Chapter 109: Find The Boss!
Chapter 109
"Sheesh!" Lyra whispered as she clutched her shield in one hand, staring at the destruction Vynn and Jace were causing inside the place.
"I thought these guys would give us at least a little bit of trouble, but it turns out I was wrong. But come to think of it, these kids are monsters. Only with the two of them, they’re clearing out a room filled with adults."
"Either that, or these adults just awakened." Tom muttered as he stared at Vynn zipping from one place to the next, chopping down the men and causing them to collapse like broken dolls.
’No. It’s not that,’ Zen thought, shaking his head as he watched the chaos unfold. ’The difference between the two groups is simple. One side is a bunch of experienced Reavers who have battled dungeons and beasts countless times.
The other side is nothing but pretenders who only use their Veils to extort money from innocent townspeople. That’s why they’re losing so badly. But one thing still stands... where is the boss?’
"Sir Tom! Leave these guys to us. Go find the boss, and I’m guessing he should be in a room up there." Vynn shouted before leaping back, narrowly avoiding a thrust aimed at his abdomen.
He was about to take another step forward when the man who had attacked him first shot out a beam of bright light from his spear.
"Tch!" Vynn scoffed as he pivoted to the side, the light smashing into the ground where he had stood moments ago. The impact carved a massive hole in the floorboards, dust and splinters scattering everywhere.
"Mother fu..."
"Vynn! Language!" Jace snapped as he leaped into the air, dodging a mace aimed for his skull. ’These guys... not all of them are awakeneds. Some are great weapon users. That explains their coordination.’
SWOOSH!
The air shifted, a sharp vibration cutting through the room. Jace spun around instantly, eyes widening as he saw an arrow spinning toward his head at terrifying speed.
’Crap!’
SWOOSH!
Another whistle pierced the air as a second arrow flew in, slamming against the first and knocking it violently off course. It buried itself deep in the floorboards instead of his skull.
"Alright, they’ve got this covered. Let’s go, Lyra." Tom said firmly, glancing up at the second floor. His eyes narrowed, knowing where the true fight lay.
Without hesitation, he crouched low and launched upward, landing smoothly on the edge of the second-floor railing in a single leap.
Another swoosh echoed through the clearing air as Lyra landed beside him, her gaze calm but razor sharp, her hand still resting on her shield like it was part of her very body.
’I’m worried,’ Zen thought, his frown deepening as his eyes scanned the battlefield. ’Why haven’t we seen the guys from that shop the other day? They’re nowhere here. That only means one thing. They’re waiting upstairs. But why are they biding their time?’
Meanwhile, the two higher-ranked Reavers stood before a small double door at the far end of the hall. Both of them exhaled slowly, tension simmering as they exchanged a glance.
Without another word, they leapt down lightly from the railing and strode forward with steady steps. Each movement echoed across the floor like a warning bell.
They placed their hands on the doors and pushed them open. The hinges groaned loudly, creaking as the passage gave way to the room beyond.
Inside, the space was dimly lit by a single oil lamp perched on a massive desk of dark-stained wood. Its surface was littered with maps, crumpled notes, half-empty bottles, and old stains that hinted at nights of endless planning and drinking.
A small stack of shard pouches lay carelessly piled in one corner, tossed aside as if wealth was nothing more than loose change.
Against the back wall stood a wide bed with a deep crimson quilt, unmade and wrinkled. The sheets gave off a faint smell of sweat, smoke, and something metallic. One corner of the bedframe had a dagger stabbed into it, left there like a warning or perhaps a trophy.
Shelves lined one wall, filled with mismatched ledgers, rolled parchments, and curious trinkets that looked like trophies from past scams and thefts. A battered wardrobe sat half open, revealing expensive coats and boots that looked stolen rather than bought.
The air was thick with the scent of old wood, stale ale, and faint incense. It was a strange mix of luxury and neglect. A cracked window behind the desk let in a sliver of moonlight, casting jagged shadows across the room’s mismatched furniture.
At the table sat a man with a casual smirk, like this was just another boring field trip. It was obvious he was the boss. Standing on either side of him were two men the duo recognized from earlier.
Even seated, the boss looked tall. He was a wiry man whose presence seemed to stretch farther than his frame. His skin was a weathered bronze, etched with fine lines that spoke of years under sun and in smoke filled rooms. His jet black hair was streaked with silver at the temples and slicked back, though a few rebellious strands always fell forward.
A jagged scar ran from just under his left eye to the corner of his jaw, giving him a permanent half sneer even when his lips were still. His eyes were a cold sharp grey, always calculating, like a predator judging whether prey was worth the effort.
He wore a dark, high collared coat trimmed with faint gold stitching, the sort of coat that might once have belonged to a minor noble. Around his neck hung a thin silver chain with a crude iron token dangling from it, its meaning known only to him.
Rings crowded his fingers, mismatched and dented, likely stolen from people who never came back for them.
Even at rest, his posture was coiled and ready. He felt like a man who expected treachery at any moment and planned to meet it with a blade.
When he spoke his voice was low and smooth, carrying a controlled menace that made even confident men hesitate.
"Welcome, you all. I was already waiting," he said with that lazy smirk.
"We are here to make you pay for the wrong deeds you have done in this town for so long," Lyra said, taking the lead. She punched the air and a tear formed in space. In the next heartbeat she drew a long sword from that rift and fixed the boss with a glare. The blade gleamed cold, her stance deadly calm.
The boss only chuckled, amusement playing across his face as if the whole scene was a pleasant joke.
"How do you want us to do this? Quick and easy, or hard like the rocky earth?" Tom asked. He shrugged off his coat, revealing his greatsword slung diagonally across his back. The metal caught the moonlight and threw a cold flash across the room.