[BETA-READ / Side Project] RoU | B1 | Chapter 2 (Patreon)

(Be advised that this book contains a dark setting, strong romance, and explicit scenes. I do not recommend it for anyone under 18.)

Rise of the Unbound / Book 1: The Blade and The Pawn

• Cover / synopsis: https://www.patreon.com/posts/141212971

• Prologue: https://www.patreon.com/posts/141378684

IMPORTANT:

• This is the draft of a fiction I plan to release on either amazon or KU one day. Feel free to rip me apart in the comment section!

• If you like it, you're also welcomed to leave a like or a comment!

• I'll try to post 1 or 2 chapters per week, but can't make any promises. Ascension of the Primalist is my priority!

Chapter 2: New Contract

A flawless stone.

The words hung in the air as Seven's mind raced to find the catch. That thing was priceless. Why waste so many coins on him? Sure, it would guarantee the Iron Claws a new Weaver, but was it really worth it?

Kaiser himself had been forced to use a standard one decades ago and failed. 

The only other Weaver in the entire guild was the Butcher, who was still stuck in the gas stage despite all the years. His meager control over fire barely qualified him to be called a Pyrosmith. His only real use was heating the forges to craft better blades to train people.

“Why?” Seven finally asked, the single word cutting through the silence. “You could put that money elsewhere instead.”

Kaiser leaned back, steepling his fingers. “The guild has grown as large as the slums will allow. To expand our operations into the city proper, we need Hounds who can stand against the nobles’ stronger pets. What happens if one of those wealthy houses sends a Skyrider in the dew stage after one of my shipments? A bastard like that could slice your throat from the rooftops before you even knew he was there.”

Seven remained silent, though a bitter laugh wanted to escape his lips. A few months ago, he’d put down one of those on a side contract to earn some extra coins. A clean and silent kill in a rain-swept alley. 

Once the astra in a Weaver’s core had condensed from thin wisps into suspended drops, they were supposed to be significantly better at exploiting their element. And yet it hadn’t been that difficult for him.

Enough preparation and stealth, and that noble lackey had been dead in less than a second. 

Dew or gas, it didn’t matter if they didn’t have the time to cast a single spell. But Kaiser didn’t know about that contract, and Seven had no intention of telling him.

“I’m giving the other Hounds stones,” Kaiser continued. “Five percenters. With some luck, one or two might awaken alongside you. But I need a guarantee. A sure thing.”

“You could hire trained Weavers,” Seven retorted. “Buy a few Skyriders of your own.”

“I could,” the leader of the Iron Claws conceded. “But they wouldn’t be you.”

The words were an obvious calculated piece of praise, meant to sound like respect. Yet Seven knew they hid something. The man before him wasn’t emotional. Every decision he made was for his own benefit, never for anyone else’s.

“And what if I still die during the awakening? Or it turned out to become a Tidecaller. I'd be useless in Seraklieus.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Kaiser said with a shrug. “Besides, if you awaken with a rare element and become a Sunpriest or a Soulwarden, you’ll become an even greater asset to the guild. I’ll make back my investment fivefold from your services alone.”

Seven's jaws tightened; he had no desire to be either of those. Sunpriests were little more than healer-slaves, kept by noble houses to mend their children’s scraped knees. And Soulwardens… they were contract enforcers. Their control over the dark element allowed them to craft those bindings that could cripple a man with a single drop of blood.

He knew that from personal experience, like most people in this building. 

A month after the Butcher had finished breaking him, a Soulwarden had been called. Like every other Hound, Seven had been forced to sign a 'predatory contract'—not the kind used for slaves and women like Jorun’s daughter. Hounds were too dangerous. They could fight back. They could kill.

The dark astra in their contracts didn’t need a breach to be activated; there was no exchange, no clause to violate. It was simpler, and far more vicious. A single squeeze of the parchment was all it took for any Weaver to inflict crippling pain on them. 

That was how they kept them obedient. How they prevent Seven from slicing all of their necks.

The Butcher, being the guild's only Weaver, held all those leashes and yanked them whenever he pleased. For eight years, Seven had dreamed of killing the man and escaping with that contract. But the bastard was always in the Iron Claws headquarters surrounded by dozens of guild members. And with Seven's own impending death, it all felt pointless.

Until now.

“How many years?” he asked with a flat voice.

“Ten,” Kaiser answered. “Ten more years on your contract.”

A flawless stone was worth five thousand silver on the black market. That meant five hundred for each year of Seven's life. Kaiser’s grin dug into his scarred cheeks. 

“But I’m a reasonable man. If you somehow happen to come up with ten times that stone’s value, I’ll let you cancel the whole thing.”

Fifty thousand silvers. An absurd sum. The man wanted to make a fortune off Seven's back—or chain him for an additional decade. But what was the alternative? Drop dead on a stage in four days? All so the Black Merchants could take his corpse minutes later?

This offer could guarantee his survival. 

The price was more years in a cage, but at least he’d live. And if I awakened as a Skyrider, he could become an even deadlier assassin. Maybe even earn his freedom. He had to believe that. To keep his sanity.

Seven met Kaiser’s gaze, the silence stretching between them once more. Finally, he gave the man a single nod. “I’ll do it. Call the Soulwarden.”

Kaiser’s smile broadened even more. “He’s already on his way.”

******

The man arrived in less than thirty minutes. Kaiser had probably been confident that Seven would accept his offer.

The Soulwarden that stepped in bore the wrinkled face of a man in his late fifties, with eyes that held the dull look of someone who had seen every single form of despair. He carried no weapons, but the air around him felt both cold and still.

Without a word, he unrolled a heavy sheet of parchment on Kaiser’s desk. He glanced at Seven, his eyes lingering for a fraction of a second before meeting Kaiser’s gaze. The look was devoid of emotion, but the question within it was as clear as if he’d spoken it aloud: 'Does your little weapon even know how to read?'

Ignoring the silent insult, Seven moved forward and leaned over the desk. His eyes scanned the piece of parchment, dissecting each of the black-written clauses.

It was far more complex than the contract the Butcher had forced him to sign eight years ago. The one currently laying before him was a transaction. One that blended the normal Hounds’ contract and the paralyzing ones for the slaves. It stated that he, the signatory, would serve the ‘owner of the contract’ for a total of twelve years, canceling the previous agreement.

The core of the document remained the same: a mechanism that allowed any Weaver holding the scroll to inflict excruciating pain for any reason they judged reasonable. The ultimate leash. One couldn't run away when that piece of parchment could turn their nerves to fire.

Then came the faint glimmer of hope: a buy-out of fifty thousand silvers. But a few lines later, eight small words made Seven grit his teeth: ’at the sole discretion of the contract's owner.’

Kaiser could simply refuse.

“This won’t do,” Seven said, pointing to the parchment. “The buy-out must be binding. Remove the part saying he could refuse.”

Kaiser grimaced, and a hint of annoyance flashed into his eyes. He was probably mad that one of the guild’s bedwarmers had taught a gutter rat to read.

The contract enforcer, however, simply nodded. 

He reached out and rubbed his thumb over the discretionary part of the clause. Seven tensed, thinking it was a trick with ink, but the script dissolved like smoke under the man’s touch. The Soulwarden then pulled out a quill. As he brought it to the parchment, shadows swirled from its nib and wove themselves into the dark words.

Once he finished the correction, he shot Kaiser a look. A silent rebuke for the attempted deceit. With the terms set, the Soulwarden then slid the parchment toward Seven.

Seven took a small blade from his belt and nicked the tip of his finger, squeezing a single drop of blood onto the signature line. Kaiser mirrored the gesture, then reached into the inner pocket of his coat and withdrew a worn, folded scroll. “The old one,” he said simply, handing it to the Soulwarden.

Seven knew it was his. He could feel the faint tug of the invisible shackle that bound him.

Wasting no time, the Soulwarden spread both parchments flat on the table and placed his hands upon them. The next instant, the air in the room shifted, turning frigid and heavy. Tendrils of shadow erupted from his palms and coiled around the contracts like chains. The words on the new one flared with violet light, forcing Seven's eyes to narrow into slits.

Then the old contract caught fire. Blue flame devoured the parchment, curling it inward until it vanished into a handful of drifting ash. The glow on the other soon dimmed, and the shadows slid back into the Soulwarden’s hands.

Just like that it was done. Ten more years of Seven's life. Sold in less than a minute.

For a fleeting moment, he considered driving his blade in Kaiser’s throat and the Soulwarden’s to take the contract and leave the city. But that'd be foolish. Taking on the Dark Weaver and Kaiser at once was impossible. At least without a proper setup.

The man held the contract for an instant as his gaze slid toward Seven. There was no trace of pity in his eyes—only the detached indifference of someone who hadn’t chained a man, but a tool. A weapon. 

Then he rolled it and handed it to Kaiser, who took the scroll with a triumphant grin and tossed over a pouch that clinked with coins.

The moment the enforcer caught it, he gave a curt nod and walked out of the office.

Seven watched him go. For a second, he considered following him. To ask about the curse and confirm if the stone would truly work. But he stopped himself. If purity weren't the answer, nothing would save him from the deadly rejection in a few days.

"Well, now," Kaiser began, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he tossed a velvet-wrapped object to Seven. "Twelve more years together."

Seven caught the bundle. It felt heavy. And cold. The stone.

"Don't celebrate yet," he answered, pocketing the thing. "If this doesn't work, you just bought yourself a very expensive corpse."

"I have faith in you, Seven." Kaiser grinned while leaning back. "You're too stubborn to die."

Seven didn't answer and instead turned to walk out of the office, the door shutting behind him with a heavy thud. He moved through the main hall, ignoring the noise of the guild members surrounding him. 

He had the stone.

Now, he could just hope that he'd survive the awakening.

-------

Next --> Chapter 3: https://www.patreon.com/posts/145297913