Beauty Femme Fatale

Chapter 1 Pride and Cong

Casimir walks cautiously through the dilapidated Andil ghetto.

A torrential rain has just ended the pounding of the street, but the place still smells of rubbish and waste. It was the undeniable rubbish smell you could only smell in a crowded city; rotting innards, wood and rust mixed with a dozen or so discarded food items, and God knows what else.

Then again, he struggled through filthy puddles in a rotting brick alley. His dark robe and cloak were wet and splattered, and the indignation he felt walking through such a filthy place at night could only be overcome by his prudence. For days he had been trying to contact an arcanist or hedgemage to buy materials for his magical experiments in this port, but he was an outsider without the Sanctuary Society. He was also a rogue magician for many years, but he refused to have anything to do with the Sanctuary's combined secret society Eagle and Shield for experiments they deemed too risky. Alliances are one thing. Serving a mysterious agenda is a whole different thing, and Plexus is rife with this weird behavior and partnership. He began to suspect that the influence of the sanctuary was the reason for his better luck.

To make matters worse, he faces another bias here. He's Andil and cousin of the Hahn and Miri tribesmen in this ward, but he also bears the dark stigma of being Vabasiz. He was raised in Aliegis by a human mother and has not seen his infamous clan for nearly two decades, which makes little sense to these people or Waterfolk anywhere, regardless of their tribe or country of origin. If he was knifed or snatched at night, no one would miss him. Many of them will gladly do it themselves if given the chance.

But he was on the verge of a breakthrough, and time was running out. With no other option, he turned to the black market.

He looked around for his clan's animal allies, but cats hated water, and the rain forced them into hiding. Casimir pricked up his ears for a moment, then glanced at Mixtus Street from the corner. It was late, and from the notorious Huobao Inn in the distance, there were only a few suspicious customers. These are bad streets. Unless there is a major disturbance, no night watchman will enter this far from the ghetto at night. Casimir raced to his target through potholes and cobblestones, finding a black market trader named Gilmesh in an alley behind a row of crooked warehouses. Casimir gets paid handsomely from Firebrand's devious owner, a suspicious Harn named Oren Sahoon. For all this trouble, it better pay off.

Casimir grunted to reflect the reaction he got from criminals like Sahoon. He may be the lone wolf Plexus avoids, but his family name may turn to his advantage. In order to use his surname and social status to their advantage, he briskly turned down countless offers and loads of coins from the likes of blackmailers, but he was neither a criminal nor a lackey - and he always paid his debts. Despite prejudice against his fearsome family, he could still claim the rights of a gentleman in the Empire and proudly bear his noble name.

Casimir quickly rushed behind a row of warehouses and turned to the right branch of a three-way alley. He weaved between sticky puddles and rat-crawling litter boxes, peeking around the docks where the stones were being loaded and unloaded, while nervously imitating the movements of some aggressive spells. The alley jogged to the left, a hooded lantern hung from the octagonal plaza ahead, and the sloping beams illuminated the gurgling gutters and the setback doors of the faceted courtyard. Casimir guessed that the one closest to the lantern was Gilmesh's. He took one last look around and knocked on the door. The peeling door looked worse than sun-dried driftwood, but it must have been a glued-on facade, because the portal struck his fist with thick metal.

He heard a metal rod slide back. The creaking door opened, revealing Hahn, a big shirtless man in a black headband, with the tribal achake tattooed on his thick brown chest and arms. Baggy black boatman trousers, a maroon belt covering his legs, and a long bone-handled knife, almost as big as a sword, between the cloth belt. A dimly lit hall stretched behind the man, obscured by his muscular frame and a cloud of resinous marijuana smoke, which rushed towards Casimir's eyes and nose. If this wasn't an alley in Plexus, he might have sworn he knocked on a Sarkhawood tribe's hunting lodge.

"Are you Gilmesh?"

The Beast held out his hands in denial, responding with a flowing Unden in a Harnish accent.

"I'm Biqiao. I don't understand the accent of the Orientals. Anyway, no one likes it here. It's better to speak in the dialect of our ancestors."

Bhijo looked at Casimir, seemingly unmoved.

"You're the cat man's wizard, bad enough. Wait here."

Before Casimir could correct him that he was a magician, Bijo disappeared, his movements blowing a new dizzying mist out the door. In any case, the distinction may not matter. Just as Casimir blinked the smoke in his eyes, Bijou reappeared, attacking him with another rolling wall, this time holding a swirling Jonny potion in his right hand.

"That's the essence of what you're looking for."

Da Hanen stretched out the potion with his other hand. Casimir pulled out a bag and handed it over, but until then he thought Ellifyr oil was unlikely to be in that container. He took the potion, stuffed it into his pocket, and nervously fondled the ingredients of the spell below for comfort.

Bhijo dumped the bag in his hands, revealing a few gems and twinkling baubles, which Casimir pieced together to pay. He gave Casimir a dubious look, and finally put the jewelry back in the bag and waved as if to signal that their business was over. Casimir bowed to Bhijo, who ignored his politeness and slammed the heavy door unceremoniously.

Casimir waited a moment, then retracted the colored medicine bottle and examined it by the light of the lantern. Ellifyr oil is a rare commodity used in various magical experiments and healings, so it is often smuggled to avoid high tariffs. This could explain the strange potion. Maybe it's from Liveh or Blackwand, where this delicate glassware is more common. However, his instinct still prompted him to be vigilant and return to his lab before opening it.

Just as he decided this was the best route, footsteps and accented elven voices came from behind him.

"You should open the bottle."

Casimir reached for his part and turned, only to be hit to the side of his head, a metallic clanging sound in the air. A flash of green flashed across his vision, and he felt an unsightly cut in his ear. His head was groggy so as not to lie on the cobblestones of the alley, but he was awake enough to know that several people were now surrounding him.

"I've been waiting for you, val'Baucisz. From all the ghost stories I've heard, I didn't expect you to be caught so easily! My employer will be delighted. You still have a journey...to Iraq Mandragore!"

The fairy's voice burst out laughing.

Casimir brought the spell into his head with all his attention. His attacker is in the perfect position for his attack. He just needs a moment to sort things out.

Childish voice growls at others in a foreign language, probably Jonny.

"Oops! Isafwah uk'yeki khem. Ut baranoich, itut kaiyoh!"

Casimir looked up and saw the people surrounding him: five hooded Jonimen, three with sticks and two with nets. All belts have curved blades. God be damned, slave owner. A strange voice came from behind them, a small man with a proud face, wearing a pair of heavy shackles, turning nimbly like a flail. Kasmir wasn't sure, but he thought he saw something else in the dark alley, a man in black robes, arms neatly folded on the nearest loading dock. Overcoming his fear of who it might be, he turned his attention to the attackers surrounding him. They seemed reluctant to get too close, but the gnome gave another angry order, and the net-catcher rushed forward.

Casimir smiled, his mind cleared, and the call finally filled his mind. He spread his hands out, and a cloud of fire spewed from his fingertips. The three slave traders dodged, backed away with charred staffs in their hands, but their companions were engulfed and jumped around in panic.

Gnomes only get more angrier. He pulled out the shackles and chains and grabbed his burning follower's legs, pulling him with a wrench into a puddle of steam and smoke. Another lay charred, still under the smoldering ropes. Casimir lost no time to fire two glowing missiles at the gnome from his fingertips, but was disappointed when the magic dart hit the talisman on the villain's chest, and it ended up in vain. The three remaining followers approached with heavy staffs. Casimir dodged the first billet, but the other two landed on his shoulders and legs, causing him to fall to his knees with a cry of pain.

During that pause, two things happened.

The first was that he found Chauni philter lying beside him askew. The second was a new voice from the alley, with cold orders.

"I'm tired of it. Leave him alone, Arugwa!"

That must be the reaper, and these slaves are his hired hands. Disbanding the sanctuary in such a hurry. If the black-robed man was a cleric, Casimir would be doomed. He quickly took hold of the bottle of potion and channeled fear into his family to summon the face of one of his blood disciples, the curser. He looked at the little man named Arugwa, with a smug smile, spit out a few words.

"You want a val'Baucisz magic, slave trader? That's it!"

Black hatred surged in his chest until he turned it on the three slave masters, his rage roaring until his face twisted into a mad raging demon. Frightened by the hell creature in front of them, his three attackers turned and backed away, running as fast as their legs could and slid down the alley.

Arugwa uttered his own frustration and began to turn the shackle chain above his head with dizzying speed, but the Reaper stepped forward, holding out a hand to stop the smaller man's attack.

"You played well, Casimir, but it's over. You'd better come in peace, because I decide what happens when we get to Immandelagore. Surrender now and be rewarded. Willingly do it for me service so that you don't suffer some pain."

Casimir glanced at the reaper's belt and saw numerous vials tucked into the padded sheath - a wine bottle. Arugwa, roaring at being strangled by his master, kicked a wet, charred follower he had left behind to vent his frustration, but Chauniman was only agitated enough to make a deadly rattle, And then died. The Reaper, ignoring Arugwa's antics and the man's death, folded his arms and waited for an answer. Casimir shook his head at the brutal display and put it down. Arugwa probably thought it was a sign of surrender, as he chuckled and approached his handcuffs. He stopped when Casimir looked up with stern eyes.

"Perhaps you have beaten me, Ymandrake. But, you also don't chatter that I won't serve the sanctuary's arcane agenda for their protection and resources. God, I'm in this dirty alley, Because I won't bow down to their customs, or dangerous thugs to extract money from the inhabitants of this district, even though they have nothing but fear and hatred for me. It's all for a futile experiment in magic like you The one for me no doubt. You have to see, no matter what the reward, I cannot serve a butcher for a more dubious purpose. I am Casimir val'Baucisz, and my pride has brought me to this purpose...but I would never sell myself to anyone, at least to you."

He was surprised to see the respect on Reaper's face.

"It's called swshe in my hometown and as an atrantha you have a lot of respect for your honour."

The hooded head nodded respectfully.

"However, my master needs the blood of your family, so my honor requires me to take you in."

Just as the reapers were about to cast their spell, the commotion behind the door began—it could only be a chaotic scuffle at Gilmesh's house. Betting on his intuition, Casimir threw the medicine heavily at the reaper's feet. Even with his eyes closed, he saw a radiant flash.

The next moment took a long time to pass. Casimir looked up in time to see the Reaper, blinded by the falling glass powder, cast some commandments as he backed away. Arugwa was also incapacitated, with his chains spinning in a defensive arc over his head.

Casimir was about to spell the end of the angry dwarf, but he turned sharply, and the door behind him slammed open, revealing countless smoke and a short-haired Keogh woman with sword and axe in her hand, she There are countless cuts and scrapes on the locked body. Her gaze moved from right to left; tilted her head at the blind dwarf turning his shackle chain, frowned at Casimir, barked horribly at the flickering harvester.

The blind wizard had just had time to clear his vision when he caught a glimpse of the axe hitting his forehead with a crackling sound. In the blink of an eye, he staggered back a step, and then fell down quickly.

Casimir was stunned by this ruthless but impressive performance of martial arts, and when he dared to look away from the fallen harvester, the sneaky little man named Aluwa had slipped away . Casimir turned to Kiowoman, silently shocked as she stood in the smoke-filled doorway. Bhijo lay wrinkled on the splashing steps behind her. Casimir was equally speechless. The blood of the dead reached his nose. He resisted the urge to vomit.

Touching her stinging ear, the mysterious woman finally broke the silence.

"Sorry for taking so long. Couldn't find the right alley. Had to go through it desperately."

She put her thumb on her shoulder.

Casimir was completely confused.

"I know you?"

The simple woman smiled and put away her sword.

"No, but I know you. I'm Shainé."

With a sudden epiphany, Casimir looked down at the dead Reaper, and returned to the Keogh woman with growing rage.

"You know this routine and use me as bait! Are you the eagle of the sanctuary?"

She smiled again, ignoring his anger, and took out a schoolbag.

"Clever. Yes. And no. The local sanctuary offered a bounty for the dog."

Kiowoman unbuckled Harvester's belt, turned over his robe, and put the contents into the satchel. Casimir could see a magical formula burnt into the flaps, below which was the badge of an eagle, splayed out on the shield. His anger subsided.

"I believe I changed my mind again. So, you're a bounty hunter."

The Chio woman smiled and continued to plunder.

"Just one night's work. Don't be mad, Casimir—I hear wiksards are trained to be in control."

Casimir hadn't heard that accent in a long time. Shainé speaks Mandarin well, but his name sounds like Cass-ee-meer and her Z sounds like X. After inspecting the reaper's clutter, his savior continued.

"The local sanctuary hired me and knew nothing about my tactics. Normally I wouldn't do this kind of thing, but you and everyone else are lone wolves, why should I be different? Telling you will ruin me Plan, freak me out." Reaper. "

She grabbed the face of the dead and spoke in a voice dedicated to babies and cute pets.

"And you're careful, aren't you? I admit the wizard, I was lucky enough to knock you down, but now that you're dead, Xie Na is happy, isn't it?"

She slapped the corpse's cheek fiercely, stood with a sigh of satisfaction, and raised her schoolbag.

Casimir turned pale with fright at her cruel humor. She was burly and graceful, with short flaxen hair, unusual even among male warriors in the league. She's pretty, but unassuming, and she's not like a pure-blood. Maybe Undir's parents, maybe Shaili or Weyots. In the West, Kio is called a hybrid.

Casimir snapped back to his senses, realizing that he was standing in an alley at night with three corpses in his hands—God knows how many more corpses were in Gilmesh's smoky lair. Criminal or not, seeing this mess will get someone to call the watch...and maybe even get revenge. Casimir was startled by this idea, backed away from Xie Ne, and hurriedly turned to remove any place other than here.

"You don't want the price you pay, magician?"

Casimir stopped and turned around.

"The local sanctuary now owes me a debt to Casimir, and I did well tonight. My honor will not allow gratuitous craftsmanship, though you don't know it. Besides, I need your spells."

Shainé interrupts her statement by dumping a bag of all the familiar baubles into her gloved hands.

Casimir's patience disappeared.

"These are my rights!"

She nodded affirmatively, smiled, startled him, and trotted toward him with her hand outstretched. She suddenly reached out her index finger and clenched it into a fist.

"When I deliver what you want, I want them back. Do we have a deal?"

Casimir looked at the fist holding the last of his worldly riches, thinking back to what his previous pride had brought him. He sighed and quickly surrendered.

"We are."

Xie Ne gave up the gem with a smile and patted him on the shoulder.

"Then let's drink! That's the least I can do."

He was about to say something witty when a dazzling light shot into their eyes.

"Stop in the name of a watch!"

Casimir recognized several guards in green and white Plexus uniforms, their spears and crossbows flush.

Xie Ni raised her hands and looked at him with blue eyes smiling.

"I believe this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."