Chapter 2

I gently pushed Eileen’s trembling hands away and strode toward my apothecary.

That already shaky door had been kicked clean off. Half the door panel had slammed onto the counter, sending splinters flying.

Inside was wreckage.

The shelves I’d built with my own hands were tossed onto the floor. Precious tinctures mixed with dirt and ran into a filthy, glaring sludge.

The parchment formula sheets I’d spent years collecting were torn into countless scraps, scattered like dead butterflies.

At the center of the room stood Kahn Ironanvil.

Behind him were three elven enforcers in black leather armor, stomping on my life’s work.

Under Kahn’s boot, pinned hard, was a short staff.

Crack.

A crisp snapping sound. The moonlongstone set at the staff’s tip splintered under the pressure, hairline cracks spreading across it.

It was the only keepsake left from my first secret mission three years ago.

Kahn raised his head. His fleshy face pulled into a viciously arrogant grin.

“A Grayroot bastard, hiding something this delicate?”

He pressed down again, grinding the moonlongstone into powder.

“Heard you could fight yesterday. Today I’m going to wake you up and show you who really runs Grayroot.”

I stared at the silver-white dust on the floor.

The fire I’d forced down for three years burned straight through my last line of restraint.

My fingers tightened bit by bit, joints whitening from the force.

My ears, once lowered in submission, flattened back like a predator’s.

“Who…” I heard my own voice echo in the ruined room, without a hint of warmth.

“Who gave you permission to touch it?”

Kahn froze for a beat, then waved a thick hand. “Cripple him.”

The three leather-armored enforcers lunged like dogs that smelled blood.

The first one drew a short blade and stabbed for my ribs.

I didn’t retreat.

The moment the edge was about to touch my rough apron, I slid sideways, my left hand cutting into his line with precision.

My right fist followed, a heavy punch ripping the air, smashing into his chest.

A dull explosion of bone.

He flew back like a torn sack and slammed into the solid wooden cabinet against the wall, going limp instantly.

The second enforcer roared and swung a heavy copper baton straight for my temple.

The wind of it was sharp.

I dipped my head slightly. The baton skimmed my hair.

As his strike missed, my right hand clamped his wrist like iron and twisted outward with his own momentum.

A joint popped out with a sound that made teeth ache.

Before he could scream, my right knee hit like a hammer into his stomach.

He didn’t even get a sound out. He dropped to his knees, folding in on himself.

The third enforcer was terrified out of his mind.

He looked at his companions on the floor, pupils shrinking. He turned to run.

I stepped once, grabbed the back collar of his armor, and yanked.

Muscles flared. I ripped him back and threw him down at Kahn’s feet like a bag of trash.

Three seconds.

The three enforcers he’d bragged about were wiped clean.

Kahn’s grin froze. Real fear finally surfaced in his eyes.

But he had no way out. He yanked a short spike from his belt, coated in dark green poison, and stabbed for my throat like a madman.

Too slow. Too many openings.

My left hand shot out, caught his wrist, and folded it outward.

The spike dropped.

My right fist crashed into his nose bridge.

Blood burst.

I didn’t stop.

A step in. A side kick, precise into his right shoulder.

Dislocated.

Turn. Downward chop. My knee drove into his left elbow.

Shattered.

Then one boot stepped into the back of his knee.

Kahn’s heavy body collapsed, a puddle of meat in broken bottles and splinters.

Pain broke his will. Mouth leaking air, he started wailing in shrill Elvish, tears and blood smearing his face, begging for mercy.

I crouched and picked up the broken piece of the staff.

My pale-gold eyes looked down at him, without pity.

“My things are not for you to touch.”

Kahn shook violently.

He didn’t even dare check on the three unconscious men. With the one hand he could still move, he dragged his ruined body out, leaving a bright trail of blood, crawling like a worm.

The alley fell dead silent. The onlookers had long since vanished.

I stood alone in the wreckage.

I bent down and picked up the mud-stained parchment scraps one by one.

The rough paper brushed my fingertips. The warmth in my eyes drained colder and colder.

The last strip of sunset was swallowed by the towers. Darkness flooded into Grayroot.

My ears stood alert in the night wind, catching every smallest sound in the dark.

The silence didn’t last.

In the deepest shadowed corner of the shop, a faint blue light suddenly flared.

It pierced the thick planks with a long-missed magical pulse.

My heart jolted.

An enchanted commstone. I’d sealed it for three full years.

No one knew that frequency except one person.

I strode over, shoved aside the broken boards piled on top, and pressed my fingers to the cold stone.

The blue glow brightened instantly.

A hoarse, tired, yet painfully familiar male voice in Elvish echoed through the empty shop.

“Shadow Song… long time no see.”

My breathing stopped for half a beat.

Serandir Morningdew.

Back in the Emeraldleaf Covenant, my most trusted second-in-command.

Morningstar.