Trinity of Magic

From his perch on the roof of a run-down building, Zeke observed the distant headquarters of the Ember Scar Cartel. Ash had been right; this didn't look good. The scale of their operation was even larger than he had expected. Instead of a single structure, the entire neighborhood was under their control.

Their headquarters was like a city within a city, akin to a defensive stronghold, wholly closed off from the surrounding area. Even though it wouldn't be hard to infiltrate such a place, due to its scale, escaping would be much harder. The frightening amount of manpower on display was enough to deter almost anyone.

A conservative estimate revealed that there were hundreds of gang members, at the very least. They were easily distinguished from regular people by their uniform clothing. Most wore dark, form-fitting attire with discreet accents of ember Red. Red bandanas were wrapped tightly around their forearms, and some had the gang's insignia embroidered on the chest of their jackets, featuring a crooked dagger enveloped in flames. The entire stronghold was crawling with such figures.

Zeke's gaze traveled from the many supporting structures to the main building. It was a lavish residence that looked completely out of place here. Its architectural style was reminiscent of the grand palace up above. This was no doubt done in an attempt to borrow the prestige of the royal family and instill a sense of legitimacy.

It was also where the upper echelon of the Ember Scar Cartel resided. Zeke caught glimpses of them every now and then. The leaders moved around with a cohort of lackeys following their every step. Their attire was a masterpiece of red elegance, featuring long, flowing cloaks adorned with intricate patterns resembling dancing flames. A prominent pendant, emblazoned with the Ember Scar Cartel's insignia, hung from a chain around their necks.

Unlike what he had expected, the captains didn't seem to be much involved with the day-to-day affairs of the gang, constantly indulging in pleasure. Instead, it seemed as if the cronies following them around were responsible for handling the cartel's operation. Zeke saw them frequently leaving the side of their leaders to handle one task or the other.

Those lieutenants sported crimson leather gloves with embroidered flames, symbolizing their elevated status. Their jackets bore larger patches of the gang's insignia, and a few wore a distinct red sash diagonally across their chests, marking them as commanders in the criminal hierarchy. All in all, there were dozens of them, each commanding at least a handful of subordinates. They seemed quite alert, controlling their underlings in a practiced manner. It was a far cry from the men they served.

The captains were so unguarded, swaggering around in their stronghold, that Zeke was certain he could easily take one out with a surprise attack. However, that wouldn't do him any good as there were around a dozen such figures, and the death of a single one would not count for much. On the other hand, Zeke only had one chance, and for now, the element of surprise was his biggest asset. He could not afford to waste it on something so meaningless.

While Zeke observed the situation inside the stronghold, Ash was guarding his rear. Even though they were a fair bit away, they weren't completely safe here. The cartel took security very seriously and regularly sent out squads to patrol the perimeter. One such group of five had already met an unfortunate end upon spotting them. Their corpses now formed a pile a few steps behind Zeke.

The squad had consisted of low-level thugs, and even Zeke could have taken on the five of them without a problem. Therefore, it wasn't very likely that they held any important positions in the cartel. Even so, their disappearance wouldn't go unnoticed, meaning they couldn't stay here for much longer.

Zeke's gaze roamed the area once again, desperately searching for a way to infiltrate the main building. However, nothing came to mind, no matter how long he searched. Unlike the surrounding area, everyone entering the main building was scrutinized meticulously.

Zeke, despite all his means and tricks, didn't think he could slip in unnoticed, much less remain undetected for long. No, he needed some sort of cover that would allow him to enter the main building legally. However, this privilege was only extended to a scant few. As far as he could tell, the only parties that were allowed entry to the main building were the captains and their entourage, a number of high-class prostitutes, and the attendants. The latter two groups would also be inspected rigorously every time they wanted to leave or enter.

This wouldn't do. He would never be able to pass these inspections. But what other choice did he have? He needed to find a way to deal a significant blow to the Ember Scar Cartel if he wanted to give his allies a fighting chance in the upcoming conflict. However, was there even a feasible way to make that happen?

Alternatively, Zeke could cut his losses and leave the country immediately. He already had a rough idea of where to find the last ingredient for the Mana purifying device. However, this was not a choice he wanted to make, if at all possible.

If he decided on this course of action, Zeke would not only sacrifice Snow. The Nair family and the Lion's Den were done for as well and would most likely not be able to leave Undercity alive. Furthermore, his plans to expand his business ventures into Korrovan would die with them.

Even so, he would not hesitate to choose this path if there really were no other options. It might be cruel, but Zeke would not throw his life away in a fight that could not be won. He could not afford to — not when so many people were counting on him.

Just then, Ash appeared beside him and lightly touched his shoulder, trying to get his attention. Zeke turned around and looked in the direction Ash indicated. For a moment, he didn't notice anything, but then he detected a crowd emerging from around a corner. It was a substantial gathering — far too many to take out quietly.

Zeke nodded his understanding and quietly retreated from the ledge. If they couldn't eliminate them stealthily, it was crucial not to be seen. From behind his cover, Zeke studied the approaching group. This was the first time he had seen such a large force approaching the headquarters, and he wondered what the identity of this party was.

The man wore a long red coat with a blazing red cape attached to it. On his chest, he wore a pendant, proudly displaying a crooked dagger wreathed in flames. This was unmistakably the attire of a captain. However, none of this entered Zeke's eyes, who couldn't take his gaze off the man's face — a face he knew all too well.

It was Ishaan.

In a strange twist of fate, Zeke had reunited with this hated foe in such an unexpected place. This was the same Ishaan who had flogged him during their very first encounter. The same Ishaan who had tried to have him killed by pitting him against Ironclad. The same Ishaan who had mercilessly crippled Ripper and the others in the dead of night before fleeing like a coward.

Zeke's eyes turned murderous as all those grudges surged to the forefront of his mind. He had wanted to kill Ishaan since the very first time they met, and now, there was nothing standing between him and the justice he craved. However, once again, his instincts were tempered by reason.

The timing wasn't right.

Sure, he would most likely be able to kill Ishaan here and now. However, the death of a captain would ruin his chances of infiltrating the base altogether. Was he really going to throw away everything he had built here in Korrovan for a fleeting sense of satisfaction?

No, this wasn't the person he was, nor the person he wanted to be. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on NoveI[F]ire.net

He would endure… for now. Endure and taste a much sweeter revenge when the time was right. However, despite his mind telling him to let it go, he still had a very hard time tearing his gaze away from this hated enemy. On the list of people he wanted to kill in Korrovan, Ishaan's name was near the top, second only to the youngest Firebrand heir, who had taken his arm and left him for dead.

Yet, the moment Zeke noticed the identities of the figures trailing him, his thoughts changed. This was not a coalition of gang members but a procession of prisoners. No, not prisoners… slaves. There had to be at least a few dozen of them. Just when Zeke wondered who those people were, the answer came to him from an unexpected source.