Creation system
Chapter 23: Addict

Chapter 23: Addict

Mitch’s magical senses tingled as he reached out with his consciousness, probing the ethereal currents that surrounded him.

The mana signature was unmistakable, a cold, predatory presence that cut through the ambient magical energy like a blade through silk.

It was drawing closer, moving with the calculated stealth of a trained killer. The signature felt different from ordinary magic users; there was something twisted about it, corrupted by years of violence and dark practices.

Drawing upon his, Mitch carefully arranged his features into a mask of bewildered confusion.

He let his shoulders slump slightly, allowing his eyes to dart around the room as if searching for an explanation to some inexplicable phenomenon.

His breathing quickened just enough to sell the performance, a man genuinely rattled by something he couldn’t understand.

But beneath this facade, his mind remained sharp and focused.

Power coursed through his veins as he raised his dominant hand, fingers splaying in the precise gesture he’d practiced multiple times.

Mana coalesced in his palm, forming a sphere of crackling energy that pulsed with barely contained force. The spell structure was simple but effective, raw magical energy compressed into a projectile that would punch through most defensive barriers.

With a mental command, he released the mana ball toward the approaching signature. The sphere streaked through the air, leaving a brief trail of luminescent particles in its wake.

The impact was immediate and devastating. The assassin’s invisibility spell, a complex weaving of light-bending magic that must have cost considerable mana to maintain, shattered like glass struck by a hammer.

Reality rippled as the magical concealment collapsed, revealing the would-be killer in all his lethal glory. The man materialized mid-stride, caught completely off-guard by the unexpected counterattack.

Mitch’s spell struck, catching the assassin directly beneath the neck where the jugular vein and carotid artery lay vulnerable.

The concentrated magical energy tore through flesh and bone with terrifying efficiency. The assassin’s eyes widened in shock and pain as the force of the impact lifted him from his feet, sending him crashing to the floor with a sickening thud.

His body went limp instantly, limbs sprawling at unnatural angles, dark blood pooling beneath his head.

"Safe my ass!" The bitter thought cut through Mitch’s mind like acid. Leya’s assurances about the inner circle being a sanctuary of peace and security now seemed laughably naive.

Apparently, even in the supposed heart of civilized magical society, death could find you in the most mundane of places.

A surge of disgust and contempt welled up within him. Without ceremony, he spat on the assassin’s corpse, the saliva landing on the man’s still-warm cheek.

It was a crude gesture, but it felt appropriately disrespectful for someone who had tried to murder him in what should have been the safety of his own room.

Closing his eyes, Mitch began the intricate process of channeling holy magic through his body.

The divine energy felt different from his usual spells, warmer, more soothing, like sunlight filtering through stained glass.

Golden light emanated from his hands as he pressed them against his wounds, feeling the torn flesh knit itself back together with miraculous speed.

The deep gashes from the assassin’s initial attack sealed themselves, leaving only faint pink lines that would fade within hours.

As the healing energy flowed through him, Mitch couldn’t help but acknowledge the sobering reality of his situation.

The fight had been far too close for comfort. His mana reserves were nearly depleted, at most, he could manage another two or three spells before exhaustion would leave him defenseless.

Even with the new magical trinkets he’d acquired, items that significantly boosted his power beyond what should have been possible for someone of his level, there would always be someone stronger lurking in the shadows.

Someone with better equipment, more experience, deadlier tricks, and fewer moral constraints.

The magical world was an endless hierarchy of power, and tonight had reminded him that he was still far from the top of that pyramid.

After ensuring his wounds were completely healed, Mitch retrieved a small crystal vial from his pocket space, an antidote he’d purchased that very day from the guild’s marketplace.

The amber liquid within swirled with protective enchantments designed to neutralize a wide spectrum of toxins. He drained the vial in one gulp, feeling the bitter medicine burn down his throat.

It was probably unnecessary, but in his experience, paranoia was what kept you alive in situations like this.

With his immediate safety secured, Mitch turned his attention to the dead assassin. The man appeared to be in his late twenties, with the lean, wiry build of someone who relied on speed and stealth rather than brute force.

His dark hair was cut short in a practical style, and his clothes were well-made but unremarkable, the kind of garments that would help him blend into any crowd. Several small scars crisscrossed his hands and forearms, testament to a life of violence and close calls.

Mitch searched the corpse’s pockets, his fingers probing through fabric and leather with practiced efficiency.

The assassin carried a modest collection of gold coins, enough to live comfortably for a few weeks, but nothing that suggested he was particularly successful at his chosen profession.

More interesting were the small sachets filled with fine green powder that glittered with an almost hypnotic luminescence. The substance had an acrid, chemical smell that made Mitch’s nose wrinkle in distaste.

He let them be, not even apraising them.

But it was the folded piece of paper that truly caught his attention. The parchment was high-quality, and the handwriting was elegant despite the crude nature of the message:

"You know you can’t hide from me, you stupid addict. The boys will find you eventually, no matter where you try to burrow. Just come and pay what you owe, you love the high-tier stuff I’ve procured for you, don’t you? The rush, the power, the way it makes you feel invincible? A new batch has arrived, not so long ago, even purer than the last shipment. I’ll save a piece just for you, but you need to come with the gold. Don’t make me send more persuasive messengers. Signed, M"

M again? Mitch’s mind raced as he reread the letter. This was the second time he’d encountered that mysterious initial in connection with dangerous individuals.

The implications were troubling, it suggested a larger network of criminal activity, possibly with this "M" person at its center.

Setting the letter aside, Mitch turned his attention to the assassin’s equipment. The man’s gear was surprisingly sophisticated for what appeared to be a drug-addicted killer-for-hire:

[2 x Tier 2 Power Rings – Simple silver bands that gleamed with embedded enchantments, each one capable of increasing the wearer’s physical strength by 6 points. The craftsmanship was competent but uninspired, clearly the work of a novice crafter.]

[2 x Tier 1 Strength Rings – Carved from some kind of dense, dark wood and infused with raw mana, these rings provided a more modest boost of 3 points to physical power. The amateur craftsmanship was evident in the slightly uneven cuts and the way the magical energy pulsed irregularly through the grain.]

[Tier 2 Leaf Amulet – A silver pendant featuring an intricately detailed leaf design, its surface covered in minute engravings that seemed to shift and flow when viewed from different angles. The piece significantly enhanced the wearer’s reflexes and reaction time.]

[Tier 2 Leaf Bracelet – A matching silver bracelet adorned with delicate leaf motifs that complemented the amulet perfectly. Like its companion piece, it sharpened the wearer’s reflexes to superhuman levels.]

[Tier 2 Serpent’s Fang Knife – A wicked-looking blade forged from what appeared to be an actual serpent’s tooth, somehow enlarged and hardened through magical processes. The weapon possessed exceptional durability and maintained a razor-sharp edge that would never dull. More ominously, it was enchanted to add a 10% poison damage bonus to any wound it inflicted.]

The throwing knives scattered around the room were simple iron affairs, mass-produced and unremarkable. They were the kind of weapons any common thug might carry, hardly worth the effort of collecting.

Nice haul! Mitch thought with grim satisfaction. The magical items alone were worth more than most people earned in a year.

He carefully stowed each piece in his enchanted pocket space, already planning how to distribute some of the trinkets.

Leya could definitely benefit from the additional protection, and these items might mean the difference between life and death in a future encounter.

With the evidence secured, Mitch sprinted down the inn’s narrow corridors toward the main desk.

His footsteps echoed off the wooden walls as he sought out the innkeeper, a portly man named Gareth who prided himself on running a respectable establishment.

When Mitch burst into the common room and quickly explained what had transpired, Gareth’s face went through a remarkable transformation.

The man’s initial skepticism melted into horror as he realized the full implications of what had occurred under his own roof. His ruddy complexion turned ashen, and his hands began to shake visibly as he contemplated the potential consequences.

The innkeeper’s fear was palpable, and Mitch realized it wasn’t just concern for his business reputation.

Gareth was genuinely terrified of the awakener standing before him, a man who had just casually dispatched a skilled assassin. The display of power had been utterly ruthless.

"Guards! Clear the room immediately!" Gareth’s voice cracked as he shouted orders to his security staff. "Seal off the room! No one gets in or out without my personal authorization!"

The innkeeper’s apologies came in a torrent of stammered words and nervous gestures. He bowed so low that Mitch worried the man might topple over entirely.

"Please, honored awakener, accept my most humble apologies for this inexcusable breach of security. This establishment has failed you in the most fundamental way possible."

When Mitch requested a new room, this time without the sound barrier that had nearly proven fatal, Gareth practically threw himself at the awakener’s feet in his eagerness to comply.

The new accommodations were provided free of charge for an entire week, and they were significantly more luxurious than his previous lodgings.

The room featured a four-poster bed with silk hangings, a private balcony overlooking the inn’s gardens, and magical amenities that would have cost a small fortune under normal circumstances.

That night, after a bath that had been meticulously prepared by the inn’s most skilled attendants, women who had used enchanted oils and healing herbs to ease the lingering tension from the fight, Mitch settled into his new quarters.

The bed was impossibly comfortable, with mattresses that seemed to mold themselves to his body and pillows that felt like captured clouds.

Despite the luxury surrounding him, despite the guards now stationed outside his door, despite the innkeeper’s assurances that nothing like this would ever happen again, Mitch still slept with his backup knife tucked securely beneath his pillow.

In a world where death could strike without warning, a little paranoia was simply good sense.