Two crouched in the darkness, watching two maids exit the ugly palace before him. Why was a palace built like a flower of all things? The overhanging petals gave him cover to approach, but it still worried him.

Three gestured for them to start stepping out as the maids left, signaling them to kill anyone they saw. There would be no loose ends today. Two wondered why. Were there too many people in the palace to ignore? The entire operation has been approached with far more cautiousness than he would have expected. The assassination of the Solerian Crown Prince had been less complex.

The operation had him on the edge. There was too little security, not even a single guard to stop them as they stepped into the palace. Even if this was a rural backwater, there should be more security. The city clearly wasn't lacking for people or cultivators. Even if they were extraordinarily weak.

Five signaled for them to halt as they stepped in, asking One if they wanted to continue. There was more hesitation in their leader's usually impassive face than Two would have liked. The question remained. What did One know that made him so cautious? As far as they knew, there were only two Adepts in the palace. Of course, it could be another idiocy of One’s, but it was… Two shook his head, trying to throw the worry off.

Moruvier Senesor was the only one that could pose a threat, but any of them should be able to take him out. The other one was an unknown from the Elven continent, but there was no record of her participating in any battles. A non-combat Adept was even a less of a threat.

But here they were, approaching carefully. A number of questions were held on the tip of his tongue as they walked through a dark corridor. So dark that even with their enhanced vision, it was hard to walk through.

Was the noble so poor that they could not afford to light up a corridor? Or preferred not to for some reason? That was strange. The city he had seen beyond the palace's borders was not particularly prosperous, but it was well lit. A noble that spent money on the city instead of their own lands? That was even stranger. What noble actually cared for commoners?

Two had difficulty understanding why someone would care for those human trash. Not even in the Master stage. A bunch of lazy fools that couldn't do anything to the noble if they tried. Even that non-combat Adept could easily destroy the city. Heck, a Master could do it.

The corridor turned darker, making him crouch and slow down as they continued their approach. The corridor turned before him as walked through, keeping his shoulder against the wall. There was something wrong. At this point, he was sure of it. The corridor was too dark, for too long. There was no way even an impoverished noble would keep such a dark corridor.

There was just one other reason for it to be so dark. The corridor was a death trap.

Two's daggers shot out, catching an arrow headed towards him as he swirled, avoiding another attack by the breath of a hair. The arrows shot towards him as fast as lightning as he dodged them, fighting back as fast as he could. A flurry of daggers manifested before him as he countered it.

The situation felt strange, but he did not have time to think. The battle was already going on and if he did not attack, he would die. An arrow headed towards his head, more covering the area around him as he attempted to escape. The attacker was going for the kill, not giving him time to counterattack. For they both knew if he managed to do that, the other person would die.

The opponent was like him, someone that specialized in going for a quick kill.

Two conjured daggers around him, hundreds, thousands of daggers covered every inch of the corridor before him, spinning around him as they levitated, destroying the arrows. And then they shot forward towards the archer.

A volley of arrows answered him, but it was torn apart by his attack, moving forward faster than sound as it tore into the archer. The sound of flesh tearing reached him even in the darkness, telling him that he had killed his enemy.

Now, he wondered who it was. Moruvier? No, he was a sword user. And not even that good at it. The Elf? That could be. There was precious literal information about her, after all. Heck, the attacker had shown themself to be an excellent archer. Two had been specifically chosen by the Master for this, to use his Dagger element to become as good an assassin as a human could be.

The best in this world. Even if One was the leader now, he was sure he was stronger. For some reason, Master thought One was more intelligent. Two couldn't figure out why.

Rounding the corner, he found himself in a garden. The plans he had seen before the mission began had told him that there was a garden in the center of the palace that might contain their target, but it did not make sense. The direction was wrong. Two's instincts told him of danger as his colleagues emerged along with him. There was just one problem.

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"Where is One?" he asked. At this point, it was clear that they were detected. There was no reason to keep gesturing.

"I was attacked in the corridor." Five replied.

"So was I. An archer." Two replied. The others looked at them in confusion.

"The archers must have been a distraction. The real force must have gone to ambush One." Eight said. "Nine and Eleven must have also fallen."

"The archers were skilled, but I doubt they could kill one of us." Five said. Two scoffed internally. The brat was trying to steal his position. Now that One was dead, he was the leader. But of course, they all knew that One had been training Five to take over. Not him.

"Nine and Eleven were weak to begin with. The archer probably got the hit on them." Two said. "Now, we have a mission to complete. That is, unless you have forgotten that we are in hostile territory."

The crew fell into a single file as they attempted to find a way out of the garden. The garden that he suddenly noticed was far too quiet. There had been no attack while they were there.

An idea occurred to him. What they were dealing with was another crew of assassins. That would explain why the public information said that they only had nine Adepts, while eleven Adepts had attacked them.

That must be why One was so careful. The target had a rival protecting them. The fool. If he had informed them of this, he might not have died. But he had been too scared of being questioned to allow anyone other than him to hold command. The failings of those with less power.

Another corridor stretched before them, as dark as the last. Two gestured to his comrades, warning them that it was likely an ambush. A glance told him that he needn't have bothered. There wasn't one of them that didn't know what to expect.

Walking into the corridor, they kept their mana close, and weapons closer. The lot of them had weapon based affinities, allowing them to be experts with their chosen weapon. That made One's death even more shameful. The bastard had the Arrow affinity. And he had died by arrows. The Master would be disappointed.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he concentrated on the matter at hand. Magic was riding across this corridor, unlike the one before that had been silent. This corridor would not have arrows. If the mana was any indication, the attack would be elemental. But experts like them could easily feint a different type of attack. Two had done it enough times to not trust signs like this.

Trying to gesture to the others' to be careful, he grunted when he realized that it had grown too dark. The attack would be coming at any moment. Calling in his core mana, he coated his body with daggers, transforming his surroundings into a maze of daggers. An attacker would have a difficult time approaching him.

Fire spurt from a side as he moved his daggers in that direction, only for them to be crushed under a barrage of water. How novel. That was an unexpected twist. Spinning away from his position, he moved in random arcs, making daggers spin with him and attack his surroundings.

The attacks were coming from a number of directions, were extraordinarily potent, and varied in mana. A mana defense. That was the only thing that could be holding them.

And he knew how to deal with that.

Rushing through the corridor, he had his daggers attack the walls. The defenses tried to fight back, fire billowing out almost exclusively as it tried to burn his daggers away. But of course, it did not work. What self-respecting Adept would have daggers that could be so easily burnt away?

Another garden appeared before him as he rounded a corner.

The same one? Two wasn't sure. The garden looked different, but he wasn't one to trust his eyes on a mission. That was foolishness. This was a trap, and it was prudent to treat whatever he was as something that could kill him.

But another thing traps had was patterns. The attacks had come in corridors. The gardens were safe. The attackers must be relying on some darkness type of defense to boost themselves.

Six others joined him.

"I suppose Five fell too." Two said, feeling a little pleased with the turn of events. Of course, the brat must not have been able to tell that they were magical defenses. Oh, well, he should have trained for another decade, just like Two had to.

"This is officially the most casualties we have ever had on a mission." Eight mentioned. "Even the Solerian mission only had us take three casualties, and that involved us breaking into every single Solerian stronghold. I recommend we retreat.

A flash of anger spread through Two's brain, even as he acknowledged Eight's point. This was finally his chance to lead. Retreating would mean they had failed, and the Master would punish him for it. But of course, what did Eight care?

"No, we press forward." Two said. "What did Master tell us?"

"There is no space for failure. But retreating does not mean failure-" Eight began, only for him to draw his saber. Two was just a second behind him, but still too late. A rod had slammed into Eight's brain, while another headed towards Four's.

Two twirled, trying to find the attacker. But they were too fast. Like lightning let loose, the rod swept through the air, cleaving into his compatriots faster than he could react.

Four and Three were dead before he could do anything. Seven put an end to it, slamming the rod down as she looked up with anger. The only woman on their team did not seem pleased with him right now. Two just shrugged.

Not his fault, daggers just had difficulty dealing with rods.

The rod was controlled by someone remotely, someone that had to have used a ridiculous amount of mana. That or using a Grandmaster weapon. Two looked at the weapon, a simple stick with curved edges. The chances of it being a Grandmaster weapon were minimal at best.

Two concentrated his mana, closing his eyes as he extended his senses. The rod tried to budge. Wasting no time, he followed the connection. Following a mana connection was another thing he was good at. There were a lot of those.

The attacker was…three floors. Wait, floors? There weren’t any floors-

Two's eyes shot open as he yelled out at the top of his voice.

"Mind magic! Attack!"

Jumping as fast as he could, he propelled himself towards the attacker. The illusion fell away as he suddenly crashed into the ceiling, his shoulder hurting as he continued anyway.

The enemy might have been controlling the field till now, but that would end. Now, they would be the one dying.