It is often said that a person's true nature only reveals itself when they're pushed into a corner, with nowhere to go and nothing left to lose. That when the chips are down, a desperate individual is no different from a wounded animal. Despite the "intelligence" that people pride themselves on—the supposed line that differentiates them from lowly beasts—in the end, we're all just base creatures with more cowardice than sense.
Based on what I've witnessed, I must concede that those who hold this belief have a valid point. The desperate actions I've seen people take when pushed to the edge often confirm this view of human nature, leaving me to wonder about the fragility of our so-called "civility."
"Signum Damnationis," or "marked for damnation" in the common Valentian tongue, is the harshest punishment possible for a living being. In the lower ranks of the organization, there's a saying: "whoever is marked "Signum Damnationis" is already dead—they just don't know it yet". But the truth is, it's far FAR worse than that. "Signum Damnationis" doesn't just mark you alone for death; it condemns your entire bloodline and everyone even loosely connected to the infraction you committed to have their lives forfeited.
No one who violates the Executerii's laws can be allowed to exist. Every footstep they've ever taken upon this planet must be scrubbed clean, all memories of their existence erased, all traces of their identity wiped from the annals of history. The slightest mention of their names must be turned into a curse that none would dare to even whisper, lest they forfeit their own well-being.
I've carried out at least a hundred sentences for those marked "Signum Damnationis" before. In fact, most of the kills I've racked up in my career as an Executerii assassin are of people who were either marked themselves or related to those marked in some way.
Some begged for their lives, some bargained, some threatened, some tried to lure me into a trap, some tried to bump me off before I could do the same to them, so on and so forth...
But do you know what the one similarity between all of them was?
Young, old, healthy, sickly, male, female—they all died the same way.
Screaming, crying, saying their last words, cursing my name… The moment I extinguish the light in their eyes, it all goes silent. No matter the circumstances, time, or place, that silence is implacable.
In their moment of death, I could not find anything different in them compared to the animals they so pridefully stand above.
Perhaps that's how death is supposed to be—silent, equal and soul-crushingly final. Nothing poetic, glorious, heroic or beautiful about it, just an eternity of quiet.
I wonder if our finite, limited lives have any value at all when put up against such an infinite silence that is inevitably coming for us all.
I wonder if my next target will be any different from the rest... Will he cling futilely to his continued existence? Will any of it actually matter after his death?
((Well only one way to find out...))
I thought to myself as I cast my gaze out the airship's window over the clear night sky filled with the glimmering echoes of distant stars.
((It's a dirty job, one with few rewards, but in the end, someone's got to do it. And honestly, without it, I'd have no purpose for even being alive))
I wonder what that says about me as a person...
"We're going to have to drop you here, 001. Any closer, and we'd be encroaching on Coastania's airspace. Normally, resolving this wouldn't be an issue due to the influence the higher ups have, but it might alert Orland to your presence. So, this is your stop."
The operative on my right spoke as his hand hovered over the button to open the door to the outside.
"Understood… I'll complete the rest of the journey on my own."
I replied in my usual deadpan tone.
"Head towards the fortress city of Garellia, about 20 miles from here. It's one of the key strongholds along the Marginot Line, tracing the Red Sea. The "Velvet Tide" was last sighted there"
He explained.
((The Red Sea...a body of water that cuts deeply into the continent, almost splitting it in two before halting at a massive land bridge. This is where the 'Velvet Tide' operates. Smuggling stolen Executerii assets through the Marginot line and possibly even selling confidential information))
I thought to myself going over whatever information I was given during that VERY short briefing.
""Noted. I'll make my way there.""
I replied, maintaining my usual ambivalence, my voice as steady as ever.
"Lastly, and I say this with the utmost sincerity. It's an honor finally putting a face to the 'White Jackal.' I wish you success in your operation."
The operative's voice warmed, a smile spreading across his face as he spoke.
""...""
His words caught me off guard, leaving me in silence. I hadn't anticipated any personal sentiments in this exchange.
((White Jackal?...Oh, right. That's the epithet some Executerii members gave me a while back. Huh...didn't expect someone to bring it up here though))
I mused internally.
""I, uh...""
Before I could think of a proper response—
"Victoria aut oblivione, 001"
The operative saluted, the Executerii mantra rolling off his tongue with a beaming smile.
I recognized that he didn't require a response, so I mirrored the gesture and recited the mantra as well.
""Victoria aut oblivione""
*Bam!*
*EEE!* *EEE!* *EEE!* *EEE!*
The operative's hand slammed down on the button before he bolted towards a nearby secured door, triggering the compartment's red lights and blaring alarms.
*Whoosh whoosh*
The metal door rolled up, and the cold night sucked the air out of the cabin, beckoning me outside, I was only barely able to keep my footing.
Luckily the operative seemed to have already gone into another airlocked room as he gave me a thumbs up from beyond the reinforced glass pane.
""*Inhales*""
I drew a deep breath, stepping forward to the edge.
((Strange...I somehow feel more at ease plunging from 9100 meters in the air than spending time in this airship.))
With that thought, I leaped into the void, the wind roaring past me as the airship—a massive, sleek, steel beast powered by magic—receded from view. Its large, crystalline engines hummed with arcane energy, glowing faintly against the night sky, while its enchanted hull, lined with intricate runes, kept it aloft. The airship's wings, wide and bat-like, adjusted subtly as it maintained its hovering position, its majesty a stark contrast to the darkness below.
My black, long coat billowed out behind me, forming a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the sky—an oddly fitting resemblance to the clouds I was plunging through.
At this altitude, a normal person would be in dire need of specialized equipment: an oxygen mask to combat the thin air, insulated gear to fend off the biting cold etc. The frigid temperatures, the lack of oxygen, and the sheer pressure of free-falling from above the clouds would cause most to lose consciousness, succumbing to hypoxia long before they reached the ground.
But for me, these conditions were nothing more than a fleeting thought. My genetic and biological augmentations rendered the thin air and freezing temperatures inconsequential. I had no need for oxygen tanks or bulky gear. As I descended, slicing through the clouds, I remained entirely conscious, unbothered by the elements that would have crippled anyone else. This was just another mission, another drop, another day in my life.
((Although even for me, hitting the ground at this speed would be less than ideal...I'd rather not waste time regenerating broken bones and ruptured organs. I'll start decelerating my fall with magic at around the 4000 meter mark, just before I reach terminal velocity. That should give me plenty of time to control my descent and land without a scratch))
I thought as I mentally prepared to cast a spell.
((But yeah it's relaxing to have moments like these. The air here feels less oppressive than the airship))
My descent was swift, controlled, as I twisted in the air, orienting myself toward the distant ground. The cold night air stung my face, but it was a welcome sensation—sharp, real, and far more familiar than the stifling atmosphere inside the airship. The wind whistled past, drowning out the thoughts that had cluttered my mind just moments before.
What would be a high-speed dive for most people felt like a serene descent for me. My perception of time, accelerated to nearly eight times that of a normal person, transformed what should have been a frantic plunge into a leisurely glide. To others, it would seem like I was hurtling through the sky, but for me, it was as if I were being delicately carried by the wind, like a leaf drifting on an unseen current.
I was self aware enough to notice the profound disconnect between me and the average joe—where panic and survival instincts would grip the ordinary, I found only a strange, tranquil detachment. My body, engineered and augmented far beyond mankind's limits, operated on a plane so far removed from normal experience that even the sensation of falling felt distant and almost alien to me.
Nonetheless, I enjoyed the serenity of the free fall for as long as I could, drinking in the brief but incredibly sweet period of calm before the storm.
But as is the nature of reality, all good things must come to an end. I noticed the ground coming into view, signaling that I had passed the 4000-meter mark. It was time to start decelerating—quickly.
((*Sighs* Welp... it was nice while it lasted. Time to focus and get to work))
I thought as my expression locked in, my mind sharpening into a singular focus. I extended my left palm toward the ground, violet light beginning to swirl around it as I prepared to cast the spell. The light traced intricate, shifting runes in the air. These runes formed an ethereal casting circle, glowing with the intensity of my will.
(([Anti-Gravitas Well] x 4))
I chanted the name of the spell in my head as the necessary formulas, equations and calculations needed to complete the spell's structure flowed from my intangible consciousness into the very material of my willpower that is the magic circle.
Drawing on the Mesh, I channeled its mana to manipulate the Higgins Field—the underlying force that permeates all of space and governs mass and gravity. The spell [Anti-Gravitas Well] was designed to create localized anti-gravity wells.
As the magic took effect, the very fabric of reality seemed to shift subtly around me.
The Higgins field, now altered by my command, generated 4 orb shaped fields of anti gravity in the path of my fall that sequentially reduced the speed of my free fall in a gradual manner. This field was not a mere absence of force but a complex interaction of gravitons—imaginary particles that adjusted the perceived mass in my immediate vicinity. By reducing the effective mass, I made myself significantly lighter thus reducing my acceleration and mitigating the force of my impact.
In layman's terms the discipline of Gravitomancy involved drawing on the mana of the Mesh to temporarily alter the properties of the Higgins field and create imaginary particles known as Gravitons. Essentially you're tricking the universe into thinking that there are less or more mass in an area than there ACTUALLY are using positive or negative gravitons.
I felt the abrupt change in sensation as my fall gradually slowed. The air around me became less of a relentless force and more of a gentle cushion. I continued to fine-tune [Anti-Gravitas Well], ensuring the anti-gravity wells were stable and effective as I neared the ground. With each moment, my descent softened, transforming what would have been a harsh impact into a controlled and safe landing.
The ground approached at a more manageable pace, and with a final adjustment, I prepared for the landing, my feet touching down on the slightly humid, grassy soil with a gentle *thud* rather than the violent crash that would have otherwise occurred.
"Phew..."
I exhaled, a cloud of white vapor escaping my lips as the biting cold of the high altitude seeped through my coat.
*Clatter clatter*
Small shards of ice and frost broke away from my body, remnants of the icy condensation that had formed on me during the high-speed descent. The intense cold at that altitude had caused moisture to freeze onto my skin and clothing, but as I continued to fall, most of it was dislodged by the force of the wind and the movement, these were only the remnants.
""Ugh...the downside is that there's always crap on my clothes after a free fall""
I dusted them off in a casual manner, slightly annoyed that the frost had made such a mess of my drip but otherwise I was unharmed.
""Ok let's see, where am I right now?""
I already got a good look at the landscape as the sun was dawning when I leaped from the airship but still I decided to take a moment to look around and assess where I was right now in relation to my target destination.
""Okay, there's the Apal Mountain Range I saw on the way down...that peak specifically is called the Finger of God, I believe? So that means Garellia should be to the northeast from here. The nearest main route to Garellia should be the Aurelia Highway, about an hour's walk south of here. It's a major artery connecting the fortress city to other key locations along the Marginot line""
Successfully recognizing where I was, I crouched down for a moment and began to check my equipment before moving out.
*Shing*
I pulled out the ballisong knife hidden in the secret compartment of my coat, flipping it open and closed with practiced ease. Its blade gleamed coldly in the dim light, showing no signs of damage. Next, I retrieved the gravity knife from the hidden compartment in the sole of my shoe. The design of the shoe allowed the blade to be concealed seamlessly, appearing as an ordinary piece of footwear until needed. The knife itself was sleek and deadly, it just looked like an inconspicuous trinket or curio before the blade is deployed. It was also in perfect condition as I slid it back into its compartment.
*Rustle*
Next, I checked the small vials of alchemical stimulants hidden in an inner pocket. Though I didn't want to admit it, their presence was reassuring—each pill would provide a different but crucial edge depending on the situation.
My long coat, dark and weathered, had done its job well. Designed to blend into the environment, its multiple hidden pockets and reinforced seams allowed me to carry my gear discreetly. I adjusted my attire—a simple, worn tunic over fitted trousers—to complete the look of a rugged traveler seeking work in the region. The coat's subtle design and dark color helped it blend into the surroundings, making me appear as nothing more than a wandering laborer.
With everything in place and no sign of damage, I stood up, dusted off my coat, and glanced in the direction of the Aurelia Highway, imagining it stretching like a lifeline towards Garellia, my next destination. The road was well-traveled, perfect for someone trying to blend in.
""Okay, let's go""
I said to myself, setting off towards the highway, ready to begin my mission under the guise of an ordinary traveler.
The one hour walk through the rolling, peaceful hills was uneventful. I half expected to encounter some form of trouble, be it kobolds, ogres, bandits, or heck even a hill giant somewhere. But nothing disturbed my path. Likely, this is because it's the early hour and our proximity to the Marginot Line—Coastania's most fortified and heavily patrolled military zone, in order to keep potential threats at bay. This defensive line, designed to thwart invasions from the Red Sea and the untamed lands south of the continent, effectively discouraged any would-be troublemakers from operating in the vicinity, at least not in the light of day.
It didn't take long for me to reach the Aurelia Highway. The road was a well-trodden stone path, meticulously maintained and wide enough to accommodate both travelers and wagons alike. Its surface was a blend of compacted gravel and cobblestone, with stones carefully laid and bound by a mix of sand and clay to ensure a stable footing. High, sturdy embankments lined the route, preventing erosion and keeping the road clear of debris.
Stone guardrails and occasional wooden signposts marked key points along the way, offering directions and distances. The highway was flanked by well-pruned trees and patches of low shrubbery, providing some shelter and shade. The road's construction and upkeep reflected its significance as a crucial trade and travel route, designed to facilitate the smooth flow of goods and people while also showcasing the strategic importance of the Marginot Line.
""There we go...now let's hope a carriage comes along soon or there's a stable near this place""
I said as I climbed over the guard rail and began walking down the road in the direction of Garellia, hoping to either hitch a ride with a passing carriage or come across a carriage house where I could secure transportation to the fortress city.
Well at the very least that was the original plan...
""!!!""
All of my senses fired off simultaneously as I detected the presence of not one, but two creatures approaching from above.
Before their shadows could even touch the ground around me, my body instinctively jolted into action, diving for cover behind the stone guard rail.
I looked up to see a massive, winged creature descending upon me, its wings stretching wide enough to block out the sun.
"Halt! You there! Traveler!"
An adult woman's voice called out to me, authoritative yet not unkind. She wore Coastania's military uniform—a sailor's cap perched neatly atop her head, and a buttoned-up jacket tailored to fit her form, though it did little to conceal the generous size of her bosom. Beneath the jacket, a dress shirt and tie were tucked crisply, her appearance as sharp as her tone.
She sat astride a massive wyvern, a creature the size of a carriage with bat-like wings that flapped powerfully in the air. Its long, serpentine neck swayed with each movement, lined with scales that gleamed like polished armor under the sunlight. Razor-sharp teeth glinted in its maw, a stark contrast to the soft fur that covered its hind legs and underbelly. The rest of its body was encased in hard, sturdy scales that seemed impervious to all but the most potent of attacks.
((Well, this is convenient...))
I thought to myself, inwardly thanking my luck as I realized I had encountered a Coastanian patrol guard.