Damian Zill had said to Jared earlier that day, “Got problems? Call me.” Now felt like the perfect time to cash in that promise.
“Damian Zill, do you know the name?” Jared asked quietly. The man’s face drained of color. “Damian Zill?”
Fear flickered in his eyes. Everyone in the surrounding provinces had heard of Damian, fought, drank, and bullied beneath the protective shadow of his father, the lord of Yhuville City. Only fools crossed him.
Jared stepped closer, voice soft as falling snow. “He and I are buddies. Imagine how he’ll react when learns you cheated and threatened me inside his city. Do you truly wish to find out?”
Sweat beaded on the man’s brow.
Letting Jared walk would bruise Whispers Tower’s pride, yet provoking Damian might well raze the whole building. He wavered, caught between ridicule and ruin.
Then, clenched his jaw, forcing himself to sound braver than felt as barked, “So you know Damian Zill, so what? This is Swordmaster City, not his father’s playground. Blood must answer for blood, debts must be paid!”
“You killed someone, so you stay put. Either hand over your lives or cough up enough spirit-stones to cover the cost. Otherwise, forget walking out of Whispers Tower alive!”
He was clearly trying to keep from angering Damian too deeply while still salvaging a shred of authority, so dangled compensation as a compromise.
Jared looked straight at the man, his voice low and even. “I’ll say it again, I’m Damian’s buddy. If you have any sense, return the one million you took from us, bow, and apologize. Do that, and maybe we walk away quietly!”
“If you refuse, when arrives, he’ll level this dump. Damian’s temper is wicked, and he’d think nothing of tearing your rickety tower down brick by brick!”
‘You dare threaten me?” The man’s face darkened. He told himself Jared was only using Damian’s name as a bluff, if backed down now, would look spineless.
He let out a brittle laugh. “Damian Zill? He’s nothing! You think Whispers Tower can be scared that easily? He isn’t even here, and even if were, none of you would leave unscathed today!”
A cocky voice boomed in from the street. “Who just called me nothing?! Step forward and repeat it to my face!”
Before the echo died, a figure hurtled through the entrance like a gale, Damian himself, flanked by several hard-eyed cronies who radiated menace. Damian took in the circle of guards, the corpse on the floor, and Jared hemmed in at the center.
He let out a cold chuckle. “Really? All this fuss over my buddy flattening a petty servant? Whispers Tower wants trouble with my people, huh?”
He strode to Jared’s side, clapped on the shoulder, and growled, “You all right? Anyone who lays a hand on you, I’ll break.”
The man’s bravado drained away. His skin turned chalk-white. “M-Mr. Zill… What brings you here?”
Damian angled his head, eyes glittering. “If I hadn’t shown up, my brother would’ve been bullied to death. And remind me, were you the one who called me nothing?”
The man flapped his hands desperately. “N-No, sir. You… You must have misheard. I’d never dare!”
“Liar!” one of Damian’s followers roared. “We heard every word from outside, came straight from your mouth, old fool!”
Damian stepped in so close the man could feel his breath. “You’re denying it? Maybe Whispers Tower shouldn’t open its doors tomorrow.”
Without warning, Damian’s palm flashed forward-lightning fast.
A dull thud. The man sailed backward like a severed kite, smashed into the wall, and crumpled, blood pouring from his lips. Life was already leaving his eyes.
