Loss Making Business!

Three seasoned bounty hunters from the Bronze Guild, armed with relentless resolve, had pinpointed and verified the existence of their quarry, the notorious lich known as Grandpa Lance. With meticulous planning, they infiltrated the opulent City Lord's Mansion, disguising themselves as temporary servants to get closer to their target.

Within the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, they learned that the lich had ingeniously blended into the household as the butler, a role that gave him ample cover and access to potential victims. The hunters and the lich, both aware of each other's true identities, were engaged in a deadly game of cat and mouse.

Despite their carefully crafted disguises, the trio quickly realized that the butler, with his centuries-old cunning, had seen through their ruse. Their every move was watched, their accents and manners betraying their foreign origins in Lionheart City. The stakes were clear: the hunters aimed to eliminate the lich that very night, while he planned to drain their life force and transform them into his undead minions.

As dusk fell, the tension in the air was palpable. In the shadowy back garden of the mansion, Louis, Dalton, and Bazel emerged from their hiding to confront their foe. The lich, clad in a pristine black tuxedo, strolled through the garden with a sinister grace. He paused to admire a tulip, his cold voice breaking the silence.

"Miss Joanna adores these tulips. She often inquires about my secret to such vibrant blooms. Little does she know, the essence of extraordinary beings makes the finest fertilizer," he remarked, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"Our vitality may intrigue you, but tonight, we're not the prey but the predators," Louis declared, stepping forward with his comrades.

The lich, known as Brandon, turned with a chilling smile. "Ah, the hunters from the Adventurer's Guild. How quaint. I am Brandon, at your service."

"We're here to end your reign, Brandon. Any last words before we proceed?" Dalton asked, his hand on his weapon.

Brandon's smile widened. "A parting thought, should you vanquish me, would any of you consider inheriting my Lich Tower? Perhaps change your profession?"

"Sorry, we're not interested," Bazel responded firmly.

The air thickened with the promise of conflict, the garden set as the stage for a battle where only one side would emerge alive. The silent whispers of the night seemed to pause, anticipating the clash of mortality against the undying.

"That's unfortunate. I was hoping for a swift resolution tonight," the lich butler Brandon mused with a wistful tone. "Miss Joanna dislikes me staying up late, you know. She always advises early rest for both vigor and vitality. She's a kind soul, that one. Should the this lord meet his demise, I'd like her to succeed me as my disciple."

As he spoke, a sleek black card materialized in his hand. With a careless flick, Brandon let the card slip from his fingers to the ground. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted dramatically.

The once serene garden morphed into a ghastly cemetery; the air filled with the sounds of sinister roars as white bones clawed their way from beneath the earth. The landscape around Louis, Dalton, and Bazel teemed with skeletal figures, but any bone that dared near them disintegrated under the purifying energy they radiated.

"Ah, energies of the sun, wind, and earth. Impressive, indeed," Brandon remarked, eyeing their capabilities. "Do you dabble in card magic as well?"

"Just a bit," Louis responded cautiously. "And that card of yours?"

"It's named [Paradise of the Dead]. Every formidable foe who's sought my end is trapped within its realm. Be wary, for even assured of my victory, I never hold back against hunters. To spare the City Lord's Mansion any collateral damage, this card also seals the energies unleashed during our confrontation. Repairs are costly, and you don't strike me as particularly affluent."

"Is this your domain then?" Dalton inquired, eyeing the surreal surroundings.

"No, no, no," Brandon chuckled softly. "If I had mastery over domains, you'd already be dead. Consider this merely a barrier."

The battle escalated quickly. Louis was enveloped in flames, incinerating low-level skeleton soldiers upon contact. Dalton created gusts of cutting winds that slashed through bone and marrow, while Bazel manipulated the earth, forming massive khaki hands that crushed any skeleton that ventured too close.

Brandon, unperturbed, summoned two more black cards. As they touched the ground, a pair of undead knights in dark armor atop skeletal horses charged forward, brandishing spears.

"These liches and their tricks," Bazel grunted. "Let's use those sword scrolls Grandpa Lance provided."

"Agreed," Louis said, his voice steely.

With a forceful punch, Louis cleared a path through the skeletons and swiftly retrieved two ornate scrolls from his cloak. He hurled them at the charging undead knights, but their spears pierced through the scrolls, rendering them ineffective.

"Now, it's our turn to end this," Dalton declared, as they prepared for the final assault. "There's no escape for him now. Defensive positions!"

The trio braced themselves, ready to counterattack, their resolve as strong as ever in the eerie moonlight of the transformed garden-cemetery.

"We're about to unleash Grandpa Lance's sword!" Louis shouted, his voice echoing across the eerie [Paradise of the Dead].

"My knee! It feels like it's been struck by Grandpa Lance's own sword!" Dalton cried out in mock agony, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he watched their plan unfold.

As the two undead knights tore through the scrolls of sword intent, a brilliant transformation occurred. From the torn parchment erupted two radiant golden suns, casting an intense light that filled the dark expanse of the [Paradise of the Dead]. The undead knights, caught in the sudden blaze, vanished without a trace.

Skeletons emerging relentlessly from graves and the ground below found themselves overpowered by the sheer brilliance of the light. The intense rays vaporized them instantly, leaving no trace but dust.

Brandon, the elegant lich butler dressed in his pristine tuxedo, unleashed every defensive measure he possessed. He clutched his lich scepter, hoping it would shield him from the impending doom. Yet, despite his efforts, the overwhelming light from the twin suns pierced through all his defenses.

He watched helplessly as his scepter disintegrated within the golden light. His body and the very essence of his being were relentlessly penetrated and seared by the powerful glow. His lich soul, trapped in the torment of the light, flickered violently.

"No, no, no! This can't be the end!" Brandon murmured in disbelief as his form began to dissolve. "The swordsmanship, the skill, it's transformed into these devastating light. Unbelievable..."

As his consciousness faded, Brandon's last sight was of the three bounty hunters, Louis, Dalton, and Bazel, shouting in victory, albeit a tad dramatically. The aftermath of their encounter was catastrophic. The force of the twin suns had not only obliterated the lich but also wreaked havoc on the City Lord's Mansion.

The following morning, Lionheart City was abuzz with shocking news. Two golden suns had dramatically manifested at the City Lord's Mansion the previous night, resulting in significant damage. The mansion itself was partially destroyed, numerous servants sustained minor injuries, and three temporary workers were seriously hurt. The butler, Mr. Brandon, was nowhere to be found.

Subsequent investigations revealed that the three injured temporary workers were actually bounty hunters from another kingdom. It was also uncovered that the supposed butler was a lich who had killed and replaced the real Brandon long ago.

The Temple of Lionheart City later confirmed the true nature of the impostor butler. As for the trio of hunters, they were held partially accountable for the extensive damages to the City Lord's Mansion, with reparations amounting to about 3,000 gold coins.