d rather endure the sting of betrayal than wall off my emotions to the point where I never trust anyone.”

“Trust me,” Adam replied, bitterly. “You don’t.”

He didn’t trust her, even now. This speech could very well be an attempt to guilt trip him into not betraying her. Or worse, she could already be convinced that he would betray her, and was merely using this speech to get him to lower his guard. At any moment, she might sink a knife in his chest and run for the hills. None of those options seemed likely, but then again, they weren’t zero. If there was a chance, any chance at all, he needed to be on guard for it.

“It’s not that I’m naive,” Solara continued, in a straightforward tone. “This approach to life will one day drive a dagger into my back, I’m certain. But I’m just as certain that living differently would drive me mad.”

At this, she sighed. “And here I should be the one to say – trust me, Lord Adam, you don’t want to live like that either.”

He considered her words. Looks like there is more to her than what she told me back then...which makes sense. My painting knew enough of her soul to steal her Talent, but not everything. “Fortunately for me, I’m already mad.”

“That you are.” She laughed, and it felt more genuine than her noble speech thus far. “Very few sane men would have stalked into that tower while the Ghost still haunted me.”

“So, me being crazy helped you? Is that what we’ve established?” Adam asked. “In that case, there shouldn’t be any problem with me not trusting people. It’s good for you in the end.”

“You may take it that way if you wish. But if you aren’t bothered by the poisonous, untrusting nature that Belmordo thrust upon this very cabin...” There was some pointedness to Solara’s words, but Adam chose to ignore it and motioned for her to continue. “Well, then I would like you to tell me – what’s got you in such a dark mood?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Belmordo himself. I don’t like the game he set up. Not one bit.”

“Ah...yes.” Solara’s voice turned dark. “My dear uncle is something we will have to handle soon enough. Mayhap Father will have an idea on how to deal with his...his plan.”

Adam looked outside the carriage window, observing the Penumbrian soldiers escorting them outside. Brave men and women, with families, probably. None were aware that their futures were being decided at this very moment. By the whim of a single noble craving petty vengeance, everything they held dear might perish before the day was out.

“While I trust you, Lord Adam,” Solara continued, “I must confess that I have no solution to the problem at hand. The devil of a man has cursed us. We cannot inflict violence upon him. We cannot steal from him. We cannot even order others to harm him on our behalf.”

She laughed darkly at this. It was a sad, bitter sound that seemed to keep her from despairing altogether. Adam glanced at her for a moment, and saw that her hand had curled into a fist.

“I sacrificed so much for power.” Solara’s voice was low and melancholic. She was speaking aloud, but Adam didn’t think she expected a response from him. The elf was facing her own window now, looking out of it as if peering into a different world. “You painted me correctly, my lord. I need power to achieve my final goal.”

Slaying the Emperor, Adam thought. Even when alone, she wouldn’t say it out loud.

“And not just that. I need power for so much else. You know, Uncle has hated me since the day of the massacre. I remember him laying on the ground after Father bested him in their duel. He was covered in blood, of both my people and his own sire, whose corpse he’d cradled desperately moments before. Yet when he glanced at me, you’d mistake elven blood for blue, and Belmordo to be colorblind.”

She laughed again, her voice shaking slightly. “He looked at me like I was to blame for what had just happened. Gods...I was only a child, a victim of his and his father’s violence. And yet he dared to do more than simply accuse. I am sure that in his heart of hearts, he truly believed that he was without fault, and I was to blame. That my birth was crime enough.”

Solara studied her clenched fist as if it held the answers she so urgently sought. “I needed power. More than just for my goals – I needed it to keep myself alive. He would come for my life one day, I always knew. And now he has.”

She shook her head sadly. “And now that he has made his move, no amount of power I have gained will make up for it. This man is immune to our violence. More than merely stronger than us, he has made it so that we cannot even attempt to fight him. I risked my life – my soul in order to become strong enough that he wouldn’t be able to harm me. Yet now he stands in a realm where strength means nothing. We cannot harm him. We cannot steal from him. We cannot even order others to attack him. This strength that I have gained – the one I have now lost – meant nothing! My sacrifices were meaningless!”

Her voice rose at the end, anger touching her lips. “What can we – what can I do against someone like that? It doesn’t matter how strong we get. The man is the devil incarnate, may the Rot take him, but he planned for everything. Bravery isn’t enough. Power pales. Decency falls. For how many years must we put up with that man? How can we–”

“I killed him forty-five minutes ago,” Adam said.

The carriage hit a small bump in the road. He frowned as a jolt of pain lanced through his body. “Can’t wait until I get proper healing. At least the seats are comfortable; would’ve been torture to travel on horseback or something.”

Solara was quiet. At once, Adam realized the problem. “Oh, sorry for interrupting you. I hate to do that, it’s generally very rude, but you seemed distressed, and that seemed relevant.”

“What...do you mean?”

“Forty-five minutes ago,” he repeated. “Give or take. Don’t have a watch, so it’s hard to tell–”

“Not that!” Her voice was manic. “What do you mean you killed him – I was with you the entire time! He was alive when we left Gama!” The vestiges of tragic nobility within her speech eased away as she spoke. “How in the everliving fuck did you kill him? With the curse, neither of us should be able to attack him! You couldn’t even steal his Talent!”

Adam sighed. She was being very loud, and he was feeling very tired. Still, he drew a deep breath and gazed out the window into the now-distant city of Gama. “You asked me earlier why I was so upset, didn’t you?”

“I did, but what does that–”

“I’m not like you people,” Adam grunted. “Murder doesn’t come easy to me. I’ll do it if it needs to be done, but I can’t take it as nonchalantly as you lot do. By which I mean you nobles,” Adam added, “not elves. That’s not the part I take issue with.”

Solara hesitated, then said, “Lord Adam, I’m afraid I don’t...” She shook her head, then shrugged, giving up on the attempt to regain the nobility in her manner of speaking. “Look, just start making some goddamn sense will you?”

“Tenver murdered people so easily for me,” Adam stated. “So casually. I know that’s the way things are done here. And since I’m not keen on dying – our duel made me sure of that much – that means I have to be willing to kill. There’s no point in whining about how it isn’t right to take a life when my own life, not to mention the lives of the people of Penumbria, are at constant risk. But I did decide that at the very least, I owed it to the people who died because of me to look them in the eye before I killed them. It didn’t feel right to delegate murder to Tenver back then, even if he acted out of his own free will.”

“Where are you going with this?” Solara asked, suspiciously. “Did you get someone else to kill him for you? No, that can’t be it...we weren’t allowed to order anyone else to act in our stead. What did you do?”

“The curse stopped me from killing him, from harming him, from stealing his soul or Talent, and indeed from taking away anything from him at all,” Adam admitted. “Which is why I didn’t take anything away from him.”

Solara’s eyes widened. “You mean...?”

“Yes.” Adam nodded, allowing himself a grin. “I gave him something instead.”

He hadn’t lied to Belmordo, either. Not truly. The small gift he’d left for the noble contained his answer. It was an attempted painting of Belmordo’s own soul. Of course, as Adam had no idea of the man’s life or his character, there was no way he could portray him accurately – and he didn’t even try.

Adam wanted to get it wrong, and had.

Earlier, he’d been woken up by a message on his tablet letting him know things had gone as hoped.

TALENT LOST
Haunting of Flames
Your wager was unsuccessful. Your painting was not a good enough portrait of his soul.
You have forfeited your Talent of ‘Haunting of Flames’ to Belmordo, who shall retain it until death.

“I...I can’t believe you...” Solara’s eyes darted to the window, toward Gama. “You mean—?”

Adam didn’t respond. He just looked out the window and waited. If he had been awoken by the notification of his Talent being lost, the next step should happen any moment now.

He’d figured things might turn out like this. Earlier, Belmordo had shown him the letter that he’d sent to the Emperor. It was purposefully vague in case of interception. ‘Gama requires aid. A Stained Monster took over noble blood, and must be put down. We request an Imperial Hangman.’

Now...with that ambiguous information, if the Imperial Hangman, a nearly almighty creature of destruction, arrived and found Belmordo, a man of noble blood possessed by a Ghost...what would he do?

Adam’s expression tightened as he remembered what Belmordo had said at their departure. He narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on the fading city in the distance, and spoke softly, as if the accursed bastard was standing right before him. “What was it that you said before, Belmordo? When your cause is just, there are no sins – even using another’s blade to fell your enemies is a noble act.”

His voice turned cold. “Then you’ll have no complaints about this.”

A bursting flash of light went off in the distance – in Gama. It was an eruption that soared to the sky and made the carriage they resided within tremble. Solara watched it with shocked awe, both hands covering her mouth.

Adam didn’t blink. Not liking a game doesn’t mean you find it difficult, Belmordo.

TALENT REGAINED
Haunting of Flames
Your target, Belmordo of Gama, has been killed. Your Talent has now been returned to you.

--

Thanks for reading!