Chapter 198 - The Third Assassin

  "What happeo you?!" Kinue excimed upon seeing me, dropping a cup to the floor of the apartment as a worried expression spread across her face.

  Chloe and I had spent the weekend at the mansion but returned early so as not to be te for our csses at the Academy. Kinue hadn’t been with us during those days since she seemed to be going through a period of sensitivity. As a demi-human, her bestial form sometimes brought side effects like fatigue, pain, and drowsiness. It henomenon that occurred while her body was still growing, both in her humanoid aial forms, until one day, as an adult, it would stop.

  I had learned most of these things from living with Cyl and such ges in her physical aional state. Kinue, oher hand, was more reserved when dealing with these crises. Sometimes, her animal instincts would fre up. I remember a time when we were younger, and she jumped on my back, pinnio the ground. Back then, I didn’t uand the reason, but now I know it was reted to her instincts. My phoenix friend, oher hand, sometimes bees extremely jealous aorial.

  “You look terrible!” Kinue rushed over to me, her eyes fixed on my bandaged arms.

  The healing potion had treated about 80% of my external injuries, but some burns still remained. Inside, I could feel my bones slowly regeing. It was a strange sensation, hearing the cray body realigning itself. Most of the pain had subsided, but a trace of disfort lingered.

  My past training as an assassin had prepared me to endure a lot of pain. They had even y fingers before, only to help reattach them using a healing potion. Even so, I was always amazed by the potion’s effectiveness and healing magic.

  "It was a sudden mission…" I said, trying to reassure her.

  Her eyes sparkled with a mix of and faint sadness. She held my hand, her cold fingers trasting with the warmth of her touch. I felt embarrassed for a moment. A part of me wao protect her from this world, to keep Kinue from feeling obligated to fight alongside us. Over the past two years, she had withdrawn from field missions due to the academy, and Chloe and I had promised not to burden her with these responsibilities again.

  "It's because…" I tried to expin, but her narrowed eyes showed doubt.

  "You’re keepi, aren’t you?" Her voice was ced with hurt. "I k!"

  “It’s not like that,” I tried to expin, but it was clear she wasn’t vinced.

  Kinue sighed, and the sadness became palpable.

  "I worked so hard to get stronger… Am I weak? I'm sorry… I thought I had improved." She sat on a nearby chair, her shoulders slumped, her gaze fixed on the floor.

  “You’re not weak, Kinue; we hought that about you.”

  She remained silent for a few seds, abs my words, but didn’t seem vinced. “I tried talking to Chloe about what the missions were like without me, but she always avoided the topic…”

  Kinue looked up, and the weight of her words hit me hard.

  “I promised to be your personal maid, yours and hers, remember?” Her voice was filled with emotion, a reminder of a promise we made in the past.

  “I remember…” I replied, feeling ashamed.

  She stood up and approached me with a mixture of determination and sadness. "If you think I’m weak, fine… I’ll prove y and ge that." Her haly touched my injured arm. "But until then, I'll still be a maid… even if just an ordinary one."

  Before I could respond, she leaned down and kissed my bandaged hand, surprising me and making me blush slightly.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, feeling awkward.

  "I heard it helps with healing," she said, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Now, e on. I’ll make you breakfast, and I’ll have everything ready by the time Chloe finishes getting dressed."

  She gently pushed me toward the kit.

  "I'll pamper you a little. If you don’t see me as a warrior maid… then at least let me be your ordinary maid."

  Quinn:

  I was anxious about the sile had been days without any news from the other two assassins. Our mission was simple and clear: assassihan Evenhart. While they hahe abdu, I was in charge of the killing. We pnned every step with precision, dividing tasks to avoid suspi and ensuring our alibis were foolproof. After all, orchestrating the death of a high-ranking noble was a crime no one in their right mind would dare to it on this ti.

  The pn erfect.

  Nathan Evenhart wouldn’t just be killed. His death was to be staged as the result of his own vices and recklessness. First, he’d disappear for a few days, drugged a away fr eyes. , we would begin his "jourhrough vilges and taverns around the city of Apsalon. To the public, he’d just be a wealthy young man enjoying his freedom, drinking and indulging in shady brothels. In the end, we’d return to the city, and he’d die of an overdose in some random street in Apsalon. The beauty of the pn y in the doubts it would create. No one would know for certain how he really died or where he’d been while he was missing.

  The kingdom would surely iigate Nathan Evenhart's suddeh, especially if it was from something as ued as a drug overdose. However, we had meticulously phe sario. As the iigatiressed, the clues would lead iigators to discover that he had spent days "enjoying" brothels and bars, always appearing drunk and drugged. Everything would be carefully staged to make it seem like Nathan Evenhart, a young noble, had succumbed to the excesses of his wealth and freedom.

  To iigators, it would be a cssic tale of a spoiled brat ign his responsibilities to indulge in worldly pleasures, only to meet a tragid avoidable end.

  The key to esg an iigation is to e happens—but that it’s ducted on your own terms. Fragmenting the clues, providing just enough information to mislead iigators, and allowing them to draw false clusions was the essence of how an assassin should operate.

  Nathan Evenhart, despite being a mage with a rare element, was nothing more than an inexperienced farmer. Ricardo and Eliza, my partners, were extremely powerful mages, trained assassins with precision. Any attempt by Nathan Evenhart to face them would, at the very least, seal his death.

  "At least… that’s what I thought..." I murmured to myself, taking in the se of devastation stretg across the forest.

  The rain had been fallilessly for days, transf the world arouo an o of darkness and chaos. Thick clouds domihe sky, an oppressive curtain showing no signs of clearing. Lightning sliced through the air, followed by deafening thuhat reverberated across the gloomy ndscape, shaking the ground and uling even the bravest of souls.

  The journey here had beeremely challenging. The already rough roads had turned into muddy trails, with deep, treacherous puddles. Ued waterfalls cascaded from higher ground, f torrents that threateo sweep away aempting to cross. The horses, usually faithful and obedient, were visibly distressed, neighing in fear at each thundercp that exploded above our heads.

  Along the way, I entered groups of people seeking refuge in taverns and inns. The versations were dominated by fear of the relentless storm that seemed never-ending. Men and women spoke of floods and signs of ill omen.

  The forest was now enveloped in a thick fog that slithered betweeree trunks like a living creature. Visibility was limited, the air heavy with moisture, and an eerie silence lingered, broken only by the sound of heavy raindrops striking the foliage. The fog made the path even more treacherous, creating indistinct shadows and vague figures that could be either branches or something more menag.

  When I finally reached the site, I was overwhelmed by surprise aion. The pce was in a miserable state: water had invaded every er, turning the ground into a muddy s. What might have been solid terrain before was now a sea of mud and deep puddles, making each step a struggle.

  The smell of dampness and slightly burned wood filled the air as the rain tio fall mercilessly, intensifying the sense of abando and despair that emanated from the pce. Fallen trees blocked parts of the path, their roots exposed by the force of the rushing waters, while bare branches swayed ominously uhe howling wind.

  The desote ndscape was a mix of darkness aation, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst was yet to e.

  I walked for hours, exhaustion weighing on my shoulders as I tried to map the exact site of the battle. The devastation was terrifying: trees had been uprooted, others buro their core, while some bore strange marks orunks, like scars from some supernatural force. The trail of destru was impossible to ighe forest seemed to have been torn from its serenity and transformed into an abandoned battlefield.

  “There’s no way Ricardo and Eliza could have lost to that boy…” I murmured to myself, incredulous, as I touched a tree with a rge bck stain on its trunk. The wood wasn’t burned, but there was something sinister about the mark—as if it had been struck by a tremendous magical force.

  Eliza’s fire? Or maybe the boy’s thunder?

  The rain fell incessantly, like a cold veil that refused to relent. The heavy drops struck the leaves and the muddy ground, plig my search for clues. Water mixed with mud, making each step a challenge, but I couldn’t stop. I o uand what had truly happened here.

  I found a wide trail of pletely scorched and bed trees, a path of destru left by a giant fire jet.

  Before me, a vast swath of pletely burned and bed trees stretched through the forest, like a deep scar on the ndscape. The smell of charred wood was still pu, even as the torrential rain tried to wash away the traces of chaos. It was as if a colossal fire jet had bzed through, mercilessly ing everything in its path.

  The se was desote: broken trunks, scorched to their core. Twisted trees, shredded by extreme heat, stood like bck shadows against the gray mist.

  Even with the flooded terrain and the marshes formed by the storm, I had no doubt who could have caused such devastation.

  “Eliza’s Soul Golem…” I muttered, reizing the familiar signature of the devastating power. That giant samander, imbued with a unique destructive force, was capable of leaving such a fiery trail.

  The path was wide and direct, a sileament to the intetle that must have taken pce here. The Soul Golem was one of Eliza’s deadliest ons, a creature of fire and fury capable ing anything in its path with its bzing power. And now, seeing the destru before me, I feared the worst had happened.

  Ricardo and Eliza fought with everything they had, I thought, trying to imagihe iy of the frontation.

  Ricardo and Eliza were seasoned assassins, not the type of fighters who would fall easily, especially in direbat. Our basic rule had always been to never ask about each other's lives; it was an essential prote to keep our civiliaies intact. I was the tact, the liween them and the ts. They did the dirty work while I remained in the shadows, managing the tracts and keeping them invisible to the world.

  I felt a tightness in my chest, a weight that grew heavier with eaew sign of destru. It was impossible not to be ed by .

  "For Nathan Evenhart’s sake, I hope he’s dead," I murmured. "And that my sister, Eliza, is merely missing, hiding somewhere due to severe injuries..."