Chapter 34: The Lord of Blackwood
While the Grey family celebrated their survival with laughter and warm food, the atmosphere inside the Blackwood Estate was heavy enough to crush a man.
Screams echoed from the master bedroom.
"Gah! Gentle! You call yourself a healer?! It feels like my bones are grinding together!"
Garret Blackwood lay on the silk sheets, his body a ruin. His left leg was hoisted up in a sling, his ribs were wrapped tight enough to restrict his breathing, and his face was a swollen map of purple and blue bruises.
The Taser—Asher's "toy"—had done more than just shock him. The fall from the convulsing muscles had snapped three ribs and shattered his shin.
A robed mage stood by the bedside, sweating nervously. Green light glowed from his hands, hovering over Garret's chest, but the healing was agonizingly slow.
"I am trying, Young Lord," the mage stammered. "But the damage... it's not magical. It's purely physical trauma. And the nerves... they are still twitching from the lightning residue. It will take a month for him to walk again."
"A month?!" Garret shrieked, then choked on a cough. "I want them dead! Father! Send the knights! Burn their house down!"
"Silence."
The single word cut through the room like a blade.
Standing by the window, staring out at the darkening city, was Lord Silas Blackwood.
He was a tall man with streaks of grey in his black hair and eyes that looked like cold steel. He didn't look at his screaming son. He looked at the horizon.
"Get out," Silas ordered the mage. "Let him rest."
The mage bowed and fled the room. Silas turned to look at the broken form of his heir. There was no pity in his eyes, only calculation.
"You failed, Garret. You took a squad of trained guards to bully a cripple and a failed mage, and you came back in a stretcher."
"They... they cheated!" Garret wheezed. "That boy... Asher... he used some demon magic! A stick that summons lightning!"
"It wasn't magic," Silas said coldly. "It was an artifact. A weapon we haven't seen before."
Silas walked over to his desk and picked up a report. His hands trembled slightly—not from fear of Asher, but from fear of what was coming.
"The Beast Tide is coming, Garret," Silas whispered. " The diviners say it will hit Silvercross within two weeks. A massive wave of monsters from the Dark Forest."
Garret went silent. Even in his pain, he knew what that meant. The last Beast Tide wiped out half the city.
"We don't have enough mages," Silas continued, his voice tight. "The City Lord is useless. Our guards are average. If the Tide hits us now, Blackwood Estate will fall."
He looked down at his son.
"I thought we could crush the Greys and take their resources. But I was wrong. If Asher has weapons that can take down you without using mana... then he is not prey."
Silas's eyes narrowed.
"He is an asset."
He rang a small bell on his desk.
Immediately, a shadow moved in the corner. His secretary, a sharp-faced man named Vane, stepped forward.
"My Lord?"
"Forget the retaliation," Silas commanded. "We cannot afford a war with a chaotic element like Asher right now. Not with the Beast Tide approaching. We need their strength."
"You want to... recruit them again?" Vane asked, surprised.
"No," Silas corrected. "I want to ally with them. Force failed. Now, we use diplomacy."
He pulled out a piece of expensive parchment and dipped his quill in ink. He wrote quickly, stamped it with the Blackwood wax seal, and handed it to Vane.
"Go to the Grey residence. Give this to Lucas Grey personally."
Vane looked at the letter.
[Invitation to Dinner at Blackwood Estate - A Discussion on the City's Survival]
"Be polite," Silas warned, his eyes dangerous. "If they refuse, beg if you have to. But get them to this table. If we don't unite Silvercross before the monsters arrive... we are all dead men."