Chapter Eight: Throne of Blood and Ash
Edward followed Tula through the dark streets of London until they stopped before a tavern reeking of tobacco and cheap liquor. Tula coldly inquired about the nearest gambling den, and before entering, he presented Edward with a mysterious black mask: "Wear this, Master... it is unfitting for your face to be seen by the rabble in places like these."
They entered the den, and Tula sat at the table with an enviable coolness. The game began, and with every round, piles of gold were skillfully transferred to Tula's side. The winnings were so massive that they aroused the suspicion of everyone present. Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed through the hall; it was the casino owner, accompanied by an army of armed guards.
"You are cheating!" the owner shouted, brandishing his weapon. "Confess now, or this will be your final night."
A mocking smile appeared on Tula's face—the smile of a demon who had found exactly what he was looking for. In the blink of an eye, the place turned into a scene from hell. Tula moved with a speed that transcended human limits; it wasn't a fight, but a silent massacre. The guards fell one by one, kneeling in broken heaps. Then Tula grabbed the owner by the neck and, in cold blood, ended his life, letting his blood splatter across the room like a horrific painting.
Tula spoke in a calm voice that shook the hall's foundation: "Do you know why I did that? You disturbed my Master... and this is the penalty for anyone who dares stand in the way of the Lord of House Ferguson."
At that moment, Edward was unable to speak. He felt a hidden force preventing him from moving, as if his body had frozen in place to project the image of a steadfast nobleman unmoved by bloodshed. Terror was gnawing at his heart from the inside, but his features behind the mask suggested a terrifying serenity that made everyone present tremble with fear.
Tula continued, wiping drops of blood from his glove: "Now... this place belongs to my Master. Is there any objection?"
A deathly silence followed. No one dared to raise their eyes. Suddenly, a man stepped forward from the corner, looking more intelligent and composed than the rest, named "Silas." Silas knelt before Edward and spoke in a loyal voice: "We were weary of the old owner's tyranny, Master... If you are the new dawn for these ruins, I offer you my life and my experience in these streets."
Tula looked at the silent Edward, then turned to Silas, saying: "Very well, Silas... you shall now swear an unbreakable oath of absolute loyalty. You will manage this place in the name of House Ferguson, developing it into a tavern, an inn, and a luxury restaurant. Expand step by step, and gather the smaller gangs under your banner... I want an army of shadows taking orders only from my Master. Wait for our instructions."
Silas nodded, looking at the black mask Edward wore, feeling a majesty that made him realize this silent nobleman was no ordinary man.