Chapter Fifty-two: Beasts in heat.

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~~~Third Person, Tenth Moon, 276 AC~~~

~~~High Zone, Xandar~~~

~~~Hours before the event at the Academy~~~

The man had been in the new city for five days, camouflaging himself and going into the sectors less protected by the witches, not getting too close to the smithies, the shipyards, the mines, the Arcane Center, the Academy, much less Ischyros. 

Years of training had made him one of the best assassins in the House of Black and White, which was why he was chosen for the important task of going deep into Xandar and attempting to assassinate the king. 

And while he had not decided to approach such places for the time being, it was a matter of time, for even if his death was the end of his mission, he would embrace it so long as he finished his purpose. 

"Is no one ready?" the man asked a woman walking beside him through the streets of the High Zone. The woman, dressed in silken robes and smelling of perfume, was holding the arm of her friend no one, who wore Xandarian robes. 

They were walking in such a way that anyone who saw them would determine that they were a wealthy couple walking on the sidewalk. Oblivious to the danger that both people represented. 

"Can you feel it?" The'man' asked the 'woman' next to him, as they both looked at the monster of a castle that was called Ischyros. 

The woman did not take her eyes off Ischyrós at any time, with an emotionless countenance reflected on her face, and with a monotone reply to her companion, "Yes, a network of energies never seen before, not since the long night millennia ago, plus great sources of magic within the castle, those same energies surround the entire perimeter." 

"Then the counsels and words of the God of The Many Faces are true, as they have always been, enemy beings of life itself, coming from other planes." 

Both had a task, given to them by the God Of Many Faces himself, to learn more about the being who led the hordes brought from the other plane, while at the same time assassinating him if they had the opportunity. 

They maintained order in the world, and with their millennial order charged with protecting the interests of their God, they were subjected to dealing with beings who used the gifts of their God for their convenience, as well as helping the souls of the damned of this world to reach HIM. And at times, they also went to places unexplored by man to exterminate beings that would steal their God's dominion. 

It was here that Azrael entered the equation. When summoning some villager or witch from Minecraft, something that he had not used much since doing so had been bringing him occasional health complications and memory loss. 

Even so, he did it several times, enough to make a difference. What he did not know was that all the villagers or witches he brought to this world, did not bring souls; their souls had remained in the Nether at the time of death, and in the case that Azrael summoned them, only a body would be 'created' in this world, at the same time that the memories, attitudes and what made up that villager entered that body, but never their souls arrived. 

This caused the interest of several gods who held some control in death to become interested in Azrael, and one of them, and perhaps the most powerful and ancient, the God of Many Faces, was the most affected by it, since the 'order' that existed, had been broken the moment Azrael summoned Maicol several moons ago. 

"It's time; we have waited a long time," the 'man' said to the 'woman' who accompanied him, and then they both started walking toward the castle. 

The place where they were, was close to the area accessible to all, that is, the bank area and the chancellery office. 

These sectors, huge in themselves, were open to the public, but that did not mean that they were not guarded by thousands of soldiers at every corner. So without arousing suspicion, they both walked to a certain part, where they were very close to the restricted area. 

Already there, they both nodded, and as they walked, they passed by a huge column, but on the other side, they were no longer seen; instead, they both climbed up the wall. Once there, they began to climb until they reached one of the upper floors. 

The whole process took only four seconds, a record time to climb more than ten meters. There, magically, their clothing and faces changed, opting to look like two middle-aged men dressed in boiled black leather pants and vests. 

"The magic in these walls is enormous; it is much stronger than that felt in the Arcane Center," commented one of the two men, showing for the first time a micro-expression on his face, complemented by the touch the man-made to the wall. 

"Mm-hmm" let out a small guttural sound from his throat. The man, after touching the wall, smiled maniacally. "It's amazing," he said, feeling the smooth texture of the wall and loving the sensation—not that he was that way because of the wall, but because of what the wall brought, and that was that after moons of having hundreds of witches and thousands of Enderman pass through said corridors, it had caused the castle itself to feed off of the energy that said beings constantly released. 

This had caused the beings sentient to the higher energies to be enraptured by them, if not also functioned as a net to detect any person or being entering the private part of the castle without authorization, something the Faceless Men did not yet know, but which they soon learned of when a black shadow with purple auroras appeared in the corridor where the two of them were. 

"They have found no one," one of the two said as he retreated from the hallway and began to move at full speed through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle. 

For ten minutes, the two men exchanged paths and took alternate routes, lost in the confines of Ischyros, unable to reach a known location or an opening where they could escape. 

It was as if the castle itself knew of their presence and made their work more difficult; even so, their behavior did not change; both continued walking and outwitting the guards patrolling Ischyros, without engaging in combat with any of them, due to possible confrontations they might have with the famous witches of the Arcane Center. 

However, their luck ran out when turning a corner. Both men had to stop when, at the other end of the corridor, stood a witch, clad in black and gold armor, who held a glowing whip. 

The witch walked slowly, dragging the whip across the floor as it made fleeting sounds, like hot metal in cold water. 

"They're a long way from home," Valery, whom the two faceless men had encountered, commented in a sweet, muffled tone of voice, looking down the hallway 'alone' in front of her. 

Valery, one of the witches charged with the protection of Ischyros, is an Alpha member of the witches' group, which consists of four groups: Omega, Alpha, Beta, and Gamma. Each focused on a technical aspect inside and outside Xandar. 

For example, Gama was the one who specialized in providing potions for the army, authorized personnel, and the one in charge of taking care of and maintaining the creatures that were needed as ingredients for potions, at the same time that they were dedicated to teaching their arts to the people of Xandar that showed certain aptitude towards the arcane. 

The second was Beta, the one who positioned and moved along with the legions, either those belonging to the Imperishable Horde stationed in the Dothraki Sea or New Ghis, or the Unsullied Legions located in Old Ghis and Lhazar. 

Alpha was in charge of the protection of all Xandar; they had no superior; only Azrael commanded them, in charge of ensuring that Xandar was not the victim of attacks by those with gifts in magic and sorcery. Finally, Omega was the group that was always and at all times with Azrael; they were his shadow, they accompanied him at all times, and they were the most powerful witches that Xandar could offer.

And now, an Alpha was having a bit of fun, hunting down two Ischyros infiltrators who possessed a small glimmer of unknown magic. 

"I do not know what your purpose is on Xandar, nor do I know what you want from our king, but I warn you, your failure to surrender by your hand will make your situation worse than if you surrender without a fight." As if it had been a trigger, the two faceless men appeared, dropping from the vaulted ceiling and ending up one at each end of the hallway, Valery standing right in the middle of the two of them. 

"Manners," Valery began to say, as her whip, which had dulled its multicolored glow, flared again, "make the man." Immediately, Valery took the handle of her whip and swung it in such a way that it made a horizontal parabola, spanning a line to the front of her. 

Seeing the attack, the faceless man did not defend himself, but in an amazing display of speed and flexibility, lowered his body in a La Matrix fashion and let the whip pass over him.

The other faceless man wasted no time and, approaching quickly Valery, attacked her with a long, pointed dagger, similar to the one used by butchers to sharpen their knives. 

Valery felt the attack, taking the dagger in her right hand with the help of her metal glove, while with her left foot, she approached the faceless man's right foot. On the other hand, the faceless man saw the movement and, throwing his right foot back, evaded the attack, only for him to fall into Valery's trap when she rolled up the faceless man's left foot with her whip. 

The left foot, being the one that kept the faceless man's balance, after being pulled, caused the faceless man to lose his balance and lean backward, only to remain upright when he landed his dagger on the ground, thus avoiding falling. 

At the same time, he repositioned his right and left legs steadily, only to lose his balance and fall. 

Without understanding what was happening, he looked at his left leg and discovered that it was severed from his knee down, a product of Valery's whip making contact with his left leg. 

Momentarily knocked out of combat, Valery focused on the other faceless man, with a cruel smile swinging her whip from side to side, determined to dismember the other intruder in the abode of her king... of her God.