Silhouette

Chapter 62 : In the Shadow Den



Mesker, Marie, and Motiro stared at the living shadow in front of them. The wizard raised his staff and readied a fireball in his free hand, scrutinizing the entity before him with his magical senses to try to figure out what it was and what it could do while the cyborg's mechanical white arm had its veins glowing even more ready to defend herself if the thing tried anything and the pale beast released long black claws from its fingers and snarled, its long muscled upper lip rising to reveal its uncanny human mouth, too wide and with teeth that were too pointy.

Seeing that the newcomer stood still and the surrounding magical energies didn't shift, Mesker risked talking to it.

"Who are you?"

"As I said, my name is Silhouette. I am your new neighbor."

"You seem awfully nonchalant for someone facing three opponents."

"Oh? From what I heard, you wished to avoid violence unless necessary. Why should I be afraid of you if none of us wishes to fight?"

Motiro scoffed, but relaxed its claws and let them recede back into its fingers.

"Why waste energy fighting when no one would benefit."

"Exactly. Now, if this little hiccup is over, I would love to discuss our common future with you inside. I can even have my men prepare a light collation if you wish."

Marie and Mesker exchanged a look before depowering their respective weapons, the cyan veins of her white cybernetic arm returning to their usual weaker glow while the fireball he held dispersed into embers that flickered out as they fell.

"I hope you won't take offense if I make you sign a little contract?"

"Let me guess, something that guarantees your safety within my walls while ensuring you won't wreak havoc either?"

"Exactly. It's magical in nature, so no cheating."

"Out of sheer curiosity, is it impossible to go against its terms or merely heavily punished?"

"Only punished, I suppose. It would take forces beyond my own to form an unbreakable contract, but I believe a guaranteed painful death and a cursed mark placed onto the soul are good enough deterrents."

"What sort of mark?"

"Something that makes coming back from the dead harder, and which tends to attract demons."

"Simply harder?"

Mesker shrugged.

"Coming back from the dead is an impressive feat, against something like that the best a mortal can do is mess with the odds. Make the energy cost higher, the processes more unstable..."

"A lone man cannot stop a tank barehanded, but he can act as an obstacle."

"If you say so. I only hope your curiosity about the side effects of a broken contract does not mean you had any plans to go against your word."

"Of course not. I am a man of my word."

Marie groaned as Mesker and Silhouette talked.

"Mesker, just give him one of your scrolls already. I don't have all day and I'd rather be sure I won't die within the next minutes."

Mesker rolled his eyes as he pulled out another scroll from the light emitted by the tip of his staff and handed it to the shadowy figure who grabbed it with a tentacle that grew out of the cloud of dark smoke on the ground and unfurled it with another tentacle growing out of the first.

"Temporary non-aggression pact... No harming each other or our minions or superiors or loved ones... No poison or curses or tracking... No hypnosis or mental manipulation or illusion... Yes, this is satisfying."

As Silhouette confirmed his intent to respect the contract, black ink left his tentacles where they held the scroll and flowed to the bottom, spiraling into a pulsing black vortex on the parchment before settling down into black letters that spelled out Silhouette's name beneath Mesker's own. He casually passed it to Marie and Motiro who simply pressed a finger against it like they had done earlier and their names appeared next to the other two, ignorant of Mesker's frown as he stared at the spot the black had settled in.

"Now then, let me guide you inside. It is my duty as your host."

The three of them eyed him warrily for a moment and exchanged a look but, since he had signed the contract, shrugged before walking after him as he glided on the ground toward the black metallic gate of the orphanage's entrance. As the group approached it the gate opened by itself, the spiky and barred contraption letting them in before closing back shut as soon as they passed. Marie quickly tried to analyze it with her modified glasses but couldn't detect any sign of technology, which meant any detection and motorization was either too technologically advanced or cloaked for her to detect or it was magical. She turned to Mesker who shook his head, having failed to see any sort of ward or enchantment or runic structure. Motiro scoffed.

"Polite ghosts."

"Oh, I wouldn't use the little ones in such a manner and their caretakers are far too busy keeping them in check to help in a casual matter."

Motiro's head tilted, its long ears flopping around as it did so. It looked ready to ask another question but they had already reached the double blackwood doors of the main building's entrance, and once more it opened before any of them had a chance to touch it with no one else waiting behind it, but this time Mesker had been ready and on the lookout, and he noticed how a connection formed between their host and the doors. Silhouette casually glided in, uncaring about any doubts his guests might have. Mesker was the first to follow, intrigued by the overwhelming mana saturation in the building, with Motiro and Marie not far behind.

The insides of the building were just as dark as the outside, with blackwood and black marble, though Mesker noted an abundance of everlanterns lit by dark flames, ones that he knew stored darkness instead of emitting light, an odd magical feature he had once observed in a subspecies of troglodyte fire imps. The trio was quickly guided to a small office next to the entrance where three seats faced a remarkably well-made desk, a window letting them clearly see the outside world despite the glass being completely black on the outside.

"Please, take a seat. I have some business to attend to, but I'll be back to you in a second. In the meantime, I'll have one of my men bring in that collation I offered. Any specific demands or allergies?"

"Something to drink for me. No alcohol though, the arm doesn't like it."

"Meat."

"No cheese. Anything but cheese."

Silhouette nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Mesker and Marie reacted at the same time, the first one's staff glowing and releasing a wave of energy as the second pressed something beneath her jumpsuit at her waist, the both of them creating a safe space for them to talk through magical warding and technological jamming respectively.

"He seems... Reasonable. Mesker, anything demonic?"

"Not one item specifically, but there is a faint undertone to everything. A very faint one, the same way a wooden cabin still has remnants of life energy in its walls, but it's there. If I had to hazard a guess I'd say our host has some demonic ancestry and it slipped its way through his powers."

"Should we be worried?"

"No, I don't think so. I've seen imps with more demonic power than that. I was afraid what I detected was a demon's attempt at stealth, but now I know that is not the case."

"Nice, no need to worry about any horned maniac. No offense Motiro."

"None taken, cyborg. Wizard, I noticed black flames on the way here. You're the expert."

"Those are everlanterns, they are fed by their owner's mana once and then completely autonomous. Depending on the mana's type and potency they might have different effects, such as those black flames. They produce no light or warmth but instead absorb the surrounding darkness."

"Is there a difference?"

"Even I can tell you that, beastie. Those things are basically black holes instead of being stars."

"In an incredibly roundabout way, yes, though they're nowhere near as powerful as a black hole might be. On average the difference between those and regular flames is minimal, and regular flames might even be more beneficial since they produce warmth, but there is still a notable difference. For example, a plant couldn't use photosynthesis since there is no light, creatures who can't stand light would be able to see just fine, and someone with some sort of umbramancy or tenebromancy would be able to use it to manipulate those flames whereas a pure pyromancer couldn't."

"Could you?"

"Of course. I'm not one of these fools of Wicked Witchcraft who only research the best way to make something explode. Pyromancy is an art, and unlike them, I know how to use more than one color. Still, it would be hard, they already are attuned to someone else's mana signature."

"I have a good guess as to whom."

"Yes, yes. What about you?"

"I detected some devices, but nothing major. Mostly tools and weapons, if my readings are correct, but everything is a little muddled."

"Something to do with the ambient mana, I believe. Or maybe enchantments, though until a good look at such an item I can't know for sure. And you, Motiro? Did you notice anything?"

"The scents of half a dozen people, as well as a lot of corpses."

"Curses."

"Old corpses. Multiple years, if not decades. Things too rotten to be of any use. They were moved recently. My guess is they cleaned out the place a few days ago."

"I see, so nothing to be worried about?"

"Nothing more than what we saw."

"Well boys, look like our new neighbor is an ok guy."

"So far. We still do not know about his plans for this place or what sort of operation he runs. I assume neither of you wants to live near a slave trafficker, no matter how civil and polite."

"Yeah yeah. I'm not saying I trust him, twiggy, only that so far he's the best guy who decided to settle down nearby."

"Not that many of them tried. No good business or hunt nearby."

Mesker considered his allies' words as a light knock occurred at the door. Without waiting for an answer a man stepped in, wearing some leather clothes with some homemade patches of armor on the chest and limbs, as well as an approximation of some special force's helmet. In his hands, he carried a tray with three glasses, two bottles of water, and two bowls of snacks.

"Hello there, here are your snacks!"

He put the tray down on the desk before pointing to one of the bowls.

"This one is fried cockroaches, and the other one is toad jerky. Now, it may sound weird, but I swear those are actually pretty good. Sorry, we don't have anything better, we're still moving in and getting everything ready and the boss thought that snacks weren't a priority."

"Do not worry, we are used to the unorthodox. The Sunken City may be a haven for those like us compared to what goes on above, but we are still in the slums. In an area that does not see much activity, yours especially."

"Say boyo, what do you think of your boss?"

"Oh, he's a good guy. He takes care of us, he's patient, he's paying me better than any of my past employers..."

"No anger issue or violent tendency?"

"Nah, he's chill. He's not fond of the whole fighting thing."

"Aren't you worried that means he's weak?"

"Ohohoh, oh, no. I saw the stuff he can do."

"Oh? What sort of stuff?"

It was at that point that their host returned, Silhouette gliding into the room and casually passing between the trio's seats, his body contorting in odd ways to avoid touching them as he went behind the desk and shifted his body, as though he was sitting on an invisible chair. Mesker idly noted that their host no longer had a cloud of black smoke following him on the ground, and instead a singular foot, like a snail.

"I'm sorry for taking so long. Our relocation is still recent and I rarely have the time to sit down."

Mesker cleared his throat, trying to bring Silhouette's attention to himself rather than Marie who had just been trying to extract info from the man's minion.

"Oh, do not worry. I work alone, but my two friends here complain all the time about the downsides of leadership."

"Ahah, yeah. There's always a guy that wants you to do something, ya know?"

"The pack leader must be strong, but so must his mind. So many petty fights..."

Silhouette chuckled.

"Ah, but there is no better sign of being a good leader than being busy. Luckily my people have had no infighting so far. Which reminds me, you may go."

The man who had carried in the tray nodded and left, making sure to salute before he closed the door once he was out of the office.

"Lovely lad."

"Thank you. Now, I'm sure we have a lot to talk about. Maybe some business relationships, even."

At that, a similar gleam went through each of the trio's eyes. They may still have had doubts about Silhouette, they may have tolerated and even respected and appreciated each other, but in the Sunken City, no one was immune to the call of greed. Silhouette leaned forward and formed a pair of arms out of his sides that he put down on the desk, hands clasped together.

"So, what do you wish to discuss?"


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