The Contractor's Conquest

Chapter 6: Shadows in the Moonlight

The moonlight faded into the gathering clouds, plunging the village of Florence into an unsettling stillness. The night was eerily quiet, the only sound a faint rustling of leaves. In the backyard of Sylas's home, two cloaked figures emerged like wraiths from the shadows.

One of them, a towering figure over six feet tall, scanned the area with a predatory gaze. His voice was a low rumble as he addressed his companion. "Captain, I've secured the perimeter of the whole village. No one will leave without our permission."

The shorter man, lean and composed, spoke in a deep, measured tone. "The client's request for a Captain's presence speaks volumes. It's none of our concern, though. Let's stick to the job."

The taller man nodded, his tone steady. "Understood. Our mission is clear: eliminate the head of this family, Mark, and leave no witnesses."

The captain's lips curved into a faint smirk, hidden beneath his hood. "Let's begin, then."

The taller man stepped forward, activating his ring. A vivid blue glow emanated from his wrist, growing brighter as mana flowed into it. A pair of short swords materialized in his hands, their edges sharp enough to gleam even in the dim light.

Raising his weapons, he slashed them through the air, releasing a deadly wave of mana. The energy expanded into a massive, crescent-shaped arc that surged forward with devastating force.

"Fury Blades: Bisector!"

The slash hit the house, splitting it cleanly in two. The sound of destruction shattered the night's silence as wood and stone crumbled into debris. A thick cloud of dust rose, veiling the ruins of the once-cozy home.

The larger man stepped back, letting the swords vanish as he spoke. "It's done."

The captain observed the aftermath, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of life. "No screams. Odd." He frowned, gesturing for his companion to follow. "Stay alert. Something's not right."

---

Thirty Minutes Earlier

The house was alive with the sounds of conversation and laughter. Mark and Sylas were sitting at the dinner table with Arthur, the village head. A man in his mid-forties, Arthur carried himself with an air of quiet authority. He and Mark had been friends for years, sharing a bond forged through mutual respect and trust.

"It's good to see you again, Mark," Arthur said, his deep voice warm with familiarity. "You've been away from Florence for far too long."

Mark chuckled, pouring tea for his guest. "The life of a merchant isn't as glamorous as some might think. But I'm back now, and it feels good to be home."

Arthur turned to Sylas, who was listening quietly. "And you, Sylas? How have you been holding up? I hear you've been helping your mother at the shop."

Sylas nodded, a small smile on his face. "I've been keeping busy. It's the least I can do while Father's away."

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his expression softening. "Good lad. Florence could use more young men like you."

Their conversation was interrupted when Arthur suddenly tensed. His sharp eyes flicked toward the window, his jovial demeanor replaced by a look of concern. "Mark," he said, his voice low. "Something's wrong."

Mark followed his gaze, frowning. "What is it?"

Arthur didn't answer. Instead, he stood abruptly, his hand instinctively moving toward the ring on his wrist. The glow of activation barely had time to surface when the world outside erupted into chaos.

A deafening crack split the air as the house was struck by a powerful mana slash. The walls shuddered violently before collapsing in on themselves, debris scattering in all directions.

---

Present

As the dust settled, the ruins of the house came into view, reduced to rubble under the attack. The two cloaked figures stepped closer, their movements deliberate.

The taller one spoke, his voice low and cautious. "Nothing but ruins. Did we get them all?"

The captain narrowed his eyes, scanning the destruction. "Don't be so sure. Look again."

Beneath the debris, Arthur crouched, his ring glowing faintly as a shimmering barrier of mana surrounded him. Within the protective dome were Mark, Sylas, and his mother, all huddled together and unharmed.

Arthur's face was grim, sweat dripping down his brow from the strain of maintaining the barrier. "Mark," he said, his voice tight with effort, "we've got to move. They'll realize soon enough."

Mark's expression was a mix of shock and gratitude. "You saved us, Arthur. I owe you my life."

Arthur grunted, his focus unyielding. "Save the thanks for later. Right now, we need to get out of here."