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Chapter 121: A Pact with a Monster
Chapter 121: A Pact with a Monster
A Council Gripped by Fear
The air in the Ivory Tower’s council chamber was thick with uncertainty. Candlelight flickered against the stone walls, casting eerie, elongated shadows across the long wooden table where the most powerful conspirators sat. The silence that followed their last discussion was heavier than ever.
For the first time, they feared their own mortality.
They had once ruled from the shadows, controlling assassins and mercenaries like puppets. Now, they were the ones being hunted.
Duke Vaelin sat rigid, his gloved fingers tapping slowly against the table in a rhythmic motion, the only sound in the otherwise dead-quiet room. His face was pale, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Lord Belvane exhaled, his golden-etched mask concealing the doubt in his expression.
And then—
A voice cut through the stillness.
“How about Allen?”
The question was casual, yet it sent a ripple of unease through the room.
Every head turned toward Baron Elwick, the youngest noble present. His face was calm, his hands folded before him as if he had just suggested hiring a mere mercenary.
But the room knew better.
Lord Edric Hale leaned forward, his hawk-like eyes narrowing. “Allen?”
Elwick nodded once. “Allen the Cannibal.”
A Name That Should Never Be Spoken
The mere utterance of that name froze the air.
The Ivory Tower had contacted many killers before. Assassins, mercenaries, spies—but Allen was different.
Allen was not a man they hired.
Allen was a monster.
The kind of beast that even the most ruthless criminals avoided.
Duke Vaelin’s fingers stilled. “You’re suggesting we bring in a… mad dog?”
Baron Elwick tilted his head slightly. “Is that not what we need?”
No one spoke.
Elwick took this as an invitation to continue.
“Seraphis is a specter of death, an executioner. But what if we sent something after her that is even worse?”**
Lord Belvane’s voice was low, even. “You mean a creature of nightmare to hunt a reaper?”
Elwick smiled. “Exactly.”
Who is Allen the Cannibal?
Duke Vaelin scowled. “You do realize who Allen is, don’t you?”
Elwick’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know.”
But Vaelin wasn’t convinced.
His hands clenched into fists as he leaned forward. “Then tell me, Baron—do you know how he kills?”
Elwick’s expression remained unreadable. But others in the room shifted uncomfortably.
Lord Edric’s voice was quiet. “He doesn’t just kill.”
Vaelin’s lips curled in disgust. “He eats them.”
A heavy silence.
Elwick nodded, completely unfazed. “And that is why he will work.”
The Horror of Allen the Cannibal
There were many assassins in the underworld.
Killers who struck quickly. Others who played with their prey. Some that made deaths look like accidents.
But Allen…
Allen did not just kill his targets.
He consumed them.
There were stories—horrible, whispered stories.
About the Screaming Banquet.
About the Hunter’s Feast.
About how he had once wiped out an entire noble family—not simply by killing them, but by methodically butchering them and devouring their bodies piece by piece.
Rumors claimed that when he feasted on his victims, he took something from them.
Strength. Skill. Even memories.
Duke Vaelin’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table. “That… thing isn’t a man.”
Elwick smirked. “And that is exactly why Seraphis won’t expect him.”
A Desperate Deal
Lord Belvane broke his silence.
His voice was eerily calm. “And how, exactly, do you propose we contact Allen?”
Elwick reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a small black coin.
The moment it hit the table, several members recoiled.
It was marked with deep crimson etchings—a symbol that looked disturbingly like gnashing teeth.
Elwick’s voice was syrupy-smooth as he slid the coin across the table.
“Allen doesn’t take contracts through words. He takes them through offerings.”
Lord Edric’s jaw tightened. “And the price?”
Elwick shrugged.
“A human sacrifice.”
Several council members exchanged uneasy looks.
Baron Elwick smirked. “Come now. Surely one of you has a useless pawn or two?”
Sealing the Pact
Lord Belvane, for the first time, allowed a small, thin smile.
He reached into his sleeve, retrieving a small parchment. He placed it beside the coin.
“We have a name.”
Elwick’s eyes gleamed. “Who?”
Belvane’s smile did not waver. “A traitor within our ranks. Someone who has outlived their usefulness.”
Edric Hale’s expression darkened. “And this will be enough?”
Elwick chuckled.
“For Allen? It’s a feast.”
The Cannibal’s Hunt Begins
The moment the decision was made, the room seemed darker.
A chill ran through the council chamber, as if some unseen force had just stirred.
Duke Vaelin exhaled sharply, his grip tightening.
“Then it’s done.”
Elwick smiled. “Yes. The Executioner thinks she is the hunter.”
His fingers traced the coin.
“But let’s see how she fares when she becomes the hunted.”
In the Depths of the World…
Somewhere, far from the Ivory Tower—
A man sat in a room drenched in red.
The walls were lined with bones.
The air was thick with the scent of old blood.
He lifted his head, pale lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
And then—
A single black coin landed before him.
He picked it up with slow, deliberate fingers.
A deep, guttural chuckle rumbled in his throat.
“Finally.”
His voice was thick, laced with anticipation.
“Something worth eating.”