Operation New Genisis

Meanwhile, in the Baron's opulent chamber deep within the heart of the underground market, the crimson-clad figure known as the Crimson Merchant sat at his desk, surrounded by the trappings of wealth and power.

His mask was a work of art, crafted from gleaming porcelain with intricate gold inlays that swirled like serpents across the crimson fabric that covered his face. It was a chilling visage, with piercing eyes that seemed to see through any deception and a smile that never quite reached his hidden lips. His crimson cloak pooled around him like a river of blood, hinting at the violence and chaos he brought to the lives of those who dared cross his path.

The Baron had just received word of the impending raid from his network of spies. He leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and considered his options. He knew the layout of the market better than anyone else. It was his kingdom, and he had spent years crafting it into a fortress of secrets and illicit dealings. He had connections that even the esteemed House Valthorne could not dream of.

"They found us faster than expected..." he murmured. "But so be it, this will be the start of Operation 'New Genisis'."

He reached for a crystal decanter filled with a deep red wine and poured himself a glass, savoring the rich aroma that filled the room.

Then he looked over to the Crimson Merchant. "Let Enigma know it's starting."

The Crimson Merchant nodded, "Very well," he said, his voice a low, menacing purr. "Operation 'New Genesis' begins tonight."

The knights of House Valthorne had no idea what was about to unfold. They waited in the shadows, their breath misting in the chilly air as they listened for any sign of their quarry.

Mordecai had insisted on leading Deole through the southern part of the underground market. Her intuition had been honed by her unique ability to navigate the labyrinth of memories and thoughts. She knew every twist and turn of the market from her brief delve into Aldwyn's mind.

After a while, they reached the large building where the masquerade had been held a couple of days ago. It was also the Baron's hideout, therefore they were certain to find him there.

Mordecai and Deole approached the large door, which were surprisingly quiet. "Ready?" Deole whispered, and Mordecai nodded, her hand on the doorknob.

They pushed the doors open, revealing an eerily silent room.

Mordecai recalled well from aldwyn's memories that there was a way down, where the Baron's chamber was.

As they passed through the room and went downstairs, they heard eerie music coming from the room at the other end of the hallway.

As they approached, they noticed that the door to the baron's chamber was slightly open. Almost like an invitation.

Mordecai looked at Deole with a hint of suspicion. "This is too easy," she murmured.

"Perhaps the Baron underestimates us," Deole said with a shrug.

Mordecai didn't share his confidence. She knew the Baron was anything but careless. Her hand hovered over the door handle, feeling the cool metal beneath her glove. She pushed the door open slowly, revealing a chamber bathed in crimson light.

The Baron was indeed waiting for them, lounging in a velvet chair with a crystal goblet in hand. The room was laden with the scent of incense, and an eerie melody played on a music box that sat on a shelf laden with books and artifacts. He raised his glass in a silent toast as they entered.

The crimson mask that adorned his face was a chilling sight. It was a work of twisted artistry, crafted from a deep red fabric that shimmered in the candlelight. The mask was embroidered with intricate gold thread that outlined the contours of a skull, the eye sockets hollowed out to reveal his crimson eyes. A slit for a mouth allowed the Baron to speak and smile, but it never quite reached his eyes, leaving his expressions eerily flat.

"Welcome, Deole Mitchell," the Baron greeted, his voice smooth as velvet. "And the lovely Mordecai."

Deole's hand tightened around his sword, but he maintained his composure. "You know why we're here," he said, his voice low and menacing.

The Baron took a sip from his goblet, his crimson eyes never leaving Deole's. "Ah, yes. The stolen goods, the Hollow, the usual trifles that concern the pious and the powerful." He set the goblet down and leaned back in his chair.

Mordecai stepped forward, her hand on the hilt of her sword. "You will come with us," she said, her voice a deadly whisper.

The Baron's smile grew wider, if such a thing were possible. "Or what?" he taunted. "You'll spill more blood in this city?"

Deole's eyes narrowed. "The blood of traitors and thieves is no loss," he said, his voice like steel.

The Baron's smile never wavered. "Is that so?" He gestured to the walls, where paintings of ancient battles and mythical beasts looked down upon them. "Tell me, Deole, do you truly understand the game you're playing?"

He paused briefly before continuing, "Your politics, your decision, this city... All of it a waste. Once Operation 'New Genisis' is complete, this city can finally flourish."

....

Gaines stood at the entrance of the Merchants' Guild. His eyes scanned the bustling street, searching for any signs of trouble that might be heading his way.

When he pushed open the heavy doors, the atmosphere inside was a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The guild was dimly lit, with only a few flickering candles, the silence was almost deafening.

A figure was waiting for him, shrouded in shadow. The only indication of its presence was the glint of metal from the tip of his blades.

"I knew you'd come," the figure spoke, his voice a serrated whisper that sent shivers down Gaines' spine.

He stepped out of the shadows and revealed his face. It was Caius, the assassin that attacked Aldwyn.

"What do you want?" Gaines's voice was steady.

Caius stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Nothing special, I'm just using you as a tool to lure someone, I'm looking for." he said, his voice a low growl.

Gaines swallowed hard, his hand inching closer to the pistol at his side. He knew he couldn't take on an assassin like Caius in a straight-up fight, not without backup.

Caius, seemingly reading his thoughts, chuckled darkly. "Don't bother," he said, flicking his wrist and sending a throwing knife flying towards Gaines's chest.

Gaines had milliseconds to react. He threw himself to the side, the knife embedding in the wooden door frame with a thunk. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it shakily at Caius, who was already advancing with unnerving speed.

But Caius was too fast. He was on Gaines in an instant, knocking the gun from his hand with a swift swipe of his blade. The air was filled with the clang of steel and the grunt of exertion. Gaines felt a cold, sharp pain in his side, and he stumbled back, trying to keep the assassin at bay.

The room spun around him as blood gushed from his wound. Caius toyed with him, his blades dancing in a deadly ballet of death. Gaines had never seen anyone move with such unnatural grace, such animalistic ferocity.

The fight was over almost before it began. Caius' twin blades sang a mournful tune as they pierced through the air, finding their target with brutal ease. Gaines stumbled backward, desperately trying to dodge the relentless onslaught. But it was no use. Caius' blades found their marks with a sickening finality, and he crumpled to the floor, his life's essence pooling around him.

Moments later, the guild hall was once again still. The candles flickered, casting eerie shadows across the blood-soaked floor. Caius stood over Gaines's lifeless body, his crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He wiped his blades clean on the tail of his cloak, leaving the man to die in a growing pool of his own blood.

....

The Crimson Merchant had an appointment to keep, one that was essential to the success of his grand design. He slipped through the shadowy alleys of the underground market, his crimson cloak fluttering behind him like the wings of a bat.

Enigma's store was unassuming from the outside, but within its walls, secrets whispered and deals were struck that could shake the very foundations of Helgarde.

The Crimson Merchant stepped inside, the door creaking softly on its hinges. The shop was dimly lit by candles that threw flickering shadows across the rows of dusty tomes and ancient artifacts.

"Ah, you've arrived," Enigma greeted, his eyes gleaming from behind his ornate mask. The room was cluttered with the remnants of forgotten magic and the whispers of lost knowledge. His voice was a muffled whisper, like secrets being shared in a tomb.

The Crimson Merchant nodded, his eyes never leaving Enigma's obscured gaze. "The knights are on their way. Deole Mitchell is with them."

"The Baron has started 'New Genisis'! Based on his information, there are ten knights scattered around the market at the entrances, the other ten are led by a strong captain."

Enigma's smile grew, the corners of his mouth stretching under the mask. "Excellent. The stage is set. We shall proceed as planned. I will deal with the ten knights at the entrances."

The Crimson Merchant nodded. "And I'll deal with the other ten knights and this captain." He turned to go, his cloak billowing behind him.