Staring at the burning sigil, the wolf demon went ghost-pale. “I’ll talk! I overheard our chief say joined the siege on the Flaxseed clan, that’s all I know!”
“You swear?” Jared asked. “Swear it!” the demon cried. “The chief and his deputy were bragging! I just happened to hear.”
Jared and Flaxseed exchanged a long look, anger simmered behind their exhausted eyes. So, even the infamous Baldric had joined the slaughter of the Flaxseed clan. If that was true, every faction around Nine Serpent Mountain must have dipped its hands in its blood.
“Time for you to die then…” Jared said, and with a single clean arc of Dragonslayer Sword, severed the wolf demon demon’s head from its shoulders.
“What now?” Flaxseed asked.
“First, we dispose of Victor’s body, then return to Blackwind Stronghold and report, acting as though we saw nothing.” Jared’s voice stayed level. “While we play the loyal recruits, we keep our eyes open for cracks in their walls.”
They burned the carcasses of both Victor and the wolf demon, kept only the serpent’s head, and started down-valley toward Blackwind Stronghold.
At the fortress gate they offered the grisly trophy to Baldric himself.
Baldric turned the head in his hands, delight flickering across his weathered face. “Well done… Well done! I never thought the two of you could bring down Lord Greene. From today on you belong to my hold!”
“We’re grateful for the shelter, Chief Blackwind,” Jared replied.
“No need for thanks,” Baldric said. “Rest tonight. Tomorrow I‘ll find proper work for men of your talent.”
He motioned a guard to show them away, then carried the head through the council hall and into a hidden chamber beyond.
Inside, an elder in a gray robe sat with eyes closed, so gaunt he looked carved from driftwood. Yet the power that seeped from did not bow to Baldrlc’s.
Baldric bowed. “Master, Chief Greenscale is dead by my hand…”
“Good,” the elder murmured, a spark of cunning flaring in his sunken eyes. “Those two human cultivators, can they be trusted? ”
“They seem harmless,” Baldric said, “But I know nothing of their past. I will watch them. If they prove loyal, I’ll raise them up. If not, I’ll silence them.”
“See that you do,” the elder answered. “Nine Serpent Mountain stirs, and word from Blackshade Demon Palace grows restless. Guard your tongue about the Flaxseed clan’s fall, no one must learn the truth.”
“I understand,” Baldric said, bowing once more before slipping out.
The hidden door thudded shut, sealing the elder inside his dim sanctuary.
***
Elsewhere, a guard settled Jared and Flaxseed in a spartan guest room, bare floorboards, a single lantern, but at least It was clean.
“Who was that old man?” Flaxseed asked. “His aura felt stronger than Baldric’s.”
“I don’t know,” Jared said, “But whoever is, he’s the true puppet-master of this hold. We tread softly until we are certain.”
“What’s the plan now?” Flaxseed whispered.
“We rest until nightfall,” Jared replied. “Then we slip out and search the chambers behind the council hall. The guards here are tight-fisted, one wrong step and we’re finished, so stay sharp.”
Night draped the hold in silence as the two men eased the door open and vanished into the shadows, moving toward the hidden room where secrets waited like coiled snakes.
Jared and Flaxseed guessed that Baldric and his aged mentor were inside the sealed chamber, discussing secrets of the massacre that had wiped out the Flaxseed clan.
Careful to avoid patrolling beast cultivators, they crept to the chamber door.
