15. Diesel
15
DIESEL
O ne of Diesel’s Potionists pleaded for his life.
“Sir, we’ve had reports pouring in all day! I don’t know how this could have happened! I watched the entire process from start to finish, the same way that I always do.”
“If I'm not mistaken, I believe I saw you with your family yesterday at the festival. So how were you watching to make sure nothing went wrong?” Diesel’s voice was calm, but it seemed to terrify the skittish Potionist even more.
When his tone turned indifferent like this, it meant he wasn't contemplating anymore. He had already decided what his next move was. Diesel reached out his hand and grabbed the head of the petrified man before him.
His claws extended and dug into the Potionist’s skull. His screams intensified. With the simplest little squeeze and a pop, the man went silent.
Diesel shook the blood from his fingers and sighed. “I don't care how it happens, I want this mess cleaned up,” he said to his men, and he didn’t mean the blood and gore at his feet. “This didn’t happen because of an error made by anyone here. This was sabotage . Someone came here last night, knowing it would be unsupervised, and tainted my whole supply. Someone I’m going to make sure pays dearly for this.”
Whoever did this, they are very skilled in the art of potion-making, and did a thorough job in tainting every single drop of what I have.
They ruined everything!
Diesel’s head was practically fuming. It took all of his strength not to shift. He knew if he did, he would end up destroying the entire city.
But the more he thought about it, the more he concluded that some mayhem was exactly what was needed…
“If I were a betting man, I’d say the rebels had likely something to do with this,” Diesel went on speculating, cruel and predatory looks spreading among his men at his words. “After this attack, I think it’s fair to return the favor by finally shaking them out of their hidey-holes, don’t you agree, boys?”