The assassin's teeth ground audibly as he snarled, ripping three daggers free from his belt and hurling them at me in a spread—center, left, right.
I flicked the wooden sword up, parrying the center dagger with a satisfying clang. The other two I ignored, sidestepping as the assassin's grin widened.
"Fool!" he barked, his voice dripping with triumph.
Shadows surged from the other two daggers, solidifying into dark, sinewy tendrils. With a dramatic sweep of his arms, he whipped the shadow-daggers back toward me, their momentum aimed at both my sides.
I didn't flinch.
Two of my [Construct] energy balls pulsed to life, repelling the daggers mid-flight and sending them spinning harmlessly into the night.
"Nice trick," I said, twirling the wooden sword in a lazy circle. "I thought you were an assassin, not a juggling clown."
The insult hit its mark.
"Woman!" the assassin roared, the word like venom on his tongue. He lunged forward, twin streams of daggers erupting from his hands, his [Marionette] skill making them dance in the air like leaves caught in a gale.
They hurtled toward me in every direction—chaotic, relentless.
I parried some with the wooden sword, ducked under others, and stepped through the gaps in the storm with practiced ease. The assassin laughed, the sound tinged with mania.
"Keep dancing, little girl!" he jeered, vanishing into the shadows as his arsenal ran dry.
I finished deflecting the last dagger, letting it clatter to the stone bridge, then stood still. My eyes scanned the area, my breathing slow and even.
"You fool!" His voice came from behind me, gloating.
I felt the telltale ripple of his presence rising from my shadow, his daggers poised to pierce my back.
I gasped, mock-surprised, then smiled, sticking out my tongue. "You might want to look up."
His head snapped upward just in time to see the blade of light descending.
The radiant sword speared through his skull with a sickening crack, pinning him to the stone like a grotesque skewer. His body twitched once, then went limp.
I willed the sword to vanish, and the light dissipated like embers in the wind. Exhaustion clawed at me as I dropped onto his corpse, my chest heaving.
"Pricey," I muttered, feeling the strain in my Origin reserves. Half my points gone in an instant. There went the dream of spamming gatling-gun energy bullets anytime soon.
A ding echoed in my mind, a cascade of notifications rolling through my vision. But one caught my attention—a chilling offer from my emblem.
[Do you wish to absorb the corpse (Assassin: Grey Cloak) as energy? Y/N]
I stared at the notification, my stomach twisting. The emblem wasn't just terrifying—it was merciless. Still, I was low on Origin, and the warding barrier wouldn't fall for another eight minutes.
"Fine," I whispered, clicking yes.
The moment I accepted, the body beneath me began to decompose. I scrambled off, watching in morbid fascination as flesh withered and dissolved, leaving behind no smell, no trace—just raw energy.
It flowed into me, a warm, electrifying rush. My Origin reserves ticked upward by 100 points, and I felt the faintest tug from my emblem, inching closer to the next rank.
Still, I couldn't shake the unease. I'd killed over a million people in my past life, but this… this was different. This was consuming them, turning their very existence into fuel.
The ding sounded again, breaking my thoughts. A final notification marked the disappearance of the corpse:
[You have defeated an assassin.]
Ten times over.
Where the body had been, a scroll lay untouched.
Curious, I picked it up.
[You have received: Used Scroll of Contract.]
It was battered, the parchment stained with blood. Most of the writing was illegible, but three key details stood out:
The name of the UnderWorld,
the Association of Assassins.
The employer: Merchant X.
The contract: the elimination of Lord Alexander's children.
Of course. They'd mistaken me for some kind of guardian. I'd inadvertently thrown myself into the crosshairs by protecting the kids. What a mess.
The barrier shimmered faintly, reminding me it had two minutes left. I turned my gaze to the ten unconscious assassins scattered across the bridge and riverbank.
"Great," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "This'll raise a few eyebrows in the morning."
I set to work, tying them up with whatever rope and fabric I could find in my [Inventory], gagging them for good measure. When the barrier broke, I'd drop them off near the local authorities and leave the explaining to Lord Alexander.
As for Merchant X… that was a problem for another day.
For now, I turned my gaze back to the moon, savoring its quiet beauty.