Chapter 41. Commission
At the Dark guild of Avermoor town, the iron door of one of the guild’s room opened.
The Guild Master stepped inside, his presence commanding. He was a tall, broad man with a scary face and a gray beard. He scanned the room, looking at scattered bodies. Behind him, a few workers followed, their faces pale and uneasy.
The room smells of blood and decay. The room, dimly lit by lanterns, looked like a makeshift morgue. Ten bodies lay scattered on the dusty floor, each covered with blood-soaked white cloth.
The Guild Master walked to the nearest corpse, crouched down and pulled back the stained sheet. His breath caught for a moment, though his face stayed calm.
Under the cloth was one of the guild’s most feared mercenary. he was a legend, known for his ruthless skills. But now, his body was a horrifying sight—split in half from gut to skull, his flesh torn and jagged, his blood dried to a sickly dark color.
Even the Guild Master, hardened by years of violence, felt his stomach churn.
A worker behind him broke the silence, his voice shaky. "They went out for a job... but we didn’t expect this. All of them, dead."
The Guild Master looked around the room, his eyes taking in the other covered bodies. He didn’t need to uncover them to know the truth—each death was brutal. Still, the workers began pulling back the sheets, one by one, revealing the horrors.
One slashed to half horizontally. One’s chest crushed as if hit by something massive. One man’s head and torso were separated.