Chapter 61: Blood Moon is really reliable
The blood of Wade spurted out in regular bursts. In a last desperate gesture, Wade tried to throw a punch with his left hand, but Andromeda dodged the attack with a simple tilt of her head. She took advantage of the opening to brutally drive the tip of her blade directly into his right eye. The cold iron pierced the eyeball and sank all the way to the brain, instantly ending his screams.
Wade BlackFire collapsed to the floor, his inert body lying in a pool of blood.
Andromeda remained motionless for a moment, cleaning her blade on the tunic of his corpse before sheathing it. She observed the carnage one last time, her ruby eyes showing no trace of emotion or regret, then she melted into the shadows of the night.
A few minutes later, the domain guards came running, alerted by the sudden silence that had followed the roar of the flames. The sight that awaited them froze them in place. Their master, Lord Wade, was lying dead, his face disfigured and his body atrociously mutilated. The assassin, for his part, had already vanished, leaving behind only the smell of blood.
...
Lord BlackFire would never lay his hand on a servant again. The Magic Clan was in turmoil, but no one would ever be able to link this assassination to Blood Moon. She had acted with perfect discretion, leaving no trace.
A few hours later, she pushed open the dilapidated door of the bar that served as a cover for the Shadow clan’s base. The place was almost empty at this late hour, only one drunk customer was sleeping with his head on the counter. The bartender looked up when he saw her, then immediately lowered his head in recognition. He indicated the hallway leading to the private quarters.
Andromeda went in, then entered without waiting for a response.
Gurn was sitting on his couch, a cigar in his hand. He was alone this time, his female companions absent. He looked up when he saw Andromeda and a smile stretched his lips.
"The problem has been solved, old pig," declared Andromeda as she sat down in the armchair facing him.
She took a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it, taking a long puff before letting the smoke escape slowly from her lips. "Now, you must answer my questions."
"Well, Blood Moon is really reliable, that was fast. The Painter is truly a remarkable master..."
Andromeda narrowed her eyes, a detail having caught her attention. She leaned slightly forward, her piercing gaze fixing Gurn’s. "You said ’The Painter’ instead of ’The Paintess’... You seem to be sure that he is male."
Gurn raised an eyebrow. "If you use that as one of your five questions, I’m afraid I will disappoint you. How could I have information on The Painter when even his two closest works do not know it?"
Andromeda’s blade sprang from her sleeve and rested against Gurn’s throat before he could blink. The sharp tip brushed his skin, a light but threatening pressure. "This is the last time you speak to me that way," she said in an icy voice.
Gurn did not seem particularly frightened. He laughed softly, his hands raised in a sign of surrender. "Ahaha, well... Sorry. My boss likes it when I call him that."
Andromeda withdrew her blade, sheathing it in a fluid movement. "Vamp is just crazy. He has always been obsessed with our master..." She took another puff from her cigarette.
"Anyway...I want the identity of The Midnight Star."
Gurn sighed: "The Midnight Star... Your requests are not simple."
"Old pig, I am in a bad enough mood."
"Well, well," said Gurn while raising his hands. He took a long puff from his cigar before beginning his story. "The Midnight Star is known to be a legendary figure from the era of the Armageddon. She was born during a mystical rain that lasted forty-nine days and forty-nine nights, finally bringing this energy into our world."
Andromeda listened attentively, even though she knew a bit of this story.
"About two hundred years ago, at the birth of Agath Daeth," continued Gurn, "her predecessor had read in the Oracle that if she remained a virgin, she would give birth to the light that would shine in the darkness. And indeed, years later, Agath Daeth gave birth to a blind daughter, Luci’El."
"The few people who were able to catch a glimpse of her, before Agath isolated her from the rest of the world, recounted that they had never felt such enormous chi emanating from a newborn. An energy so colossal that some said it could rival that of the Masters. Luci’El Daeth is therefore the new The Midnight Star destined to confront the bearer of the mark of the beast."
Andromeda remained silent. Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought about what this meant. ’So that’s why my master wants to kill Luci’El?’ she wondered. ’Does he have the bearer of the mark of the beast?’
"And the mark of the beast?" she asked finally.
Gurn shrugged, a grave expression on his face. "It is true that the birth of Luci’El means there would be darkness for her to shine. The Midnight Star is inseparable from the bearer of the mark of the beast. They are two sides of the same coin." He looked at her intensely. "But for now, no one knows his identity."
Andromeda tilted her head, her fingers drumming on her knees. ’I see... So Daemon probably has nothing to do with this,’ she thought.
’But why did he have that reaction? It was some kind of transformation into an Eater? His father was known to be a powerful chi user who had reached the fifth sense. But no one has ever questioned about his mother.’
She raised her eyes toward Gurn. "By any chance, would you know any info about Persephone’s past?"
Gurn’s eyes widened, and his face drained of all color. He raised his hands hastily. "Then I stop you right there, Blood Moon. You want to destroy the Shadow Clan!?"
Andromeda narrowed her eyes, disconcerted by his sudden reaction. "What do you mean?"
Gurn leaned forward, his voice now low and trembling. "The last entity that had anything to do with her past, they were massacred. Lord Vamp specified never to search her past. You should do the same... "
He sighed then added in an even graver voice: "Your entire tribe has already paid the price.... If she knew there was a survivor, you would not survive the week."
Andromeda felt a cold shiver run down her back. She suddenly remembered the faces of the members of her tribe torn apart by the explosion.
"She is that dangerous?"
Gurn slowly shook his head, his fingers nervously playing with his cigar. "Ask Roland Strain," he replied simply.
"The late patriarch of the Spear Clan?"
"Yes," confirmed Gurn while nodding. "And avoid ending up like him."