Chapter 16 – The Note Written in Blood
The aftermath of the slaughter still lingered in the air, thick and suffocating.
Bodies had been cleared. Blood had dried. Silence had returned.
And yet—
The Unwanted Man remained unseen.
No trace.
No presence.
No mistake.
Sam stood atop an abandoned observatory with Varkhad and the remaining members of Team Slaughter. From this height, the entire city lay beneath them—quiet, unaware, breathing peacefully.
Sam poured wine into two glasses and handed one to Varkhad.
"What do you think?" Sam asked calmly.
"Who's behind all of this?"
Varkhad didn't answer immediately. His jaw tightened.
"I don't know, Master," he finally said. "For the first time… even I can't see the hand moving the pieces."
Night fully settled in.
Unnaturally calm.
Too calm.
For Sam, sleep had long ceased to exist. Ever since a fragment of his sealed power had awakened, every night brought the same sensation—
As if someone, somewhere far away, was whispering his name.
Varkhad suddenly froze.
"Master…"
His voice dropped, heavy with unease.
"Something is wrong."
Sam didn't ask what.
He already felt it.
The air grew colder.
The atmosphere shifted—tinted faintly red, like a warning bleeding into reality.
Team Slaughter instinctively drew their weapons.
Even the spirits hesitated. They sensed it too, yet couldn't understand it.
The entire area fell into a dead silence—
As if the world itself had been muted.
Then—
Between Sam and Varkhad, something appeared.
A folded piece of paper.
It fell gently onto the ground.
Everyone saw it fall—
Yet no one saw where it came from.
It felt as though the paper had always been there… simply waiting to be noticed.
One of the spirits stepped forward—a beautiful spectral warrior holding a great sword. Without a sound, she bent down and picked it up.
Sam took the paper from her hands.
The ink wasn't ink.
It was blood.
Fresh?
No.
Deliberate.
Only one line was written:
"God Slayer… don't waste your time searching for me.
When the time comes, I will come to slit your throat myself."
Below it, another line:
"Until then… everyone who works for you will die by my hands."
Sam's expression didn't change.
Not even slightly.
But Varkhad's aura surged violently, threatening to explode.
"Master," he growled, fury shaking his voice.
"This is a challenge."
Sam folded the paper calmly.
"I'll wait," he said.
"And when you stand before me… I will erase you."
The paper ignited in his hand—burning to ash from nothing but Sam's restrained rage.
Varkhad watched in silence.
Not because Sam was angry—
But because, for the first time in countless battles fought together, Varkhad saw something unfamiliar in Sam's eyes.
Fear.
Sam had always been emotionless.
Fearless.
Unbreakable.
But now—
He had a family.
And this enemy knew it.
"Master…" Varkhad said quietly.
"This is the first man who has ever made you feel… almost without options."
Sam exhaled slowly.
"Cowards hide," he replied. "But they always show themselves eventually."
After a moment, Sam contacted Knightwell and checked on his home.
He stationed additional troops around his family without hesitation.
Later, standing alone, tension heavy in his gaze, Sam lit a cigarette.
The flame trembled slightly.
Far away—
The Unwanted Man sat upon his throne, laughing softly in the shadows.
The next morning, panic erupted in the eastern district of the city.
An abandoned warehouse—long forgotten by trade and law—became the center of fear.
Inside, a body was found.
The markings were unmistakable.
Blood was smeared across the concrete floor, carefully written, deliberate:
"You served the God Slayer.
That alone is enough to take your life."
The man was identified within minutes.
A Red Legion assassin.
The Red Legion—once a name that ruled the underworld.
A dark society.
An assassination organization founded years ago by Sam himself.
In its prime, the Red Legion was untouchable.
Their assassins were silent hunters. Calm. Precise.
To place a bounty through them meant only one thing—a confirmed kill.
They were feared so deeply that people stopped calling them assassins.
They were known as Killers of Shadows.
But time rots even legends.
Years passed, and the Red Legion's name became stained—linked to every crime imaginable.
Then, without warning, their master vanished.
The organization collapsed.
Their influence faded.
Eventually, the Red Legion became nothing more than a myth.
Now—
A corpse lay in a warehouse.
And the myth was bleeding.
The Investigation
Team Slaughter secured the site.
Varkhad led the investigation.
He needed only a single glance.
"…Red Legion," he said quietly.
Sam's eyes darkened.
Red Legion.
So the game had begun.
Sam and Varkhad stood inside the warehouse.
Old codes covered the walls—hand signs, silent signals, forgotten commands.
"These men," Varkhad said, "were never just assassins."
"They were a system."
"Cells within cells."
"A society that existed for one purpose… under one name."
Sam finally spoke.
"We have nothing to do with them anymore."
"This is their matter."
"Let them handle it."
With that, Team Slaughter withdrew.
But Sam couldn't forget the note.
One Death… Then Another
Days passed.
Every night—
Another body.
An ex-Legion commander.
An intel broker.
A man whose only crime was connection.
Each scene carried the same message:
God Slayer is not forgotten.
The media called it serial killing.
The guilds called it a turf war.
Sam knew better.
This was personal.
Pressure Builds
One night, Varkhad stood before Sam, tension sharp in his voice.
"Master… if this continues, half of the Red Legion's remaining network will be wiped out."
Sam replied coldly.
"Maybe that's his plan."
"He's provoking me."
"Forcing me… to release power."
Sam stepped onto the balcony.
"If I do," he continued, "others will sense it."
The Truth
Varkhad hesitated, then spoke.
"There's more."
Sam turned.
"Since your seal cracked… ancient beings are waking."
"They don't know your name."
"But they know this—the God Slayer lives."
Sam's fist tightened.
So this wasn't just one enemy.
This was the beginning.
Somewhere Else
Far away, in a dark chamber, a figure stood alone.
A list rested in his hand.
Names crossed out.
One by one.
A quiet laugh echoed.
"Red Legion…"
"You spilled blood for the God Slayer."
"Now you'll die in his name."
He circled the next name.
Sam's.
"Until you come for me…"
"I'll burn your entire world."
Sam stood alone, cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.
If the Red Legion continued to fall, it wouldn't matter what they had become—
They were still his people.
And this had to stop.
Who was this man?
What did he want?
The smoke drifted into the night as Sam's eyes hardened.
The hunt had changed.
And this time—
The shadows were being hunted.
Who is the Unwanted Man?
A forgotten enemy… or someone Sam once trusted?
And if the Red Legion keeps dying—
will the God Slayer finally break his silence?