Lucan’s POV - Rendall Street.
***
"I wonder why he ordered this..."
Lucan muttered, marching with his armored plate while cloaked in crimson, wearing the official coat of arms of the Thirell family, and along with him, thirty elite guards, his personal men, unlike the knights.
SHIFT.
SHIFT.
The snow echoed across the dark streets, but not enough to reveal their location. Lucan had a steel expression, preparing for the worst.
"This is it..."
They were now just in front of the bakery itself, which looked unassuming enough: a simple sign, the smell of bread, and an overall feeling of it being properly used.
But Lucan himself knew that looks can be deceiving.
He raised a finger, signalling to the men behind him to unsheathe their swords and surround the building.
"Let’s see if the duke’s worries were valid."
He unsheathed his own sword, approaching the building before kicking it open; he preferred alerting the entire compound rather than sneaking around.
Lessens the risk of being stabbed in the back.
He took a step back slightly, ready to strike as he waited for anyone to take the bait, to see if anyone tried a rushed escape.
SLASH.
A sound came from the left, one of his guards, cutting through three cloaked men at once.
"Armed! all daggers!"
The guard shouted, and the rest followed, seeing more run out of the building in a rush.
"Kill on sight! I’ll decide who lives as prisoners!"
Lucan ordered quickly, swinging his arms, before hearing shouting coming from the front entrance.
"AGGHHHH!"
STAB.
Lucan killed the attacker easily, stabbing him through the heart before kicking him off his blade.
"Charles, Vermont, on me!"
He ordered, before entering the building, with two other heavily armored guards entering with him and watching his back.
"Ignis!"
Lucan grumbled, his sword igniting into flames, lighting up the entire room he was in, making the raid easier.
He was one of the few who could use these kinds of gifts, magic granted by the gods themselves after mortals had proven themselves.
And Lucan had proved himself countless times already.
SLASH.
STAB.
They cleared out the building efficiently, the cloaked figures nothing more than a warmup, only barely surpassing commonly trained militia when it came to skill.
"Hah! These are the ones that dared to assassinate the duke!? their nothing more than ambitious idiots!"
SLASH.
Another clean kill, decapitation, causing the head to fly across the room.
But they didn’t dwell on each kill, moving quickly to clear out more until they found an object of interest.
A trapdoor leading below, the true hiding spot for the Shadow Society, but at this time, far weaker than they were in the actual novel that Justinian feared them to be.
Lucan ordered Charles to open the door by the side, while Vermont and he kept watch for anything or anyone that lunged out from it.
BANG.
The moment the door was even slightly open, it exploded outward, a group of five ascending immediately.
But like always, they were dealt with like they were paper.
SLASH.
SLASH.
SLASH.
The entire room looked like a torture chamber, filled with blood and severed limbs, and even covered Lucan and the other two in gore.
But they didn’t mind, their eyes clear on the objectives.
"We stop here, we don’t know if this place is rigged to explode."
Lucan barked, ordering to exit the building immediately, instead deciding to create a perimeter around it, creating a mini siege to bait out the rest inside.
’I already have men by the sewers, no escape there as well.’
"Mission accomplished! Set up camp, rotate for the night, we will see how these whelps react!"
Lucan laughed, relishing in the action and the easily accomplished mission. He didn’t dislike the simplicity; in fact, it was great. If less harm was done, then it was better.
"I can’t believe a group this big was just hiding in Snowkeep."
Vermont, behind him, spoke; they had killed dozens of men just on this operation alone, the implication alone making them shudder.
"If there are any more hiding..."
Charles replied, but Lucan cut them off before they could get any other ideas.
"Then we’ll snuff them out, easy as that, we’re not paid to think, that’s the duke and Matthias’ job."
Lucan barked.
"Now help prepare the camps."
As the two left, Lucan was left looking at the building with a heavy expression, stroking his beard.
How did Justinian even know of this location? He had never left his palace until now, and how did he know this was the headquarters of a secret society?
’That bastard... I guess talent really does flow in the bloodline.’