Magnus didn't bother keeping track of how long it took for the screams to fade. Minutes passed, but the exact number didn't matter.
Niall was the last vampire left in Arlcliff City—except for the few Magnus had handed over to Eveline. That almost meant that he was officially the strongest. After absorbing all those Nightborn and Hierarchs, his strength was firmly in the Master Class. Vampires as a whole could usually be considered jacks of all trades, but masters of none in the truest sense. Physically, they could match knights, but only when compared to their passive aura use. Not when active enhancements, aura styles, or will manifestation got involved.
They also had their own brand of abilities, visually similar but still different than magic. Those could give any Adept-level mage trouble—let alone an Apprentice. But as such mages neared the Master level, countering abilities that negated magic became the norm. With the right skills, there were plenty of ways to handle vampires. In a sense, they were like magic knights, weaker than both real knights and high-level mages at their best. Still, with their immortality, regeneration, near-limitless stamina, and immunity to spirit suppression, they were masters of attrition.
They were the kind of enemies you never wanted to be outnumbered by, or forced to fight without a way to seal or truly kill them. That's why even a building full of mercenaries—trained to fight monsters and mana beasts, and boosted by superhuman tonics—didn't stand a chance.
Magnus's footsteps echoed through the now-silent building. He barely glanced at the corpses scattered across the floor. Some looked as if they'd been hit by a cannonball, their armor dented, their bodies crushed beneath the metal meant to protect them. Others looked untouched, victims of vampiric abilities that bypassed physical defenses entirely. It was clear Niall rarely bothered feeding on his victims—human vitality wasn't worth the effort at the level he was at now.
The lack of destruction made it obvious how easily the vampire had dealt with them. Aside from the occasional sword gash in the floor or wall, and an arrow lodged here or there, it looked like every mercenary had been taken out in a single attack, with no chance to resist.
Stepping over another body, Magnus headed for the stairs and started climbing. His footsteps and the creak of the wood echoed through the building, creating an eerie atmosphere—one that didn't touch him now. The Metal Gear Guild's building had four floors, and Magnus was making his way to the top, guided by the information Basker had pulled from the guild member still trapped outside.
At the top of the last flight, Magnus found Niall waiting, already bowed. He looked completely unharmed—his clothes didn't even have a scratch.
"My Lord, I've done as you ordered." Niall lifted his head, meeting Magnus's gaze, and continued.
"There were about forty-eight guild members here. I eliminated them all. The rest are out on missions or scattered around Arlcliff City. Some are acting as sentinels and might know about our attack. If you want, I could-" Niall stopped as Magnus raised his hand, cutting him off.
"I already know. There's no need. I took care of all the guild members in this area before I summoned you out here. The storm made them drop their guard—they never noticed as they were picked off."
Niall was briefly caught off guard, but nodded a moment later.
"Of course. I should have expected nothing less from you, my Lord."
"Obviously. Now, what else?" Magnus started moving, striding past Niall, who quickly stood and followed a step behind.
"I did see a few people who didn't seem to be guild members—mostly women. They looked like they'd been hired or... forced from different places around the city to work here. As you ordered, I didn't harm any of them. I moved them all to a safe room on the first floor. When they wake up, they'll be able to leave on their own now that all of the guild members and sentries are gone."
Magnus nodded.
"Good. That just leaves the leader." He already knew where the guild leader's office was. Soon, he and Niall stopped in front of the door. Without pausing, Magnus pressed his palm against it and pushed ever so lightly, yet with absurd force. The door broke off its hinges and crashed into the office, splitting in two as it hit the wooden desk on the far side.
The office looked just like you'd expect for a guild leader—not fancy, but not lacking. Papers and documents were stacked on the desk, though some had fallen from the force of Magnus's entrance. A framed map on the right wall was covered in marks and pins, probably tracking the guild's movements across the region. Magnus only needed a glance to see how much progress they'd made.
Trade routes to distant towns and cities had already begun being restored.
"A shame. If this were a real guild, I might feel bad about tearing it apart like this with all the good they're doing," he remarked, glancing around the room. The candle-lit chandelier overhead showed that someone had been here recently, but the room was empty. There wasn't anywhere to hide, but this was definitely where the guild leader was supposed to be.
Thinking aloud, Niall asked, "Did they run? But I didn't sense anyone leaving, and I've checked almost every room except this one. I would have noticed if they escaped, my Lord."
Magnus didn't answer right away. He studied the room a little longer, his molten gaze shimmering even in the dim candlelight. Then, he let out a short laugh. Niall looked over, confused at what Magnus found amusing.
Before Niall could say anything, Magnus asked, "Tell me, Niall, are there any other rooms beyond the far wall of this one?"
Niall paused to think, then shook his head.
"No, my Lord. This room, and the ones next to it, are at the very edge of the building. Beyond the walls is just the outside."
Magnus nodded slowly and started walking forward, moving around the desk toward the wall behind it.
"In that case, why isn't there a window here?" Magnus pointed at the wall in front of him, glancing back at Niall.
"I'm sure all the other rooms you saw had windows looking out onto the street, so why not this one?" He wasn't really asking; he just wanted Niall to realize what he'd missed.
Magnus ran his fingers along the wooden wall until he found it—a barely noticeable seam in the wood, unlike anything else on the wall. Without hesitation, his fingers dug straight into the wood, and with a swing of his arm, he tore away a section, revealing metal underneath. More precisely, it was a metal door.
"A panic room. How quaint," Magnus said, sounding amused, though his smile didn't hold a hint of real interest. He turned and walked over to the swivel chair behind the desk. With a quick spin, he sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and folded his arms, signaling to Niall.
"Drag him out."
Niall dipped his head.
"Right away, my Lord."
The vampire moved toward the sealed metal door, his expression calm and unreadable. With each step, his body shifted, turning shadowy and formless, as if he were sinking into the floor itself. Vampires like him, whose real bodies were made of energy, could shed their physical shells and take on almost any shape or size they wanted given they had the energy for it. In theory, they could squeeze through spaces barely wider than a hair, limited only by the need to keep their Nexus intact so they could control their bodies.
But this wasn't a nanometer-wide crack—there was a visible slit along the edge of the door, easy to spot if you knew to look. For Niall, it was as if the door wasn't there at all. He took another step, turned completely formless, and slipped through the gap.
Magnus waited in silence. The distant sound of rain and thunder echoed through the building's walls, broken only by a sudden yell from inside the panic room, followed by the sounds of a struggle.
It was over almost instantly.
A scream rang out: "Agh, sh- shit!"
A few moments later, the heavy clicking of locks and gears echoed as the door was opened. It was obvious a lot of time and money had gone into making it—more like a vault door than anything else. But it was designed to stop normal intruders, not anything supernatural. Without runes, it couldn't hope to protect against a vampire, a knight, or a mage—let alone Magnus.
As the door swung open, Niall reappeared, and this time he wasn't empty-handed. He was dragging, half-carrying, a man with chestnut-colored hair and a roughly shaved beard. The man struggled, but it was useless. His right arm had clearly been broken, and even without that injury, escaping a vampire's grip would have been impossible for any human.
"Let go of me! Let go!" the guild leader yelled as Niall forced him to his knees in front of Magnus. That's when he finally noticed the other presence in the room—someone dressed in white, sitting in his chair, staring through a cold, smiling mask.
"And who the hell are-" He didn't finish. Niall slammed his head into the floorboards, the crack of bone loud enough to make it clear his nose was broken.
"You will address my Lord with respect, and speak only when spoken to, human."
Magnus leaned back in the chair, unfolded his arms, and motioned with his right hand for Niall to lift the man's head.
"Let's try this again. And this time, keep it civil," Magnus commented.
Niall nodded and pulled the guild leader's head up. Blood streamed from his face, his nose a mess. He coughed and groaned, but Niall forced him to look up at Magnus properly. As he did, the bleeding slowed, then stopped—a subtle display of a vampire's power over the human body. That kind of control was one of the many reasons being a vampire's Mind Slave was so terrifying; they could shape your body, your voice, even your organs, however they pleased.
In this case, with his current strength, Niall could keep the man alive and talking no matter how badly he was hurt.
"W-Who are you..." The guild leader managed, his voice still carrying a hint of defiance, though the fight had faded after being slammed into the floor.
"Not important. Not for someone like you, anyway. I haven't decided if I'll kill you or let you join the rest of your companions. But I suppose you'll need something to call me at least inside your mind." Magnus's voice, distorted by the mask, sounded like an actor putting on a show, but the cold weight behind his words was unmistakable.
He raised a finger, tapped the bottom of his mask, and thought for a second before answering.
"Abel. You can call me Abel." The guild leader, of course, searched his memory for anything familiar the moment he got the name, but came up empty.
"Now that introductions are out of the way, let's get to the real reason you're here on your knees." Magnus leaned forward, his posture shifting from relaxed to focused.
"You have information I need. I know you've been working with Nightshade for a while, and all the information I want is probably scattered throughout your memories. I'd rather not waste time digging for scraps, so here are your options. One, you answer every question honestly, and I'll let you live. You'll spend that life in jail, sure, but that's better than the second option." He watched as the guild leader gritted his teeth and scoffed.
"You know who I work for, and you still think they'd let me rot in a cell? I'd be dead—poisoned within a week, so I don't talk. I'd rather die here and now than wait for it."
Whatever sneer the guild leader had vanished when Magnus let out a noise that sounded almost confused.
"Hm? Who said anything about killing you? No, I'd simply have your subconscious eaten away." Magnus raised his arm as if expecting a bird to land on it. But what appeared wasn't a bird. Both the guild leader and Niall watched as a cold, creeping sensation swept through the room. Something rippled in the air above Magnus, twisting down until it reached his arm.
It was Basker, or at least part of his physical form. The hound's eyes glowed orange—like two distant stars in an empty void. His shape was little more than a shadowy outline, more abyss than animal.
Even Niall felt a shiver run down his spine. Basker looked both unreal and completely present, a deeply unsettling contradiction.
"You see, my hound here hasn't eaten in quite some time. I imagine your memories and dreams would be a feast once he's done digging out everything I need. And, well... I'm a very loving owner. Sometimes I let my pets do whatever they please. This won't kill you, of course. Instead, he'll forge new, false memories for you—an entire life built around serving me. It'll be your honor. After that? Maybe I'll let Niall drain you dry, or maybe you'll live out your days as one of my drones, helping me with my work. I do have a lot to do."
Magnus let out a chuckle, genuine and private, as if only he understood the joke.
The guild leader's whole body started to tremble. Real fear hit him, raw and crushing. For the first time, he felt like he was staring at a monster—a monster in white, smiling in a way that twisted every word. Whether it was the hound of shadows floating above Magnus's arm, or the fates Magnus described, it all crashed down at once, leaving him shaking to his core.
"I- I'll tell you... I'll tell you whatever you want..." He breathed, voice barely steady.
Magnus nodded, and Basker's form faded away as Magnus leaned back in his chair again.
"Good. Then tell me everything you know about Nightshade, its base of operations, and Lord Vostus. I'm sure you're familiar."