The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 1068: “Dear Boss” [11]

Barbara, the wonderful bartender, a lovely specimen with a good personality and attractive features. Describing her as if she was an object seemed right. Igna’s nonchalant gaze landed upon a macabre scene. Night was upon the town; pressure from inner and outer forces had the investigating unit rattled. The humble hospice, remnants of what it used to be, no glory to be found in its prior architecture or paint job, remained so, a crumbling manmade structure, one of many scattered around Istra. Wooden planks barricaded windows. “Elize, don’t play with your food,” he watched from a lonesome bench set at lines of metallic beds.”

“But master,” she licked her fingers turned paws, “-I want to play.”

Barbara, the saddened thing, threw fatigued glances at Igna. Her face spoke yet of attraction. The experience was wonderful, or so she thought. A dream perhaps, one of pleasure and satisfaction, reality being a nightmare. Her arms were finely sliced. Her toes were replaced by bite marks. Her chest tore open, and her organs and entrail spewed. Imagine a toddler before a present tearing the box in search of greater things. The wrapping, her skin, ribbon, her entrails, and the present, her heart.

“Master, she’s resilient.”

“Yes, I know. I made sure she doesn’t die too quickly.”

“Master,” Elize purred. Her demonic features manifested. Her casted shadow of a feeble lady transformed into a monster, “-thank you for the feast.”

“Fine,” he toggled his phone and peered through the planks, ‘-he’s here.’

.....

“Master?”

“I have to go,” he stood, “-clean up the place when you’re done, understand?”

“As ordered,” a sinister gaze locked onto Barbara. He shut the door right at the moment when Elize dove. ‘She gets competitive when food is in question.’ With a briefcase at his side and a cigarette in his mouth, Igna left the hospice in a well-made suit. A shadowy figure loomed under a broken lamp. He walked. The military outfit came to light, “-how goes it, doc?”

“Svipe,” he puffed.

“I trust you’re up-to-date with the current situation?”

“What’s my name?” they hopped into a jeep and drove into town. The longer the drive, the deeper they went into the heart of Istra’s nobility. Past the town square, which, until today, Igna thought to be a highly affluent portion, turned out to be nothing more than a hangout. Real wealth was fixed at the edge of town, a continuous drive south, facing the sea. The influential took residence there. If one were to look up from the port, one’d see high walls fixed onto the massive cliff. They were there, on the extremity of the cliff. No homes, only manors built a few meters across. The ingenious arrangement kept the balance between space and estate. One of the greater manors stood quietly behind barricades. Security at the gate was intimidating. Svipe pulled beside the gates, “-here’s the doc,” he said to one of the guards, “-treat him with the same respect you treat a noble.”

Igna side-glanced Svipe.

“I’m not coming,” Svipe answered, “-matters have grown complicated. You know, the DB. Killer?”

“Ah yes,” he shut the door, “-keep your wits about you. I rather not see your face plastered on tomorrow’s newspaper.”

“I appreciate the concern, my lord. Please do what you must. I leave the mistress’ fate in your hands, dear doctor,” the jeep drove away, and the metallic gates opened and closed. A single road went forward and turned at a fountain-made roundabout. The land on each side was grass, perplexing considering the cliff’s rocky nature. A beautifully lit starry night rose in the distance. The view cast by the manor was majestic. Lighting was reserved – metallic lanterns lined the road. A few figures moved across the windows. Eyes were on the strange man. He took a deep breath and walked. A beautifully treated wooden double door stood on marble stairs. It opened, “-greetings, doctor.”

“Lovely evening,” he said, the butler invited Igna inside, “-if I say so myself. The breeze is very refreshing.”

“It’s the valleys, doctor,” said the butler, “-they give us much in terms of fresh air,” Igna removed his coat and stood before a grand hall. The walls were adorned with swords, shields, paintings, and portraits. Very much a familiar sight. “Doctor,” the butler stopped at an open terrace giving on the right side of the estate, “-may we have a word in private?”

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“Please,” the butler nodded graciously at Igna’s acceptance. They soon stood under the beautiful night. “-Might I ask why you were called?”

“I see you’re suspicious.”

“It is part of my job to ascertain my lady’s safety.”

“And part of my job is to heal the sick,” he answered coldly, “-the manor is a very strange place. I’ve noticed outlines running from side to side. The disparity tells a different story. Now, my job is to heal and help the ill. I don’t much care about reason or morals. The oath of physicians states to treat all equally. My adherence to said rule is paramount. Istra’s a lovely place for those in the gain. The layout and architecture are pleasing to the eye. Alas, the lack of medical knowledge and availability of physicians is, you understand, perplexing?”

“Forget I brought up the subject.”

“I answered your questions. Care if I ask a few of my own?”

“Please.”

“Who’s mainly in contact with the mistress?”

“Pardon?”

“Contamination,” he explained, “-if she’s ill, attendants might catch her illness. I must know for precaution.”

“I’m the mistress’ private aid. I help with her daily activities. As you see, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“Nothing to complain,” he paused, “-might I meet the mistress?”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

“The mistress is sleeping.”

“It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“The previous doctor advocated rest for her health. Waking the mistress, wouldn’t you say, counteractive?”

“Counteractive?” he exhaled, “-listen, I’m a busy man.”

“I know about you,” the butler narrowed, “-a slum dweller. You killed the master’s servant. I damn you!”

“Right,” he leaned on the balustrade, “-getting frustrated at the master’s desire instead of the mistress. Who do you work for?”

“The mistress,” he swallowed and fidgeted, “-I’m angry on good reason. Slum dwellers are not invited to the city. Such is the decree my lady imposed. You’re not worthy.”

“My god,” he lit a cigarette and shook his head, “-will this do?” footsteps approached from behind. Svipe’s crinkled brow took the butler by surprise, “-w-w-w-w-”

“Hold your tongue, damned traitor,” he grabbed the butler’s shirt and spoke through gritted teeth, “-how dare you, how dare you mistrust the mistress’ faith.”

“Get off me,” he shrugged, “-your kind will never understand.”

“Understand what?”

“The master is right,” he glared, “-the mistress’ best left to her own fate. No one can treat her; she’s infected by the plague GOD DAMN IT!” he breathed, “-I can’t bear to see her suffer. She’s a shell of her former self. I had to obey the master, otherwise, he’d make her life miserable. What would you know, Svipe,” the butler fell onto one knee, “-I did my best and it didn’t matter. I was a fool, I thought I could have saved her, I thought I was doing the right thing. She... she... she knew... she knew...”

“Don’t tell me,” Svipe’s expression dropped, “-is the mistress?”

“No,” the butler gasped, “-she’s alive but we don’t know for how long,” he horned onto Igna, “-the people you saw are entertainers. I called them to play and dance for the mistress. Keeping herself shut will aggravate the situation. I planned on hosting a party to cheer her mood... you had to go and ruin it with this.”

“Nigel, don’t.”

“Was this your idea of salvation? A damned slum dweller. We have money, we can afford doctors. What’s with him, a lower-class imbecile? I won’t allo-” Igna suddenly grabbed the butler’s mouth and glared, “-stop talking, ingrate,” he snuffed the cigarette on Nigel’s forehead. “AHHHHH,” muffled screams escaped. “Here’s the thing. I came in good fate. You arrogant bastard went and ruined my night. Insulting the slums is the last mistake you’ll ever make,” he took out Tharis and pressed the barrel against the man’s forehead, “-slums or the city, death comes for everyone.”

Svipe pleaded, “-let him go, doctor, please.”

The grip eased. Nigel made a fist and leaped. Igna sidestepped instantly and countered with a left hook. A crack and the butler landed a few meters away. Blood gushed, “-Doctor, did you kill him?”

“No,” he knelt, “-I held back. I’d have aimed for the throat if I wanted to kill,” Igna administered a health potion. The man was soon healed and on his feet. Precious seconds of memories vanished.

“What happened?”

“The doctor knocked you out,” Svipe chuckled, “-bad move attacking a physician.”

“He hits like a truck,” he sat in a common room, “-Svipe, I mean what I said. I don’t want him around the mistress, I’m against it. I said yes because I thought you’d bring someone competent...”

“You still doubt his abilities?” he gave a mirror, “-look at your forehead.”

“The burn mark?”

“Yeah, no scar, he healed you using magic.’

“Magic?”

“Yes, the forgotten art used in Hidros. He’s a noble.”

“He was wearing nice clothes... why would he want to stay in the slums?”

“To treat people.”

“To treat people?”

“Yes, the doctor’s a strange character alright. He is not motivated by money or fame. We crashed his hospice and even shot one of his nurses...”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

“Forget about it.”

“Where is he now?”

“With the mistress.”

Nigel jumped on his feet, “-no,” Svipe took the butler’s hand and pulled, “-not today, you won’t interfere.”

The door closed quietly. A large window overlooked the inner city. Fresh air flooded the room. Large bed and expensive beddings, blackout curtains, ‘-she’s crazy rich,’ a warmly colored carpet and a wallpaper of intricate design, “-you’re here?” said a frail voice, “-tell me, has death come?” Igna walked to the bed, “-my, the reaper of souls is very handsome.”

“Death hasn’t come,” he smiled, “-I’m here to treat your illness.”

“Treat my illness?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s Nigel, is he coming?”

“No, the butler’s entertaining a few guests. Tell me,” he examined her hands and face, giving a checkup, ‘-dark pupils, wrinkled skin, and purple. She’s a victim of the monster plague. How could there be a monster-related illness here, in a relatively neutral continent?’

“Who are you?”

“Don’t waste your breath,” he opened his briefcase, “-close your eyes and rest.” *Mana Control: Light Element Variant – Astro Krona.* cleanse the taint and *Mantia – Book of Restoration, Honzela, fifth passage, broken art be fixed, fixed art be broken, eternal cycle; creation and destruction, the levy for reality changes perspective, watcher watches, creator creates, destroyer destroys, and restorer restores, Hicht.* ‘-completely heal her body.’ her breathing slowed, ‘-lack of mana and stamina,’ two potion flask sufficed.

*BARGE,* “-GET OUT OF THE ROOM!”

‘Nigel?’

.....

“GET OUT!” the butler gritted, “-Svipe killed your nurse. You’re here to get revenge, GET OUT RIGHT THIS INSTANT.”

“Nigel,” Igna dropped the flasks, “-I warned you,” he stepped and teleported across the room, “-don’t you disrespect me again,” he locked the butler’s arm behind his shoulder, “-I’ve killed people for less,” a simple push shattered the elbow. Igna rose his feet and stomped sideways on the butler’s knee, bending the leg in a painful contortion. “-AHHH,” a blood-curling scream resounded across the manor. Igna casually rose his gun and fired, *Bang, bang, bang,* two shots in the leg and one in the shoulder, “-AHHHH!” he got down on Nigel’s level, winked at the grown man in tears, stood and kicked. Teeth flew across the room. Igna wasn’t done, he titled Nigel’s head and kicked again, taking both rights and left.

Svipe arrived too late. Igna poured salt water onto open wounds, “-too bad. You should have kept him on a leech.”

A dominant presence rose from the bed, “-how dare you...”

‘She’s awake?’

“HOW DARE YOU!” she ran past Igna and blasted Nigel with a kick of her own, “-AH!” she cringed, “-it hurts,” she fell on her bottom and hissed.

“Why did you kick him?”

“Svipe, is that you?”

“Mistress, tell me, why did you kick him?”

“The bastard’s a traitor...”