Chapter 142 – The Cold Night

Although he was sure that the mansion was well protected by his guards. He could not shake the feeling of fear that covers him. When did things go wrong? He thought. He recalled the day that his colleagues received information about the rise of the Princess of the Maltius La Fende. They receive the information and sent it to the Lord Officiator.

The Lord Officiator was a greedy man. He wanted power and rise to the top. He and his colleagues were ordered to take the man who caught the heart of the Princess. Make him work for them under the guise of money and all the wealth. But who would have thought that the man was a wreck and that the soldiers pushed him into suicide?

They tried to find the killer but they couldn’t find a trace. He and his colleagues thought that it was a shame. They were about to turn their attention to somewhere else. They had a war to fight. But then the news of their colleague’s death shook them. All of them went to their colleague and saw how horrible their colleague died.

Maybe the assailant was waiting for them. Because how could he know who to target if they didn’t show up at their colleague’s house? That was their first grave mistake. They thought they could hide from the assailant but he had help from well-versed trackers. They deduced that he gathered the help of the Cagan natives. Each and every strike they do was coordinated by them. The infiltrators would distract the guards while the assailant would do what he came for.

At first, they thought their guards could protect them. But one by one they were mutilated and murdered. The assailant leaves his victim’s cheek skinned. So he knew that all of it was done by the same person. Their worries were slowly growing. They thought that the Lord Officiator could help them. But what did that bastard do? They ignored him and thought how silly they are for not being able to protect themselves.

They were angered by the response of the Lord Officiator. More of them died brutally and despite that. The Lord Officiator ignored them. So when the attack on the tower happened. And they were proven right in their fears. It was too late. Most of his colleagues were dead. The Lord Officiator didn’t contact him and tried to save his hide first.

He thought that they might get a bit of relief with the Head Judge and the Lord Officiator acting. But when they heard the news that a building was burned and that the infiltrators from Cagan and Bali were dead. The Lord Officiator lowered the security. They thought it was foolish. They knew that the infiltrators were not working alone. But they didn’t listen and his colleagues were still being hunted. He retreated to his mansion in fear after hearing the last of his colleagues got killed. He posted guards around his mansion and hid here.

He thought he would be safe. But he was wrong. His servants were gone. His loyal bodyguards were dead, their mouth-foaming from poison. He didn’t know how the assailant managed to know his location. But he didn’t dare to ask. He took all of his belongings and tried to escape.

He went out of his office’s door. He looked from left only to see someone standing in the right. Seeing the person, he raised his pistol and squeezed the trigger. The person tilted his body and was able to avoid it. He was shocked. He was scared. He tried to run away only to hear a gunshot coming behind him. He felt the back of his right knee hit. He landed flat on the ground. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But he had no time for that. He crawled forward and ignored all the riches he tried to take with him.

He was shaking. His breeches were soiled. He looked behind and saw that the person was slowly walking towards him. He ignored the pain in his right leg. He stood up and dragged himself away from the assailant. But the assailant followed him slowly. No matter where he turned the assailant would predate him. He tried shooting with his pistol. But the assailant was able to dodge them as if he could see the bullet’s trajectory.

He emptied his pistol at the assailant. But none of the bullets could hit him. He started to his feet and slowly descended the stairs. He was just steps away from his car. If he could escape he would surely find the bastard again and make him suffer. He promised himself that.

But hope was the first step to disappointment. He tripped out of misfortune and rolled down the flight of stairs. He felt his leg sprained. He finally shouted in pain as he agonized. He despaired and when he looked he saw the assailant slowly walking towards him.

It was night and the moon’s light made the assailant a living hunter. He couldn’t see his face. His hair was covered under a hood. But he could see the cold seething fury in his eyes. It was so cold and dull. It was the eyes of a madman.

He was unruly and unkempt. In his hand was a pistol. He looked up at the man. He tried to open his mouth. He tried to plead for mercy. But yet he could see clearly that his life would end here. His life flashed before him. He looked back and if he could. He would rather avoid choosing to pick a fight with this person. He knew his sins. But he mustered up the last of his courage, asking.

“Why are you doing this?”

The man looked at him. He didn’t say any words. He only gazed upon him. The man seemed like he was lost in thought for a second. But then his words rang out to him clearly.

“You drove my friend to his death.”

Then a gunshot rang out. The man was shot in the forehead. Blood quickly filled the back of his head. His hair was wet with blood. The assailant looked at the man before walking out of the mansion, leaving only a trail of bloodied footprints.