[Double Release for today and the length is almost twice as my nomal chapter.]
[But I want you all to support the book: Legacy of Harry Potter by Night_Writer. And why I am asking for support? Well, it is the first book I was involded into any manner.
I did not write it technically but when it was written for the first time, I was involved a lot in its story. A few of its key plots were proposed by me. I had been a complete amateur at that time but when the book was done both of us were quite pleased.I will never be the author of that book but it would always be special for me. Go check it out and add it to your collection and help in increasing its reach.]
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It was midnight. The entire city of Myr was asleep, or tossing and turning in their beds, wondering what the rising sun might bring with it. But even at midnight and in the darkness of the night, certain people remained wide awake.
Not only were they awake, but they were also extremely alert. A sense of tension, anxiety, and a rush of adrenaline was coursing through their bodies all at once.
A very important task and a significant responsibility lay ahead of them and though they were confident in accomplishing their mission, the slight factor of uncertainty and the nervousness it brought always remained.
This group of people were not particularly important, significant, or socially respected figures with heavy positions and responsibilities. The majority of them were servants, guards, domestic workers, or, at best, administrative staff employed within the households of the various Magisters.
And what was the common factor between them? All of them were the planted spies of Lord Aeos. Initially, only one or two people had been able to infiltrate the circles of the Magisters and land a job in their households or estates.
But then, slowly, their connections grew, and more and more people were employed in the service of the Magisters. Later, Florosol, using the influence of the four traitorous Magisters, was able to push even more people into the service of the other Magisters and into the specific roles they sought.
It would be safe to assume that every Magister household in the city of Myr had around twenty-five to thirty of Lord Aeos's spies infiltrating their mansions.
And tonight was the night when they were going to accomplish the task for which they had been trained.
In the household of a certain Magister, twenty-six men had gathered in the kitchen. A single torch, strapped on the kitchen wall, was the only source of illumination in the massive room. They could hardly see one another's faces. However, the same black coloured robes and the headgear tied around their heads made them recognizable to each other.
It had been one of the first houses to be infiltrated. The first man had landed a job as a cook in the kitchen. Slowly, he had hired more men to serve as his subordinates, and then more were added to various other household roles. In this manner, their number had reached twenty-six.
Marlton, a large, bulky man, was that cook and also their leader.
"I believe that everyone is clear on our plans?" he questioned, his tone barely above a whisper.
The rest of the men only nodded. Although their faces were not clearly visible, Marlton could tell that his men were fully resolved and committed to the fight.
"Great," he said. "Remember, no matter the situation, you cannot become emotional. Though the plan is almost foolproof and there is little chance for any of us to actually die, anything could happen. In such a situation, the most important task for us is to attain our goal. Even if only a single one among us lives, we must complete the task."
"Is everyone ready?" he questioned, and his men nodded once again.
"Good," Marlton said. "Follow me."
All of these men were barefoot so as not to make a sound. Marlton was the first to exit the kitchen. He was the only man holding a torch in his hand.
Only after he had moved some distance away did the second man emerge, followed by the third and then the rest. Even though the destination for all these men was the same, they were not moving in a group. If caught, they would have no explanation, and even a single sound could cause chaos and commotion.
The distance between the Magister's room and the kitchen was not very long, and Marlton was quick on his feet as he moved through the corridors of the mansion.
"Who is it?" Marlton finally encountered a couple of guards. It was not that he had not been expecting them. Ever since, he had started working here, he had studied and observed, every nook and cranny the guards were placed.
"It is me, Marlton, the cook," he responded, closing the distance between himself and the guards.
"The cook?" The guard frowned as his hand shifted toward the hilt of his sword. "Why are you awake at this hour, and what are you doing here?"
"Ah!" Marlton sighed defeatedly. "I am just nervous and afraid. You know about what will happen tomorrow."
The guard did not look entirely convinced by the answer, but since Marlton was alone, he remained patient. He was about to open his mouth to inquire further when there was a whooshing sound. Two arrows came flying and struck both guards in the throat. No screams erupted from their lips. They merely clenched their throats and fell to the ground with a thud after a brief struggle.
Marlton smiled as two of his men emerged from the darkness at the corner of the corridor. It was hard for them to take aim in the shadows, but with Marlton carrying the torch, the task had become much easier. The men moved quickly, dumping the bodies into the darkness below the corridor where they would not be discovered, before moving forward.
Marlton and his men encountered eight more guards before reaching the Magister's room. Fortunately, they were able to kill all of them quietly through various methods. Marlton had killed one particular guard by shoving a flaming torch into his throat to stop him from making a sound, after the guard had somehow deflected the surprise blade attack launched by one of Marlton's men. It had been a narrow escape. Nonetheless, they had been successful in reaching the room.
Now, the door was locked. There was no way they could enter quickly without making a sound. To reach the Magister, they had only one option. Lure him out.
While all his men remained hidden, Marlton knocked on the door. It was nearly a pounding, and it would surely reach the ears of any guards stationed nearby. But Marlton was betting on the Magister being quicker to react.
"Magister!" he called. "There is an emergency!"
This was the riskiest part of his plan, and later, Marlton would learn that his group was the most fortunate in all of Myr. Every other group apart from his had somehow lost a few men repelling the few guards that reached them before the Magisters were killed.
His fortune was the strongest among them all. Because of his great luck, the Magister opened the door before any more guards arrived.
"What is it?" The words had barely left the Magister's mouth when Marlton plunged a dagger into his throat. A gurgle of blood erupted from his neck as his body staggered backward and collapsed.
"Ahhh!" A loud scream erupted from inside the room. It was the Magister's wife.
But Marlton paid no heed to any of this. His work was done.
"Run!" he shouted. "Everyone takes different paths!"
Escaping was not a difficult task, as their routes had been mapped out long ago. A couple of their men were already waiting with ladders and ropes to help them scale the walls. They simply had to escape the mansion and then survive the night, hidden in some dark corner of the city.
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In another part of the city, a Magister had decided to spend the night in a brothel. There was one particular prostitute whom he enjoyed greatly, and he wanted to spend one last night with her before everything spiraled downward.
"Gelia," he called out to the lady sitting in front of him on the bed as he began unstrapping his clothes. "You know, there is only one single benefit I could think of from this rise of Lord Aeos."
"That a whore like you had to leave Astapor and come to Myr," he laughed.
The woman called Gelia smiled. Barely.
"Why are you acting so slowly today?" the Magister asked, finally having finished with his upper body clothes. "Remove your garments."
Gelia nodded and stood up. The Magister tilted his head slightly to pull off his pants when Gelia was suddenly upon him. She had pulled a long dagger from behind her clothes and pierced his neck, driving it all the way through until it emerged from his throat. Meanwhile, with her free hand, she clamped his mouth shut.
Blood gurgled from the wound, flowing all over her hand. The Magister tried to struggle, thrash, and pull free, but eventually, he collapsed. Gelia was strong enough to hold off a dying Magister.
As Gelia looked down at her blood-soaked hand, horror took hold. This was the first time she had killed someone, and she felt herself becoming nauseous. Even so, she did not lose her calm. She had known that this moment would come and had prepared for this.
She wiped her hands clean with a piece of cloth and then pulled a rope from her cupboard. The Magister's guards would be just outside the room, and hearing no sound, they might soon realize the situation.
She tied one end of the rope to a heavy iron nail driven into the wall of the room and threw the other end out of the window.
At last, climbing down the rope was something she had already practiced. Agile and swift, Gelia climbed down and then vanished into the darkness.
Unlike the rest of the spies who would be hiding on the streets, a safehouse was waiting for her where she could spend the night worry free.
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