Rebirth Of The Bastard Spirit Summoner

The journey to Sandhill continued unfettered, and by nightfall, they arrived at the city.

After thanking them, the merchant passed him a few coins for their troubles and waved them goodbye, leaving them on the busy street of Sandhill.

As though the sunset was held in stasis, the city was bright with a warm yellow glow, the work of countless oil lamps and magic crystals, doing their best to chase the darkness.

Sandhill was not a rich city by any means, and there were beggars almost at every corner, dark alleys laden with petty thieves and homeless children up and about, trying to gather money for their next meal.

But the city wasn't the worst, it was livable at the very least.

Carriages ploughed the stone road, the tapping sound of horse hooves, combining with the quiet chatter all around them to create a lively atmosphere.

"How come it is called Sandhill?" Jade asked from beside him.

Stark began walking and she followed. "The main source of income is the city's rock quarry. They export granite for construction and due to the endless mining, a part of the city is always covered in stone dust."

He had visited the place a few times when Darell felt like boasting of his achievements.

Now that he was on the topic of Darell…

Now that he had arrived in Sandhill, he had to somehow infiltrate Darell's mansion and become a member of his staff.

He was not strong enough to power through his knights and kill him, and frankly, Stark did not like that approach.

He wanted Darell to die when he felt safest, when he felt untouchable. That was the moment he would strike.

But for now… he needed to get to an inn to spend the night.

"There's an inn not too far from here." He said, still walking. "We'll pass the night there and get our bearings tomorrow."

"…"

Jade did not respond, instead Stark heard her footsteps cease. He paused and turned to look at her, Jade was a few feet away from him.

She looked to the side, not meeting his gaze at first, it was as though she was lost in thought.

"Jade?"

She slowly glanced up and sighed. "I'm not going."

If Stark was to say he wasn't surprised, then he would be lying.

But then again, she had been in that cave for decades, now that she was finally out she definitely had things to do and places to see.

He had forgotten himself in the moment, enjoying their exploits far too much that automatically assumed she would help him out with his revenge.

Their time surviving in the forest together, the days of trekking, everything had gone to his head.

"Sure, take care of yourself."

Stark turned and began walking away, there were a lot of things he had to cross out of his checklist.

First, he needed to visit a healer. Although his wounds had mostly healed, he needed to be 100 percent for what was to come.

He had already walked a few steps when he heard Jade call out to him, he stopped.

A little hope blossomed within him…

"Stark."

There was a short pause and he turned.

Jade had one finger lifted up. "Just once, you're allowed to summon me once."

The hope died instantly.

Maybe she was being considerate, or maybe she just wanted to be nice. She didn't have to, since their contract did not compel her to, but she did it anyway.

Still, there was one question lingering at the back of his mind.

A question that carried more weight than he expected. His best friend was now his sworn enemy, his betrothed was gone and so were his nieces.

As strange as it sounds, even though they had known each other for such a short time, Jade was the closest thing he had to a friend right now.

"When I leave the city… will you come with me?"

Jade was as stoic as always, she seemed to consider his words for a time before speaking. "No."

Stark nodded and left.

He was once again alone.

Now it was only him and his obsessive thirst for vengeance.

It was better that way.

• • •

Unknown location, Sandhill

In a dimly lit room sat a middle-aged man, his hands resting on his desk.

His face was serious, with what looked like a permanent scowl on his face. A scar steeled down his cheek like lightning, distorting his features, and his well-built frame pushed against his shirt that was two sizes too small.

Edward Backwoods, an important figure in the underground community of Sandhill.

He picked up a cigar and lit it, taking a drag before puffing out the white smoke.

Just then, the door creaked open.

A man with long black hair and a shifting gaze walked in, and slowly walked to the desk.

"What?" asked Edward.

The man lowered his head in greeting. "We have received a message from a particularly esteemed customer."

Edward sat up straight, his ears tingling at the sound of business.

"Yes, what does he want? Does he like what we got him last time?"

The man smiled. "Yes, but he is requesting more, he wants them highly skilled and dangerous. His exact words were 'someone capable of taking on a paragon.'"

Edward frowned and rose to his feet. "That fool, someone that strong will never be a slave!"

He ran his hand through his beard and then chuckled darkly. "We are expecting a new batch of slaves soon though…"

Then it clicked in his mind. Even if they did not have slaves of that level, he could probably convince the lord to get a few bodyguard slaves.

Maybe even tap into his innate lustful side, although he was out of elves, there were a number of beauties in his possession.

Edward laughed, his voice booming in the room. He could practically taste the flood of gold coins already!

"Take out a pen and write this down!"

The man swiftly picked up a pen and paper, positioning himself on the desk.

—Dear Lord Darell…