Fallen Mage Regressor

Mal turned around to see Deacon Thoma, gardening rake in hand and a cloth bag in his other hand. He walked over to a nearby wall and set both items down against it, then turned back and walked to Mal.

"Deacon Thoma," Mal said. "How are you doing?"

"I'm just fine. What I'm more concerned about is you, my young friend."

Mal suppressed a frown. What was Deacon Thoma talking about?

"What's the issue?"

"Walk with me."

The two set off in silence for a minute before Deacon Thoma broke it.

"When you said that you wanted the church to look the other way," he said. "I wasn't expecting to find out that you'd become the leader of an up-and-coming gang in the Black Quarter."

Mal's jaw tightened. He kept his movements completely still, one step after another.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"I'm fairly certain that you do." He held up a hand. "Peace, young one. I am not here to... as the children would say, 'snitch' on you."

Mal furrowed his eyebrows together. "Then what?"

"I come out of concern for you, young one," Deacon Thoma said.

He looked up toward the now nearly set sun.

"From the moment we met, I could sense a darkness within you," Deacon Thoma said. "But I also sensed a glimmer of change, that the darkness was receding."

He turned toward Mal. "The darkness is not receding. I worry for you, young one."

It was almost word for word a conversation Mal had in the first timeline. Last time, it hadn't been a small gang; it had been an army making its way through the various regions of the world, conquering and pillaging to serve their master—Mal.

But it had been the same man. He'd been older then—even older than he was now. Even so, he had remained certain that Mal could change.

...In the end, had he been proven right?

Had Mal really changed all that much?

"I'm not saying you need to cease your nightly activities," Thoma said. "But pay heed to your soul. You only have the one, it would be a shame to lose it."

And with that, he departed into the night.

Mal thought about this conversation all the way to the Cat's Eye Gang hideout. The plan for this night had been complete destruction of the Vermillion family, the current rulers of the Black Quarter. It had been an easy decision—the Vermillion family, as emperors of the poorest and most desperate of the four quarters of Exodi City, had engaged in horrific evils by any objective measure. Mal would have been doing the city a favor by eliminating them.

Mal doubted anybody would have blamed him for their deaths.

He stopped at the warehouse door.

But it wasn't about the Vermillion family—it was about him, and what the murder of a dozen people did to him.

Even if they deserved it.

He stepped into the warehouse and Aston was the first to turn about and nod at him. Hemp walked up, a hand on her hip, cocky smirk in place. "Well, look who's late?"

A new voice. "Master."

Behind him.

He turned about, and Hemp drew a dagger from its sheath on her belt. "Who the hell are you?"

Lusia bowed, curtsying in her maid dress. "My name is Lusia."

"You're not supposed to be here, Lusia."

Mal stepped in front of Hemp, hand outstretched. "Relax, she's with me."

Hemp startled, then glared at Mal. "The hell you mean?"

"She's my personal maid, and I believed that she would provide a much needed force multiplier to our current group."

"What are we supposed to do with a frilly maid?" Hemp walked up to Lusia and poked her shoulder. "What, is she gonna pour tea at them?"

"No, I will not," she said.

Aston looked her up and down and raised an eyebrow.

"She's powerful," Aston said. "And experienced. Where did you get her from?"

"Around."

Hemp scoffed, a smirk on her lips. "Experienced in what? Putting her legs in the air?"

"I can jump very high," Lusia said.

Hemp's smirk slipped off her face, and she stared at Lusia like she was an alien.

"It was a joke," Hemp said.

"What kind of joke? Clarify."

Before Hemp could answer, Mal walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Would Eternus want you telling crass jokes?" Mal asked.

Hemp's eyes shot wide, then her face flushed red and she crossed her arms.

"Whatever." She snorted. "Will she actually be of any use? What she can do?"

"Throw her at any problem, and it'll be taken care of," Mal said. "Except domestic household chores. She'll make those worse."

"That's not true. I'm average."

Mal clapped his hands and raised his voice, stepping in front of the assembled group.

"Alright, there's been a slight change of plans," he said. "The original goal was going to be finding and killing every single member of the Vermillion family—their higher-ups, that is. I've decided to go for a different route."

"Wait, what?" Hemp said. "We can't just change plans on the fly, Mal. At the very least, we're going to need to set everything back by a few days—"

"I'm not talking about a significant change. There's only going to be one small modification—" Mal said. "Instead of killing them, we're going to kidnap them."

"Kidnap them?" Hemp said.

"I don't understand why we're going to the extra effort. And besides, if you don't eliminate them now, they'll be a thorn in your side," Aston said.

"Oh, I'm not planning to let them go free. They're going to a very, very dark pit. And I'll be sure to personally monitor them. Besides that, I have a plan that requires one of them alive. I think it'll be much better than trying to take over the Black Quarter by force."

Mal explained what he was thinking. As soon as they heard, grins spread across Aston and Hemp's face.

Lusia remained blank-faced, apparently uncaring or uninterested.

"Was it really a good idea to let those two go off on their own? I thought Hemp was on the verge of murdering that other girl."

"That's just her way of showing affection."

Mal kicked the air and made an impossibly high jump.

Aston followed behind him, his legs thrumming with mana so bright that Mal could see it even through his clothing.

They both landed on a roof. Soundlessly, then they continued running forward.

"I really am curious where you found her," Aston said. "I've been around a number of powerful people in my time—it's a strange thing to say, but she reminds me of the princess."

"I'm pretty sure the princess would understand a crude joke, sheltered as she may be."

"I'm not talking about personality. I'm talking about..." Aston shook his head. "I don't know. I can't quite put my finger on it."

They both stopped. There was a large multi-block building, towering above the surrounding huts by a floor or so. A guard dressed in ragged clothes stood watch on one of the nearby roofs. His hand wrapped loosely around the hilt of a dagger on his hip. Speckled across the surrounding buildings were several other guards in a similar state of dress with similar weaponry.

"Anyway—" Mal lowered his voice. "The other members of the family aren't going to be as well guarded. Hemp and Lusia were the best choices. It needed to be us two for the ones who remained at their home base. The Vermillion family is the least successful of the four families, but even they have enough resources to get access to one or two Adepts."

"Hemp used that word," Aston said. "But I'm still a little bit confused about what that is."

"Ah."

Mal had been using international terminology rather than how Chama people referred to strength. And for all their experience, Aston and his group were primarily based in Chama.

How best to describe it?

"Adepts would refer to students who are around the power of a fourth year and up academy student. They have a wide variety of spells and have mastered combos extensively."

"Ah, understood." Aston said. "Are there ranks beyond that?"

"There are. Master is the next highest rank, typically given to wizards far later in their career. It's a wizard who's 'mastered' a branch of magic. And of course, you have Archmages, but the only living one is Puck at the current moment, and his title is a little bit debatable."

Mal was one of those who argued that Puck was a true Archmage. The trouble was that everybody had a different definition for what an Archmage was. Was it simply the most powerful living wizard? Was it somebody who met a certain objective measure of strength, or magical power? The term didn't really mean anything, so Mal preferred not to use it.

"Anyway," Mal said. "They'll probably have two or three Adepts personally guarding them. Those will be the ones we're going to have trouble with."

"Got it." He looked at Mal. "How do I match up against them?"

It was a difficult thing to rank. Aston, in terms of knowledge, was comparable to a first-year student, but his competency in his specific field was at sixth year. And his overall combat experience added a multiplier that made him even more difficult to quantify.

"You're comparable in strength to them," Mal said. "I believe with the two of us, we should be able to take them on."

"Then let us advance onward, Lord Patoal."

They jumped onto the next roof. Aston rushed ahead before Mal could do anything, and summoned his spell sword out of the air. He slammed the hilt onto the back of the guard's head and he collapsed into the ground. Mal trailed behind him, Airgrass boots preventing any sound from escaping. He peered upward at the building then looked around at the window edges.

"I think they'd be expecting a rooftop attack," Mal said. "I'd bet there's dozens of traps along there."

"Then where would they not expect?" Aston said.

"Come now, you've done this before."

Aston snorted, then scanned the building from top to bottom.

"The second floor window at the front," Aston said. "You'd have to be suicidal to go in that way."

"Sounds like a good time. Let's give it a shot."

Aston jumped across and landed at the edge of one of the wood frames. Mal did the same. He landed and nearly tipped over backward before Aston caught his back. Mal's heart thumped in his chest, then Aston pulled him to hug the building.

The two sidled along the wooden framing until they reach the front. Mal searched along the seams, then took out his dagger and pried it open.

Unlocked, Mal thought. Understandably so—you'd have to be crazy to go in this way.

There were two guards at the front door, directly below them. All that they would have to do was look up and the gig would be up.

Mal slowly pulled the window open, then crawled through. Aston followed.

There was someone being whipped in one of the adjacent rooms.

Mal stared at the door. Aston did so as well. The noise continued. Someone shrieked and the crack of a whip followed. A laugh came out from two other people inside of the room, low and amused.

Aston reached out to open the door—

Mal grabbed his wrist.

"We do that, and we lose the element of surprise," Mal said. "We'll take care of this once the plan has been executed."

Aston's jaw clenched, then he nodded. The two continued on to the end of the hall, where there was an inconspicuous looking door. Mal walked up to it and pressed his ear against it.

Voices.

"—they're expanding fast."

"They can't possibly mean to make a move on us, can they?"

"The other families would never allow it. They have to know this."

"The Black Quarter would burn from the other three coming down on this place. Even they have to know that."

Mal shut his eyes and expanded Total Awareness.

Five weak-looking men, one weak-looking woman, and there were two strong ones to the left and to the right.

Mal communicated this to Aston, who nodded in return.

Mal swung the door open and immediately shot toward the one on the left. Aston took the opposite side. The Adept's eyes shot open, then narrowed into fine lines. He reached for the air and pulled a sword from dimensional storage with a quick flick of his wrist.

The adept tapped his sword against a cabinet, and then swung his blade like a baseball bat. The cabinet followed the path of his blade and shot toward Mal.

Mal saw the blow coming from a mile away. He ducked underneath it, and his hands flashed red. The Fireglove burst into flame, and he grabbed the man's wrist. The man let out a scream, dropped his blade, and the smell of freshly cooked meat filled the air.

"Sound the alarm!" someone in the back shouted.

One of the Vermillion family members ran for the door. Mal intercepted him with an outstretched leg and the man tumbled over and hit the ground hard. Aston disarmed the other adept, then sheathed his own blade with a quick flourish.

"Ironically," Mal said. "Whatever you're doing in those other rooms is exactly what allowed us to get away with this. Everyone's too busy living in sin to hear what's about to happen."

"W—what's about to happen?" The woman at the back said.

"None other than your mass disappearance, of course."

Ironically, knocking out each of the members of the Vermillion family and sneaking them back to the Cat's Eye Gang warehouse had been more difficult than getting in. Mal and Aston had eventually just decided to start throwing the bodies across the roofs, and this somehow didn't result in them getting caught. By the end, every single person who could be classified as a decision maker of the Vermillion family was tied up and blindfolded in an empty warehouse.

Mal watched as Hemp and Lusia lugged in the last member. "Any trouble?"

"Other than Miss Talkative over here, driving me insane, no," Hemp said.

Lusia tilted her head. "I'm not talkative."

Hemp face-palmed and dragged her hand down her cheeks. "It's been like this for the past two hours. I swear to goodness, boss, I'm about to commit murder."

"I would prefer if you didn't kill my maid," Mal said.

Lusia nodded. "I would also prefer if I was not killed."

"Sure you wouldn't. Glad that we've reached that stage in our relationship."

Mal walked past Lusia and Hemp, and up to the head honcho. He pulled off the blindfold, revealing the interior of the warehouse.

The leader of the Vermillion family glared at him. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Me?" Mal pointed at himself. "Oh, just a concerned citizen. You know that crime's been going up in the Black Quarter. I just figured that I'd do my part—"

"Cut the crap. What do you want?"

"Oh, it's really quite simple." Mal kneeled down and smiled. "I want the Vermillion family."

The leader barked out a laugh. "You're joking. You think we're just going to hand it over to you?"

"I think that you won't," Mal said, "but I think one of your deputies might."

One by one, Mal's allies took off the blindfolds, and they sat in silence for a bit, allowing the situation to sink in.

Mal picked up the leader by the collar and walked over to the edge of the warehouse.

"Get your hands off of me, you piece of shit!" the leader shouted.

Mal lined him up at the edge of a hole.

He pushed, and the man tumbled into the hole.

"Here's the deal," Mal said. "One of you is going to agree to be my puppet. You run the Vermillion family in name, but you answer to me. You get routine inspections from my people, and if I catch a whiff of rebellion, everybody you know and love—including the people who are going to be thrown into this hole—are going to die."

Silence.

"You—you don't know what you're doing. The other three families will find out, and they won't abide an outsider—"

"Wrong answer." He nodded at Hemp.

Hemp picked up the one who'd spoken, and dragged him over to the hole and threw him in. There was the sound of two bodies hitting each other and a long groan.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble are you going to be in once our people find out—"

"Wrong answer again."

Lusia picked up the person who'd spoken and tossed her into the hole as well.

At this, the three remaining men looked at each other.

"Pick me—"

"Wait, me!"

"I promise, you won't go wrong with me—"

Mal held up a hand for all of them to shut up. They did so.

Mal walked up to the three, looked at each of them in turn, then nodded at the one on the right. The biggest and burliest one.

What none of them knew was that Mal had already extensively researched every member of the Vermillion family in detail.

He knew that this one had a weakness for women and drugs. He also knew that he was a coward who had already betrayed his previous gang to become part of the Vermillion family.

The other one had too much loyalty to the current leader, and the last one had a bit too much ambition for his own good.

They were dragged off and thrown into the hole. The third, who'd agreed to work with Mal, had his hands cut free by Lusia.

"Now then," Mal said, "let's talk about the functions of the Vermillion family, and about your middle management."

For the next hour, Mal learned the names, weaknesses, and personal addresses of every single middle management bureaucrat within the Vermillion family. The people who actually organized getting things done.

One by one, Mal would be replacing these people with his own. The grunts would have no idea—it would be so slow and so subtle that by the time the organizational takeover was complete, it would be far too late to do anything about it. The main issue was that it would take time—and it wouldn't be long before the other three families caught wind of what had happened.

The man had been adamant that Mal needed to have a plan in mind. He would fend off the three families' representatives, but they would want answers as to why a deputy had abruptly replaced the leader, and eventually, this man—Aaron—would have to stop going to meetings and talks with those three to avoid having his own head chopped off. Something that Mal could understand and appreciate.

At that point, the game would be up. The Black Quarter would come under attack from the other three families, who wouldn't want an outsider taking control of such a major section of the city.

Their task was clear—they would have to fortify the Black Quarter using the new resources they gained from the Vermillion family. Turn the Cat's Eye Gang hideout into a fortress, and be ready to weather the coming storm.

Mal thought back to the hole where several people were currently being housed. He couldn't help but think to himself—

I really am such a merciful person, aren't I?

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