33 Risen#re - Chapter 371

The branch head of the merchant guild, Moors Plibian had been stationed just outside the gates of the keep for days now.

He was waiting for the opportunity to get in and speak to Lord Rupid about the magical solution that could clean the entire city, and vast troves of his wealth were there in his carriages, and that was just the least of what he was prepared to offer.

He had truly thought that he struck gold, and was determined to stay here until he got in.

The crowd that originally lined up at the gates however no longer existed, first there was that freak attack in the night.

Moors Plibian had been stationed here, and remained unmoving he might have been a little round on the belly and a little stumpy on the arms, but he was an adapt, he didn’t have training in the way of combat as most of his time was spent working, but he wouldn’t fear some angry mob.

Besides no one was so foolish as to attack a member of the guild, let alone a branch head such as Moors himself, yet he was soon proven wrong in his thoughts.

On that night the keep opened its gates once again, and out came a furious cavalry charge, Moors found his carriages knocked over and he himself was almost run over by a dozen warhorses.

He managed to escape by the skin of his teeth, it was a strange night alright, but in the name of diplomacy Moors forgave the people of House Kurt, he could accept that it was a tough time for them and time was of the utmost importance.

But then they returned without offering him so much as an apology, but Moors still remained, he’d waited for days he could wait for a few more, but that was the day that everything changed.

Through the killings of the refugees, and the blood mist Moors kept his guards and remained in place, and no one dared to try force him into joining the efforts.

Not even the great noble houses would dare to try to command the members of the merchant’s guild especially as an armed force, the guilds influence was far too great for anyone to dare attempt to command it.

Even a high nobles title could be revoked if they tested the guilds power, let alone some noble lord out in the middle of nowhere.

Moors remained even under such trying conditions simply because he knew the value of what he found, and treasure was putting it lightly.

Currently Moors was still camped outside the keep, he saw the lord and his brother leave the keep and then return with haste, he didn’t get the chance to say a word but he knew it wasn’t the time, he could hear the commotion in the keep.

A few minutes later Moors heard what sounded like a thunderclap then a yellow light streaked through the thinning mist as the first rays of sunlight came down.

Moors looked at the familiar yellow aura, “Isn’t that the aura produced by the Kurt cultivation technique,” he muttered as the large human sized object smashed into a building, razing it to the ground.

Moors rushed over wondering just what the hell was going on, his purple merchants coat flapped in the wind as his stubby legs brought him to his destination.

Moors eyes widened when he saw Lord Rupid lying flat on his back in the ruin, blood was seeping out of his body and his right arm was a mangled mess.

The yellow aura was gradually fading away, “Lord Rupid,” Moors called and sifted through the rubble to reach the lord.

As Moors reached Lord Rupid he found that he was still alive, and still conscious, but his body was in such a bad condition it wasn’t likely that he’d be moving any time soon.

Moors was just about to offer his aide to the lord when something even more frightening occurred, a frightening heat wave washed over the city and as Moors looked to the source he found it hard to keep his eyes open under the piercing light.

Waves of heat washed over Moors and the crimson mist was entirely washed away.

But what became visible was enough to make Moors wish that the mist would return.

Dead bodies lay strewn all over the place, there was not a single direction he could turn to without seeing a corpse and blood, blood that was currently drying and crystallising on the wall.

“A city of the damned,” Moors spoke a line that came to mind, it was a line of one of his favourite fictional books, and he felt it to be ever so fitting.

The flash of heat suddenly vanished, and Moors watched the keep intently, wondering if this was the doing of that self-declared god, the silver haired one that everyone was looking out for.

Moors also wondered if this was perhaps the work of one of the other Noble Houses, they were already at war with each other, even if they were currently keeping it to a border conflict, so it wouldn’t come as a surprise to him.

But just then he saw someone appear on the top of the walls, and he saw the silver hair fluttering in the wind, and besides the self-declared god there were two other people, people he recognised.

The first being Izlandi, they had many good business dealings with each-other, and he admired Izlandi’s work ethic a lot, in the past year he had even deeply contemplated taking her on as an apprentice, but due to her hand already being owned by House Kant he didn’t do as he intended.

It wasn’t wise to unnecessarily step on the toes of high nobles, over such a small matter.

When he looked to the other side of Lirian his mouth opened aghast, he certainly knew who the ugly lump was, lord Stanley, heir to House Kurt.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing the man was being held in the air by some spell, he presumed, but he was buck naked, with everything to be revealed.

Moors found it a disgusting sight to gaze upon, but he felt no sympathy or pity even for the him, after what he had done, Moors was glad to see that he was being served justice.

Then the man on the wall spoke, “Are you going to help them?” the man asked, and Moors felt that the question was directed at himself.

As he looked to the silver haired man Moors found it hard to look away but at the same time his primal instincts that he thought he was to fat and lazy to have, started to shout at him to leave the mans presence at once.

He couldn’t make out what Lirian looked like at such a distance, but he could see that his eyes were closed, yet there was a horrifying gaze that seemed to completely see through his very being.

Moors looked between the barely conscious Lord Rupid and the silver haired man with some hesitation, but after a while he shook his head.

“My apologies Lord Rupid, it seems that I cannot offer you any aide at this time,” he said with an apologetic bow to the lord.

If Lord Rupid’s condition was a product of a fight against that man, then he knew that he had absolutely no chance.

“My apologies for getting in your way,” Moors said offering an apology to Lirian before scrambling of on his stubby legs.

Before vanishing from sight he cast a final glance at Izlandi, ‘Its such a shame that she landed in the hands of such a monster,’ he thought regretfully.