Chapter Ninety-two

CONTENT ADVISORY / TRIGGER WARNING

THIS NOVEL CONTAINS DEPICTIONS/STRONG IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR DISTURBING:

~ VIOLENCE

Eskil carried heavy chest after heavy chest from the entryway, down the steep stairs, and into the darkness of the cellar. Libelle had purchased a variety of items, some of which he doubted she would ever even need or use. Fresh fruits and vegetables she would, but he couldn't say the same for the rolls of fabric, raw ore, and strange alchemic ingredients. It was her decision though, and he rolled his eyes in amusement every time he came across another strange item.

The dark elf servant had closely watched him the entire afternoon, sitting in a comfortable chair while writing in a journal. He never lifted a finger to help, and as much as it annoyed him, he actually appreciated the lack of help. He decided he would have been far more frustrated by having to spend the afternoon tripping over the pesky man, versus being stared at for hours.

Eskil set down a heavy wooden box of cleaned animal pelts, the furs most likely bound for some strange craft. He stretched his sore back and wiped his brow with a sigh. The cellar was dark and mostly empty, used primarily as a storage room for excess supplies. He was impressed with Libelle's wealth, but the tinge of anger he felt as to why she was so wealthy kept nagging at him.

Libelle had made a living on the deaths of his kin for several years. Her kind despised his kin, and his looked down their snouts at her kin. If either side discovered their relationship, it was bound to be complicated. Whose family should they meet first? He snickered to himself.

Eskil turned and walked towards the steep stairs, carefully watching where he put his feet as each wooden step groaned beneath his weight. He reached the last few stairs and looked up, his gaze locking with Gaalin's.

The drow's expression was livid and with one swift swing of his arm, he crashed a heavy wooden board across Eskil's face, sending him reeling backwards. Eskil's weight shifted backwards from the blow and his knees buckled as he fell back down the stairs. His impact with the ground came with a loud thud, his head pounding and spinning.

He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees as Gaalin slowly stepped down the stairs towards him. His dark expression had changed into one much fiercer with his lips curled upwards in a sadistic smile, his eyes resembling a madman's. He laughed like a maniac and clutched his abdomen as he hunched over.

Eskil growled as he dabbed at his bleeding scalp. "Bastard, what do you think you're doing?"

Gaalin's laughter ceased all at once as he quickly brought the wooden bat down against his shoulders. Eskil dropped back down to the ground with a curse.

Gaalin's face beamed in delight. "Let's have some fun, shall we?"