Episode Fourteen: The Blood-Seal and the Broker
The abandoned shipping warehouse smelled strongly of rust and old seawater. The air was damp and freezing. Located deep in the forgotten industrial district of Oakhaven, it was a place where normal people never went. This made it the perfect temporary jail cell.
In the center of the dark warehouse, Commander Vance hung suspended by heavy steel chains. Just twelve hours ago, he was the proud, arrogant Gold-Tier master who had threatened to destroy the Valerius family. Now, he was a pathetic, broken mess. His elite armor was gone.
Thorne's Obsidian Art: First Strike had brutally shattered his meridians. Without his spiritual energy, Vance was aging fast. His body felt the crushing weight of his injuries. He coughed, spitting a mix of blood and saliva onto the concrete floor.
The heavy metal door of the warehouse screeched open. Footsteps echoed in the darkness.
Vance slowly lifted his bruised head. His eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light. Two figures stepped into his line of sight. The first was Thorne, wearing his sharp, tailored black business suit. The second man wore a simple, dusty grey sweater.
Vance blinked, his mind slow and confused. He recognized the man in the sweater.
"You, you are the Valerius family's useless son in law, Caspian." Vance let out a weak, raspy laugh. "Did they send the family dog to sweep up my blood?"
Caspian did not look angry. He simply walked forward, his hands resting casually in his pockets. He stopped just a few feet away from the chained commander. He looked at Vance with his calm, dark eyes.
"You know, Vance," Caspian said. His voice was soft and relaxed. "Most men would have killed you in the courtyard last night. You threatened my wife. You threatened my city. But the Shadow Command did not conquer the world by wasting valuable resources. And a Gold-Tier master, even a broken one, is a terrible thing to waste."
Vance's raspy laugh died instantly. His eyes widened as he stared at Caspian. He watched the way Thorne—the terrifying monster who had defeated him in a single second—stood silently and respectfully behind Caspian, like a loyal shadow waiting for a command. Then, Vance remembered the terrifying, crushing aura of the man in the Frost Jade mask.
"It's you," Vance whispered. Absolute horror froze his veins. "You, the useless husband. You are the Shadow Commander. The High King has no idea."
"And he is going to stay completely blind," Caspian said lazily. He pulled his right hand out of his pocket. Resting on his palm was a small, perfectly round pill. It was not a normal medicinal pill. It glowed with a sickening, dark crimson light. Faint, black veins seemed to pulse across its surface like a beating heart. The air around the pill felt heavy and ancient.
"What is that?" Vance asked, thrashing weakly against the heavy chains.
"This," Caspian explained patiently, "is an Abyssal Blood-Seal Pill. It is a very old, very forbidden recipe. When you swallow it, the pill will completely repair your shattered meridians in a matter of minutes. You will get your Gold-Tier power back."
Vance's eyes darted nervously between the pill and Caspian's face. "Why? Why would you heal an enemy? What is the catch?"
"The catch is the Blood-Seal," Caspian said. His lazy smile faded into a look of absolute, terrifying authority. "The pill rebuilds your core using my spiritual energy. Once you take it, your life belongs entirely to me. If I die, you die. If you try to betray me, warn the High King, or even think about disobeying an order, I can shatter your heart with a single thought from a thousand miles away. You will no longer be a commander. You will be my dog, wearing a High Regent collar."
Vance stared at the crimson pill. He was a proud warrior, but he was also terrified of death. Living as a slave in secret was far better than dying in a damp warehouse.
"I accept," Vance rasped, lowering his head in total defeat.
Caspian flicked his finger. The Abyssal Blood-Seal Pill shot into Vance's open mouth. The reaction was violent and immediate. Vance screamed in agony as the crimson energy exploded in his chest. His broken meridians snapped back together, fusing with the dark, abyssal power. The golden light of his core returned, but it was now tainted with a deep, blood red shadow. The heavy chains rattled violently as Vance flexed his newly restored muscles.
Thorne stepped forward, drawing a single obsidian blade. With two precise strikes, he cut the heavy steel chains, dropping Vance to the floor.
Vance landed on his hands and knees, panting heavily. He could feel his power fully restored. But he could also feel a terrifying, cold grip tightly wrapped around his soul. He slowly looked up at Caspian, fully understanding the massive gap between them. Without a word of hesitation, Vance pressed his forehead against the cold concrete.
"Awaiting your orders, Commander," Vance said. His voice was entirely stripped of its former arrogance.
"Go back to the Capital," Caspian ordered smoothly. "Tell the High King that your troops were ambushed by a massive, unknown mercenary group, and you were the only survivor. Keep your ears open and your mouth shut. When I need the High Regents' military secrets, you will deliver them to me. Now get out of my sight."
Vance stood up, bowed deeply, and vanished into the shadows of the warehouse. He moved with the speed of a restored master. He was now the first piece of Caspian's new, secret army inside the enemy's walls.
"Brilliant play, sir," Thorne said quietly.
"We need eyes in the Capital," Caspian replied, brushing some dust off his sweater. "Now, we have a more pressing issue. The Midnight Lotus Pavilion opens in two hours, and I need the Frost-Soul Lotus to fix my own core. Has Bastian arrived?"
"He has been waiting outside for ten minutes, sir," Thorne said, gesturing toward the warehouse exit.
Caspian and Thorne walked out into the foggy morning air. Parked quietly in the alleyway was a hyper luxurious, completely blacked out stealth vehicle that cost more than most city blocks. Standing gracefully next to the passenger door was a man wearing a perfectly tailored, midnight blue suit. He had sharp, calculating eyes behind silver rimmed glasses and a polite, constant smile that hid a ruthless mind.
This was Bastian, the Shadow Broker. He was the absolute master of the Obsidian Vault, controlling the endless wealth of the Shadow Command across the globe.
"Commander," Bastian said, bowing at a perfect forty five degree angle. "It is a profound honor to see you alive. The financial sector has been fully mobilized."
"Good work on the Sterling Group this morning, Bastian," Caspian said, leaning against the brick wall. "Julian Sterling thought he could buy my family. How fast did you break them?"
Bastian pushed his silver glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Two minutes and forty two seconds, sir. We initiated a hostile takeover of their eastern supply lines, bought all of their outstanding debts, and froze their international assets. The Sterling family is currently begging local banks for loans just to buy groceries."
"Good," Caspian said with a small laugh. "I need your help with the auction tonight."
Bastian reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small, heavy rectangular card. It was made of pure, solid black obsidian. A terrifying, roaring dragon was carved into the center using crushed diamonds.
"The Obsidian Dragon Card, sir," Bastian said, presenting it to Caspian with both hands. "There are only three of these in existence. It is tied directly to the master vault. It has no spending limit. If you wish to buy the Frost-Soul Lotus, you can buy it. If you wish to buy the entire auction house, the building, and the block it sits on, you can buy that too."
Caspian took the heavy card and slipped it casually into the pocket of his cheap, faded grey trousers. "Perfect. I am going in alone. Keep Thorne close and secure the perimeter."
Two hours later, the Midnight Lotus Pavilion was buzzing with activity. Located deep underground beneath Oakhaven's financial district, the auction house was a place where the elite billionaires, powerful Sect leaders, and corrupt politicians gathered to buy things that were too rare or too illegal for the surface world.
The main hall was dripping in gold and crystal chandeliers. Waiters in silk uniforms carried trays of expensive spirit wine.
Near the front row, Lord Valerius and Silas were standing awkwardly. They were trying desperately to network and shake hands with the other wealthy families, trying to prove that the Valerius family was not bankrupt after the attack.
Silas was holding a glass of wine, bragging loudly to a group of minor merchants. "Yes, yes, the attack was fierce, but I personally held the front line! The Shadow Commander only arrived because my tactical genius gave him an opening! It takes a strong mind to stall a Gold-Tier master!"
Just as Silas was soaking in the fake praise, he looked toward the grand entrance. Walking down the velvet staircase, looking completely out of place among the silk gowns and million dollar suits, was Caspian. He was still wearing his simple grey sweater and faded trousers.
Silas's heart skipped a beat. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. The old Silas would have marched over and screamed at Caspian for being an embarrassment. But the new Silas remembered the terrifying way Caspian had looked at him that morning. He remembered the unexplainable destruction of the Sterling Group. Silas knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Caspian was a martial arts monster who could snap his neck with two fingers.
Silas quickly excused himself from the merchants. He plastered a painfully polite, nervous smile on his face. He practically jogged over to Caspian.
"Brother in law!" Silas whispered urgently, gently and respectfully touching Caspian's arm to guide him behind a large marble pillar, completely out of sight from the crowd. "Thank the heavens you made it. But... Caspian, please, you have to help me out here."
Caspian raised an eyebrow. A lazy, amused smile played on his lips. "Help you out, Silas? I just got here. I haven't even had a mint yet."
"I know, I know," Silas stammered, pulling at his expensive collar because he suddenly felt very hot. "Look, I know you are incredibly skilled martially. You are a powerhouse. I respect that, I really do! But this... this is a high society business event. We desperately need a loan from these people to fix the tower."
"And my sweater is ruining your credit score?" Caspian teased smoothly.
Silas let out a nervous little laugh, looking around frantically. "You know how these snobs are! Most of the people in this room still think you are... well, you know. They still think you are the old Caspian. The useless one. If they see you dressed like this, they will laugh at the Valerius family, and they won't give us the loan."
Silas pressed his hands together in a pleading motion. "And besides... I may have exaggerated a tiny bit to those merchants over there. I told them I was the one who bravely held off Commander Vance last night."
Caspian chuckled softly. "Ah. Tactical bragging. A very advanced technique."
"Exactly!" Silas whispered, his face flushing red. "Please, Caspian. As your brother in law, I am politely asking you... don't make a scene tonight. Don't show off. Let me handle the business side, and you can just enjoy the free food in the back row. Please?"
Caspian looked at Silas's sweating, terrified face and felt a wave of deep amusement. It was far more entertaining to watch Silas squirm politely than to listen to him yell.
"Relax, Silas," Caspian said, patting Silas firmly on the shoulder. This made Silas flinch slightly. "I am just here to buy one specific medicinal herb. I will sit in the back. I won't ruin your brilliant reputation as the savior of Oakhaven."
Silas let out a massive sigh of relief, wiping his forehead with a silk handkerchief. "Thank you. Thank you, Caspian. You are a true gentleman. Right this way, the back row is very comfortable!"
Silas quickly escorted Caspian down the side aisle, making sure he was seated in the shadows near the back, far away from the elite bidders. Silas then rushed back to the front, feeling like he had just safely disarmed a live bomb.
Caspian settled into his chair, enjoying the quiet. However, his peace did not last long.
"Well, well. Look what the rats dragged in from the street."
Caspian did not even turn his head. He recognized the annoying, nasal voice immediately. Walking down the aisle with two heavily armed bodyguards was Desmond Caldwell, the arrogant heir to the Caldwell Trade Union. The Caldwells had always been fierce rivals of the Valerius family, and Desmond despised Caspian.
Desmond stopped next to Caspian's row, looking down at the grey sweater with absolute disgust. Desmond was completely unaware of the events of the morning or the reality of Caspian's power. He saw only a target for his cruel jokes.
"I heard the Valerius Tower was smashed to pieces last night," Desmond sneered loudly, drawing the attention of a few nearby nobles. "I guess Lord Valerius is so broke he has to send his trash son in law to beg for leftover spirit stones. Tell me, Caspian, did they make you walk here, or did you ride a garbage truck?"
A few of the merchants nearby chuckled at the insult.
Caspian leaned back, crossing his legs casually. He looked up at Desmond with calm, bored eyes. "I walked, Desmond. The fresh air is good for the soul. You should try it sometime, it might clear that awful smell you carry around."
Desmond's face flushed red with instant anger. "You dare speak back to me, you useless piece of garbage? You don't even belong in this building! The cheapest item on that stage tonight is worth a million stones. You couldn't afford to buy a wooden toothpick in this room!"
Up in the front row, Silas heard the commotion. He turned around and saw Desmond yelling at Caspian. Silas's eyes widened in sheer panic. He knew Desmond was an idiot, but if Caspian got angry and decided to murder the Caldwell heir right here in the auction house, the Valerius family would be blamed for the bloodbath.
Silas quickly abandoned his conversation and rushed to the back row, placing himself awkwardly between Desmond and Caspian.
"Young Master Caldwell! Desmond, my good friend!" Silas said loudly, forcing a wide, nervous smile as he held his hands up to play peacekeeper. "There is no need for this! We are all civilized businessmen here."
"Silas!" Desmond scoffed, pointing a finger at Caspian. "Control your family's stray dog! He is polluting the air in the Pavilion! Why did you even bring this broke loser to a VIP auction?"
Silas swallowed hard. He wanted to agree with Desmond to save face, but he could feel Caspian's calm, dark eyes resting on the back of his neck. Silas chose his own survival over his pride.
"Caspian is, he is here as an observer," Silas said quickly. His voice was tight. "He is family. Let us just focus on the auction, Desmond. I hear the first item is quite spectacular."
Desmond looked at Silas in confusion. Normally, Silas was the first person to join in on insulting Caspian. But Desmond shrugged it off, adjusting his expensive jacket. "Fine. But keep him quiet. If he bids on so much as a napkin, I will personally throw him out." Desmond sneered at Caspian one last time before walking to his VIP seat in the front.
Silas let out a shaky breath and looked back at Caspian. "I handled it. Just, just stay quiet, okay?" Silas whispered, before jogging back to the front.
Caspian smiled lazily to himself. The stage was perfectly set.
The lights in the grand hall slowly dimmed. The crowd grew silent as the head auctioneer, an old man wearing a brilliant purple robe, stepped up to the podium.
"Welcome, esteemed guests, to the Midnight Lotus Pavilion," the auctioneer announced. His voice was magically amplified. "Tonight, we have items that will shake the heavens. For our main event, we are proud to present an item of legendary healing properties, the thousand year Frost-Soul Lotus!"
Caspian's eyes sharpened. His hand rested comfortably in his pocket. His fingers brushed against the cold, heavy edge of the Obsidian Dragon Card.
The outsiders had done their mocking. The arrogant rivals had spoken their piece. Now, it was time for the Shadow Commander to show Oakhaven what true, absolute wealth looked like.