“You idiot!,” a shadowy figure yelled, banging on the desk in front of him. “Zakum, you absolute moron! Do you ever think that during your career of getting killed for a living, you could, I don’t know, learn how to fight back?!”
“Silence, Irving.” A tall man stepped into the room, completely cloaked in an unassuming brown robe. His eyes radiated control– his face shined with every feature unique to a born leader.
The room was also unassuming. Three walls were large and featureless, with only one large wall containing images of Zakum’s defeat, and those of Rodin’s party. Five desks sat in the middle of the room, but only two people were there.
“My lord… I apologize,” the shadowed figure said, standing to his feet and subsequently kneeling.
“I know. You tried to help by controlling him, and you did manage to take out the one Priest,” the cloaked figure said. His mind was obviously on something else as he was talking.
Clenching his fists, Irving spoke. “They’ll bring her back, though, sir. The other Priest has Dispel enough for that,” he said, visibly regretting this oversight.
The cloaked figure looked up, staring into Irving’s eyes. “Were you not watching close enough? Is the rate of darkness you have in this room OBSCURING your vision?”
Irving hung his head, muttering. “But… it’s hard to see with the lights on…”
“Yes, I realize this. Darkness mage, and all that. Maybe your eyes would become accustomed to the light if you trained them.” The cloaked figure clapped once, illuminating the room.
The shadowy figure’s aforementioned shadows were eliminated, revealing a man wearing extremely an gaudy Golden Requiem. “And for Bob’s sake, do you have to dress like that?”
Irving had heard this before. “No, sir.”
The cloaked figure sighed, tossing his gaze at the live image of Rodin over his protege’s shoulder. “It is not important. You missed the fact that the curse was amplified by Zakum’s existing magic power. She’ll be like that for awhile.”
“Oh. So… I did good?,” Irving asked, smiling.
“Not yet. You still must take out the others.”
Irving frowned. “I… was not looking forward to that fact.”
“Yes, but Zakum is… or was, your responsibility.”
“When you kill them, the energy that was re-bound to the balance will liberate itself. It’s absolutely imperative that you kill ALL of them that were present.”
“And if they revive?,” he asked with a fearful tone.
“They will not. But, you have a job to do. I would send one of the others with you, had they not gone to exterminate the last of the old Order.”
“Yeah. I know Brunel would be helpful in taking care of the warrior.”
“…Possibly. Do not fail us, Irving.”
“As long as I draw breath, my loyalty is to the new Order, my lord,” Irving said, saluting and then vanishing into a shadow he’d created under him.
“I know.” The cloaked figure walked over to an empty desk and sat down, sighing. “I’d… always imagined world conquest would be easier than this. Trying to rule a load of murder-centric buffoons while ridding the planet of those that came before us. Heh… Wizet group. Pitiful bunch. So easy to kill. No honor at all.” He leaned back in the chair, contemplating his next move.
“I wonder what the national march of our world order will be.”