81. Butcher's hook

Another two weeks were spent on the new routine, with Ophelia learning from Myhur and then training in magic with me later in the evenings. I spent the time I’d bought researching the journals I found in the pouch and doing something about my aura, as it was becoming hard for normal people to be around me. Thankfully, the combination of contact lenses or dark glasses and my conscious control of my presence seemed to do the trick.

I did check the weapon, which turned out to be a two-handed axe, causing any wound dealt by it to rot and bleed. It was good, but useless for me, so I would sell or trade it whenever I got the chance.

For now, what I was primarily interested in were the journals. They described a clan of relatively powerful soul mages. The pouch must have been stolen, as the more I read, the harder it was to connect them with the smaller family who owned the pouch when I got it.

But most of all, it contained the information I was looking for. Well, more or less, at least. The tomb of the Butcher was never found, so I never expected just to have its coordinates.

What I found was that, as I assumed, the owner of the pouch, being a soul mage, was interested in finding the tomb. As someone who lived in a time when it would have been built, they managed to get the overall possible location of the place to roughly modern-day Georgia.

The key would most likely only awaken after coming into contact with ambient mana once again. As to what the key was, it was theorized to be the very artifact that became a symbol for the mad mage of old: the Butcher’s Hook. A weapon said to be capable of pulling a victim’s soul out of their body if a killing blow is made with it.

A few days ago, I contacted Q’Shar and asked for surveillance in Georgia for any strange happenings. It was difficult to determine what awakening the artifact would entail. The biggest problem was that it was a soul-related weapon, and that meant that almost anything could happen. Souls were mysterious and extremely complicated, so my instructions were “look for anything unusual,” and since then, we have had two false reports.

One from some drunk kids and another of an actual ritualistic murder near South Carolina.

It was not optimal, but with the medium-sized veins, wherever the Hook was, mana should reach it soon.

We also received two further inquiries about the land, one for purchase and another for cooperation. But both were rejected by the cats and me. Aside from that, Frumentarii stumbled upon another vein, this time simply in the middle of the forest, which created a sizable puddle of magic around itself.

Today was my day to focus on third-level spells. I got Bone Spear, Force Explosion, and Death Surge down.

It was around midday, and I was relaxing my brain after a few hours of practicing the spells. As usual, I was scrolling mindlessly through videos on my phone, and, as usual, it was the strange side of social media that fascinated me the most.

However, I could see a slight shift. Where previously most of it was people screaming at the camera about governments’ plans to control their minds and reptilians poisoning their food, now the topics were different. This time, the conspiracy theorists had more concrete events. They raved about a few cult murders where the perpetrators drew pentagrams on the walls and wrote some demonic names. The pentagrams were really nicely done, I had to say.

Another was a case of a maniac who would break in and use a syringe to steal people’s blood.

I furrowed my eyebrows. There was a lot of bullshit, as always, but the overall violence of the news went up.

I guess mana was having its effect all around. I then received a phone call saying Ophelia wouldn’t be coming today due to some family business she needed to deal with, after all. I raised my eyebrows at the news.

I considered checking up on her, but then again, she was an adult. If it were something she needed me for, she would tell me. So for now, I would not get involved.

As a result, I had the evening free. I planned to spend it on my favorite pastime, which was studying ancient texts and spells, figuring out what I should learn next. But it seemed that day, my phone wouldn’t let me rest as it rang once again.

It was my broker.

“I think we found it,” came an excited voice from the other side.

I immediately knew what it was that he was talking about: the Butcher’s Hook. And much quicker than I thought he would. I was hoping to get it before the Vatican sabbath.

“Excellent. Now I can—” I started excitedly, but the cat cut me off, continuing his initial thought.

“Your long-lost conscience. It was at the bottom of the ocean all along—” click. I disconnected the call and started massaging my temples.

And they said that I was the one with a talent for pissing everyone off.

After a few seconds, I called back.

“Please tell me it was about the Hook.”

“Obviously, locating your conscience would take much more than that.”

“Hilarious,” I said flatly. “So where is it?”

“Well, we aren’t sure yet. We need to double-check this, but I think you might want to start preparing.”

I raised my eyebrows as I heard concern in the voice.

“It usually takes me up to a day to prepare. Why the early heads-up?” Before he responded, I got an idea. “You know what, I have a day off today; why don’t I come by your apartment?”

“Sure.”

The call disconnected, and I went to meet Q’Shar.

After a slightly longer tea and cookies session than usual due to a new recipe, I was sitting alone with the cat.

“So what’s up?” I asked after exchanging pleasantries.

“We aren’t sure if it is the Hook. We don’t even know what to look for, honestly.”

“We knew that would be the case. It’s not like I expected you to find it within a few days.”

“Yeah. That’s not why I called you.” The cat looked at me, slightly uncomfortable. “We did some research into the Butcher to try to figure out how the Hook would manifest. And there is a problem. It’s a soul artifact, Sam.”

Silence descended as the cat let the word hang in the air.

I realized what he was talking about. It was obvious to me as I knew soul magic, but for others, it was a rare and mysterious thing, and most of all, dangerous.

“I know.”

“I know you know. But are you sure you want to go for this one? Don’t you want to wait until you learn more magic or attune the next artifact?”

“Ooooh, you are concerned about me,” I said, smiling, to which the cat hissed.

“This isn’t a joke, Sam. I read about the Hook, and the few remaining stories aren’t pleasant. If this thing causes a soul mutation or has any shit still attached since the Mythical Era, there is no telling what will happen.”

“I know I will most certainly fight an anomaly.”

“Of an unknown circle, Sam. You are our backer. If you die right before the sabbath, all we built will go to shit.”

“Then I just don’t die.”

The cat hissed again. “God, you are a stubborn, arrogant asshole sometimes. You will not have any means of judging opponents’ strengths. Do you have to risk it?”

I closed my eyes and stopped myself from making another idiotic response. Q’Shar was actually concerned about me, so I owed him a normal response, at the very least.

After choosing my words, I looked at the cat. “I don’t have to. But the Hook could expedite our plans by months, not to mention the treasures to be found if it led us to the tomb. I’m not suicidal. I can promise you that if I ever think I’m over my head, I will retreat.”

I could see that Q’Shar wasn’t exactly happy about the whole plan. But finally, he relented.

“Okay. But do keep your promise. We should get the confirmation next week.”

I relaxed at that, but the cat wasn’t finished. “Oh, and Sam. Whatever power gains you want to achieve in the following weeks, speed it up. And not only for the Hook.”

“Oh?”

“There have been some strange movements from the Vatican. They have been sending some envoys, but for now only to their allies. We should soon get invitations, but I think they are planning something.”

“The sabbath, huh. I will have to speed up Ophelia’s ascension. She should be in the first circle before we go to the Vatican.”

“Do what you must. There will be many eyes on us.”

“I know. Big bad Alharzeds are big and bad, oh no.”

“Not just that… This time around, you might get extra attention.”

I raised my eyebrows, looking at the smiling creature in front of me. “And why would that be, do tell,” I asked slowly.

“Oh, and where’s the fun in that?” Q’Shar answered, which earned him an eye roll.

After some more small talk, I went back to my storage since there were still a few hours in the day.

On my way, I mulled over Q’Shar’s words. He was right: the Hook was a potent artifact, and there was no telling what would happen once it activated.

There were some serious preparations to be made, considering what I could soon be facing.