"Please, go ahead."
Patches was quite frank; he knew he had met someone even more ruthless today, and he would inevitably have to pay a price.
"I want the goods, but I don't want to pay. What do you think we should do?"
"Please, take them all! Consider it my tribute to you!" he replied without hesitation.
"Hm, you certainly know when to yield. Didn't you say just now that you could get anything?"
"Ah, well, I was just bragging."
Looking at the awkwardly smiling Tarnished, Throne shook his head. This fellow was remarkably resourceful and had his own network; after all, Throne couldn't imagine where he'd gotten something as critical as 'Margit's Shackle.' Swish—
A silver light flashed in the dim room as the Flowing Curved Sword swept out like a long whip.
Several heads flew into the air, and the spurting blood stained the ceiling red.
"Then you have no value in staying alive."
The voice was cold, like a demon delivering an answer.
"Wait! Whatever you want, just say the word!"
Patches let out a scream. He finally understood; this wasn't just a simple case of being out-thugged—he had clearly run into a madman.
The brilliant sword-light stopped at the side of his neck, leaving a bloody trail on his skin. Throne looked at him quietly, devoid of any emotion. He had extensive experience dealing with scum; for people like this, propriety and honor were useless. Fear was the only language they understood, and force was the source of their morality.
Swish—
With a flick of Throne's wrist, the silver snake wound through the room around Patches. The last few stunned heads flew into the air, and as they rolled across the floor, the room was suddenly painted with tomato sauce. Thud, thud. The Gravity Magic vanished, and the corpses fell to the ground.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, yet Patches didn't even dare to stand up as he looked at the man sitting on the table. The scent of death filled his nostrils. He was a villain, but he feared madmen most of all.
"Recognize this?"
Throne took out a crimson badge and waved it. Patches' breathing immediately became heavy.
He had a moment of realization, followed by a sense of dejection, and he couldn't help but rub his hands together.
"Lord Bloody Finger, if you had instructions, you should have just said so sooner. Why resort to weapons?"
This was indeed the Pureblood Knight's Medal.
The notoriety of the Bloody Fingers was known throughout The Lands Between, and anyone with such powerful Gravity Magic had to be a high-ranking figure among them.
"I killed your companions. Do you hold a grudge?"
"My Lord, you wrong me."
Patches suddenly adopted a righteous expression and spoke with fervor: "I am but a law-abiding merchant who was misled by those villains. I can't thank you enough for upholding justice..."
Before he could finish, the Flowing Curved Sword brushed past the tip of his nose, sliced through his robe, and pinned itself between his legs. The swordplay was incredibly precise; only a faint trail of blood could be seen on him, without harming any internal organs. Patches didn't dare move, as if under a body-binding curse.
Something very important had been mere millimeters away from being cut off.
"I like your shamelessness; it can be of use to me."
Throne withdrew the Flowing Curved Sword, his face full of smiles.
"Now, the first task: find out information about the dragons in Caelid for me. I want an answer by sunset tomorrow."
"No problem, leave it to me!"
Patches scrambled to his feet and started to head out as if escaping, but his arm was suddenly grabbed. A magic sigil flashed and vanished, leaving a cyan mark on his forearm.
"What is this?"
"A person like you isn't trustworthy. This is the Mohgwyn Dynasty's latest incantation. If you run, I will find you and apply punishment on behalf of my Lord," Throne said quietly.
He didn't know if the Mohgwyn Dynasty had such an incantation, but the Haima Classroom certainly did. As the academy's Disciplinary Committee Member, Leon would apply 'Haima's Punishment' to criminal mages to track them. When Throne was