Gabi Merchant Guild (5): Blood of the Abyss
As Mazhar had confidently assured them, no one tried to stop Kriel's group from heading to see Tushkin Gabi. The mansion's servants merely cast sympathetic glances at Mazhar without blocking their path, and his two older siblings seemed to have not returned to the estate.
Deep within the mansion, following Mazhar's lead, they encountered two lightly armed mages. These were apparently both bodyguards protecting the bedridden Tushkin and medical personnel ready for any emergencies.
"Young Master Mazhar."
"How is Father doing?"
"He briefly opened his eyes and took some water. But he's fallen asleep again."
The mages eyed the group following Mazhar with faces tinged with fatigue and heightened wariness. They were somewhat familiar with Armed, but Kriel and Morgina were new faces. Morgina's attire was the textbook garb of a priestess, so most of their caution was directed at Kriel. It was inevitable—anyone carrying three swords around was bound to be treated as a potential threat anywhere.
"These are the people I called for treatment."
"You'll have to leave all weapons behind."
Kriel obediently unbuckled and set down his three swords. 'The sword and knight are inseparable!' Tuon's whining echoed in his ear. Even after removing the blades, the inspection wasn't over. The mages cast various spells used to screen assassins: metal detection, poison detection, and even the instinctive abyss detection spell, though it served little practical purpose.
Kriel was newly impressed by the Champion necklace Morgina had given him. It did give a sensation of overall bodily compression, but to suppress the risks of drifting toward the abyss so dramatically with just that...
"You may enter."
It was a short but tedious procedure. Mazhar opened the door to the room where his father lay. The old man's complexion was pallid. His skin clung to his bones like it might stick, limp and sagging, with no vitality in the veins showing beneath. Instead of a healthy flush, a corpse-like pallor lingered.
Tushkin Gabi's eyelids twitched once. But the gaze beyond them resembled the unfocused eyes of a dead fish more than a human's.
'In terms of lacking vitality, it's the closest to my own appearance.' It was serious. Considering Kriel often got remarks like "Are you undead?", for a living person not tainted by the abyss to look like that was truly dire. If he were tainted by the abyss, it wouldn't be such a big deal. That would just be his own fault for crawling into it willingly.
"I'll check his pulse."
Morgina, minding her manners in front of others, obtained Mazhar's permission before taking Tushkin Gabi's pulse. Armed wandered the corners of the room, holding a pendulum-like weight that looked intricately crafted from gemstone, carefully observing its swings.
Kriel watched Tushkin Gabi. For now, nothing particularly unusual stood out.
Mazhar sat in a chair in one corner of the room, waiting for the diagnosis in a posture accustomed to resignation and anticipation.
"Young Master Mazhar. Are there any special artifacts worn by the patient?"
"Ah, yes. The clothes he's wearing have vitality-boosting effects, and each ring has fever-reduction or pain-relief magic. The fabrics are all consecrated to mitigate the abyss curse."
"May I attempt to draw some blood?"
"What? W-what are you saying? Such barbaric treatment on the patient...!"
"Mazhar."
Armed, who had been checking corners with her gemstone pendulum, turned her head. Her complicated feelings toward Morgina remained, but her sense of duty as a professional took precedence.
"You might have forgotten amid the impressive destruction she showed in that duel trial, but she's a saintess. She's not some brutish amateur who'll kill someone over drawing a drop or two of blood."
Oh. Kriel inwardly admired it. They always bickered for some reason, yet here they were defending each other on this topic. In a way, it was one of the positive functions of the abyss. No matter how bad the relationship between people, facing the abyss made them shout "Temporary alliance!" There was a tacit societal consensus that nothing was worse than the abyss.
Mazhar, after some internal conflict, nodded. Morgina shaped her own blood into a sharp scalpel form. She took Tushkin Gabi's right hand and carefully pricked the tip of his index finger. A single drop of blood fell with a plip.
Morgina caught the falling droplet on a silver tray she produced from somewhere, adjusting its angle this way and that while intently observing the blood's movement.
It was from this moment that Kriel sensed something off. Detection of the abyss through holy power differed somewhat from Kriel's own sensing. If priestly detection was like a chemistry experiment—confirming the unique violent annihilation reaction when the abyss met holy power—then Kriel's was more like a magnet. Just as two magnets naturally attract or repel upon nearing each other, within a certain range, he simply became aware of the abyss's presence. Like demagnetizing a magnet with special treatment, his detection could theoretically be nullified with specific measures.
'But why now...?'
The presence of the abyss, unfelt until just moments ago, now made itself known. Starting from the instant Morgina caught the blood droplet on the silver tray.
Clues began connecting in Kriel's mind one by one. Hadn't they said Tushkin Gabi's patient robes were made entirely of consecrated fabric? Just like how Kriel's Champion emblem masked his Dark Knight presence. The moment the blood separated from the body and landed on the tray, beyond the robes' protective range, the abyss's aura became detectable.
Kriel strode toward Mazhar with purposeful steps. Then he whispered lowly.
"Horse."
"What?"
Mazhar couldn't grasp the meaning. But with the abyss right before them, faster action was paramount, so instead of explaining, Kriel raised his fist and charged at Tushkin.
"No, you madman! Stop!"
Tushkin Gabi heard familiar footsteps. It was his youngest son. Overlaid with the son's steps were unfamiliar ones, meaning he'd brought more people to "treat" him yet again. Poor boy.
This father had never been cursed or fallen ill from the start.
Tushkin smiled inwardly with eyes closed. Mazhar, his youngest, had committed the filial impiety of not dying when he should have, but now he could generously forgive that. Since the demon he served desired chaos, the family had to be burned for it. His death was the means to ignite the family feud.
Originally, he should have killed Mazhar long ago to sow discord, but with so much time passed, the plan had to adapt. If Tushkin Gabi's aged body died, his older sons Jaren and Arshika would fight over the Gabi house. The fracturing of the Gabi family would be the first step in the chaos descending upon the imperial merchant world.
Tushkin had been tasked by his master with properly orchestrating that chaos. He planned to take Mazhar's body instead of his worn-out one. Stir discord between Jaren and Arshika, then use Tushkin's legacy as bait in Mazhar's body to plunge the imperial merchants into upheaval.
While seeking the right moment to seize Mazhar's body, he realized the guests Mazhar brought this time were unwelcome. Armed, leader of that ridiculous Abyss Prevention Society—which he'd sponsored precisely to distort their research direction. And accompanying her was a repulsive priestess. There was also a knight with an oddly familiar face, probably the priestess's guard.
But even with a priestess present, Tushkin felt no fear. He'd long devised ways to conceal the abyss's grace from holy power. As expected, the priestess hadn't detected his true nature. She'd likely dismiss the faint traces in his blood as mere curse remnants.
As he inwardly savored his satisfaction, a sound that shouldn't echo in the room pierced his ears—the rapid footfalls of someone charging straight at him. From the sound, it was aimed directly at Tushkin.
Before Tushkin could react, before he could even open his eyes once, Kriel's tightly clenched fist smashed into the face of the elderly abyss spawn.