The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 163

Chapter 163: Puppets

“The riots earlier today calmed down. The public service and mages from the Order were pivotal in that accomplishment. No deaths have been reported; a statement from the organizers have yet to be given. The fate of the festival seems dire, it might be shut down,” the lady took a pause and changed posture and tone. “As to the cause,” the voice felt sneaky but kept its overall formality. “Rumors have been going around about a secretive substance that possesses the ability to change people. The ones who provided these fluids have been dubbed Noire,” the news broadcasted itself onto various television in the commercial district.

Staxius stood before a shop that dealt in electronics. A giant windowpane separated the outside from the inside. Behind, the citizens carried on with their daily activities. Some were out shopping for food whilst others for clothes. Considering how packed this place usually was, it came as a surprise when the headcount appeared lower. This part of the district wasn’t focused on the rich and privileged but the average and poor. The commoners which made up of a good seventy-five percent of the population.

“Remind me why we stopped again?” a voice came from the entrance.

“I don’t know?” Staxius replied; the shop read, *Taka’s Electronics.*

“I found it,” the driver stepped out, “-sorry, but I’ll get the car working in a second,” the tone relieved, the man walked away.

“The car broke down,” the voice felt smug.

“I apologize for asking a dumb question,” as a joke, Scott turned around and pouted.

.....

Unimpressed, he ignored the little joke and focused on the news being broadcasted.

“Guys, get in,” Aceline yelled, the car turned back on. The driver gave a thumbs up whilst covered in oil and dust. To that, the journey to Star Tower resumed.

*Click,* the phone hung. Sat in the high-rise office, the Emperor stood and watched over the foggy capital. ‘Damn it,’ the hands rested on the glass pane. The chill gave off provided a moment of peace for the hands were sweaty and hot. The phone call from Renaud distraught the man, ‘who would have known that a stupid festival could result in such a conundrum,’ the body calmed, the erratic mind thought rationally again. ‘I need a scapegoat; else the media is going to aggravate this situation.’ Faintly, in the background, a screen played the news on loop. ‘Heh,’ he chuckled, “-I’m not emperor to one of the great nations for nothing,” he walked over and sat. A screen materialized; the hands typed – contacts from all over the capital were called in. Questions, demands, everything that happened on that day was reported to his majesty. It didn’t take long till the Order and their secret came into light.

‘The perfect scapegoat,’ a picture a scholar displayed before him. The hands moved independently; phone calls were made. First, the prince; the responsibility of not having the event shut down was given. Then, another few calls to powerful individuals to pressure the media as well as the Order. For the next few hours, the attention changed to cover up the incident’s true reason and cause. Only the part that involved the dark-guilds.

Renaud’s agents who were dispatched helped greatly. Rogue reporters and people in search of a scoop were taken out. The agents didn’t work for the God’s ale division but the assassination sect. One ruled by a man known as Stanley, someone with a short temper and the strength of an army at his command. Any piece of information about God’s ale and the dark-guilds vanished from existence. It didn’t matter who knew or where they stayed. Once a target had been placed – none could escape death.

“Here we are,” the car drove underground into the parking lot.

“Time to see what’s going on,” Scott led the way to the reception desk. There, a kind lady asked them to wait – Akhtar currently met with a few people.

“Can you give me details about how those men were dressed?” out of curiosity, Staxius spoke out.

“They wore top hats,” she replied with a smile.

*Ancient Magic: Teleportation,* he vanished. If the people in top-hats were involved; it certainly meant death or worse.

“Akhtar, your time has come. Either pay up or we shall silence you. Not as an enemy but as one who’s closely linked to us. A purge is in progress, all who knows about the organization shall perish,” the briefcase opened and revealed a gun.

“C-can’t I h-have m-more time?” for an hour; he wasted time. Phoning people to get money, acting innocent, he did all that could prolong his life.

“I’m afraid that time allocated is over,” the gun aimed.

“Not so fast gentlemen,” in a blue mist, Staxius materialized and wrapped his arms around both men who stood. Hearing that voice, Akhtar dropped to the floor.

“Who are you?” they asked, the voice nonchalant.

“Someone not worth mentioning,” the body took a step back, the hands grabbed onto both the assassins’ head and smashed them against one another. The same motion as clapping. Rattled, both fell to the ground unconscious. ‘Vampiric strength,’ he thought, without the noble blood – that sort of move would not have happened, not without using magic anyways.

“Aaaakhtarrr,” he called out in a melodic voice that resembled singing.

Cowered underneath the desk, the rather large man could not fit entirely. “Would you kindly stop playing hide and seek,” Staxius leaned whilst standing.

“I-I’m sorry,” in a haste to stand, the head hit the desk. Simultaneously, the phone rang. It displayed Prince Ernis’s name. “I’ll get that for you,” ignoring the struggling owner, Staxius picked up the phone.

“Hello, Akhtar are you there?” the voice had a frightened tone.

“I’m afraid not,” he replied. In the background, the man in question stood. He crawled from underneath the desk, it was as if a monster getting summoned from hell – one that was clumsy and slow.

“Is that you Staxius?” the voice now seemed perplexed.

“Yes, what’s the matter?”

“I’m trying to get a hold of all the organizers, is Akhtar there?” he felt desperate. Not wanting to get in the way, the phone returned its owner.

“Akhtar speaking,” he replied. Bored, Staxius tied up the assassins and began to rummage through their clothes and briefcase. The only thing found: a handkerchief and a weapon.

Downstairs, the duo could not but stand and act confused. The receptionist’s shock displayed over her face. To see a man disappear into thin air, tis was the object of fantasy. “We’ll wait over there, do tell if the man is ready to speak,” calmly Scott took the lady into the waiting area. On occasions, the girl behind the desk would glance to check on the duo.

“Why did he have to use teleportation here?” Scott questioned in a disappointed tone.

“Who knows,” she said with her eyes wandering around. People’s attention latched onto her – Aceline was a star after all.

Upstairs, the call ended. The situation got explained in greater detail. Akhtar took charge and transferred over the information gained from Ernis. What the prince wanted, “the festival must go on without fail. If it were to stop – things might blow out of proportion.”

Staxius sat on a couch with a firm stare. The captives laid in the middle of the room. “I don’t see a reason why the event can’t continue. If the media is handled correctly, the show will carry on without fail. From what I’ve seen, they greatly affect the general populous. A single word that said everything is alright, would solve all our problems.” A fair and good judgment, the time spent in Vlaiwia told a great deal about how most behaved.

“I agree, but those people aren’t as easy to manipulate. Their ideals are, to be honest with the population. The people who governed the media are a bunch of idealist idiots who sit around choosing whether something is worth being publicized. Even they don’t know that the headlines are made in such a way to create suspense and intrigue many.”

“Well,” Staxius stood, “-what about these guys in black,” he walked to where the businessman sat. “There’s more involved than money in this unfortunate incident,” he whispered. “Is there something else that you hide?” the mannerism might not have been obvious to many, but the way Staxius acted and spoke differed from people to people. The way of threatening through whispers rather than shouts. Those were the skill past down from Tempest and his teachings. The art of manipulation, one skill that didn’t involve magic though dark-arts was sometimes utilized to make the process faster.

“I-I’ll t-tell you,” the memories from a night back returned. “I c-called you here knowing that assassins might come after my life. I had a gut instinct so I contacted Scott rather than you.” The manager worked for Aceline and Staxius worked for Aceline whilst Aceline worked for Akhtar on this project alone. Indirectly, that call forced the bodyguard to accompany the rest. With a smile, the adventurer sat back and listened. Tis was a witty move, one that raised Ahktar’s worth a little.

“Before you arrived,” the businessmen’s confidence returned mildly, “- I was told that a purge got ordered. Anyone who knew about the dark-guilds would be killed without a say. Since I have close ties concerning God’s ale side of the business – I might have been spared if only I paid the protection money on time. Things came up that force me into hiding. The bank seized my private account – I can’t retrieve coins. Thus, I had to use other means,” a briefcase was put on the table. “-I’ve got the money but time has forgone this man.”

“And why are you telling me this?” he interrupted.

“Well, I contacted Karlson earlier, he told me that you worked for them. Hence, I thought you could maybe deliver this to the leader?” the voice felt apologetic.

“Well, you thought wrong, but I can help,” the upper-body leaned forward, “-on one condition. I want the event to continue and turn into something far better than what the public had planned. I want the artists to be paid handsomely. No more short-cuts; this festival must turn into the thing that makes the citizens want to forget and relax. To forget the problems that occurred in the past few days. Do that, and that plump face of yours will be left alone. ”

“I can’t guarantee that the other organizers will be on board after such a fiasco, they want to profit,” the condition was one tough and cruel.

“I don’t care,” he spoke monotonously, the head shook slightly, “-pay for it using your own money, but get the job done.”

*Gulp,* “I-I’ll do what i-is possible,” the confidence vanished.

“Good,” he replied, “-I’ll make sure that this is delivered, just don’t mess up Aceline’s hard work,” the fingers wrapped around the handle tightly, “-thanks for doing business,” he disappeared.

‘Speaking with that guy is like dealing with the devil,’ the head lowered onto the table, ‘-I thought I was going to die,’ just as the mind relaxed, the tied-up assassins awoke. ‘Come on,’ he sighed.

From the emperor to the prince and even the dark-guilds. Phones were used extensively, from threats to promises, the media and Order could not but fold. A scapegoat was given, the Order released a statement about the nature of the attack. Paradus was the mastermind behind said action.

The festival went on as ordered, the prince and Akhtar worked hand in hand. The backers who wanted to cut-ties were forced to comply. Many of the idols could not believe what had happened. More money and better equipment for the advertisement.

Indirectly, the media had to report on these new events. In a way, it dispelled any notion of some secret underground organization existing. The news given was that an exiled mage from the Order became hungry for power. This would not have sufficed if not for the one responsible himself coming out. Face with a camera, the confession could not be denied. Behind the scenes, the scholar had to willingly give up for a chance to live.

Soon after, the public’s fear subsided. The excitement for the event regained its momentum. Actors and actresses were called in to make guest appearances. Even the prince was rumored to attend. With influential people assisting, it alleviated the fear that something bad could happen. A single man had to fall for this peace, a scholar wronged for trying to innovate.

Backstage was where most of the magic happened. It held true even in the real world. People influenced one another for their gain. The dark and shady secret every nation dealt with. Lies and deception, the citizens oblivious to anything that happened. Puppets manipulated by someone of higher influence. At the center of it all, a single man; Staxius Haggard. Directly or indirectly, thanks to the subtle actions here and there; the situation turned out in his favor.