It became obvious to Zareth seconds into his fight with the [Assassin] that he had no hope of actually defeating her.
This wasn’t the first time that he had been in a fight or even the first time he had been stabbed, but the [Assassin] was more dangerous and had more Skills dedicated specifically for killing than any back alley criminal. If not for his ability to quickly heal his injuries, he would already be dead.
Zareth let out a curse of pain as he leapt back from the knife threatening to disembowel him, only for it to unexpectedly twist like a snake and cut a gash through his chest. He forced the wound to close moments after it was made and cast [Deaden Nerves] on himself to remove the pain, but he couldn’t do that forever. He would eventually suffer the backlash from overusing his Skills, and then he would be dead!
Zareth kicked out at the woman with wicked talons growing from his feet, but the [Assassin] easily dodged and rewarded him with poisoned wounds. Trying a different track, he attempted to attack her with venomous whip-like tendrils that he grew from his arms, but she seemed able to avoid every one of his attacks with preternatural grace.
[Danger Sense]? No. She's reacting after I move, not before.
Zareth could feel the first hints of Skill overuse begin to creep up on him as the woman cut into him again and again
I just need to hold on, Zareth thought as he tried to contain his panic. A quick glance to Rizok was enough to calm him down slightly. Rizok looks like he’s winning his fight. I don’t need to win mine, I just need to last long enough for him to help me.
Another of the [Assassins] had died to Rizok's blade, and the rest were frantically doing everything they could to survive and keep the lizardkin pinned down.
Deciding on a new strategy, Zareth immediately began growing the strongest scales he could over his vital points and began fighting on the defensive. The [Assassin] continued to cut at Zareth, using either feints or bursts of speed to avoid any attempts he made to grab at her and use [Corrode Flesh]. When he only barely managed to avoid a knife thrown at his eye, Zareth knew that he needed to do something to get some distance if he wanted to survive.
As the [Assassin] leapt forward to continue her assault, Zareth suddenly created an open maw in his palm and used it to spit the contents of his venom gland. The new form of attack was not one that she had expected, and the [Assassin] was forced to dodge by leaning back at an angle that would not be physically possible without the use of a Skill.
Zareth took the opportunity to put some distance between the killer and himself, jumping behind a pew just as a pair of throwing knives came flying in his direction. Thankfully, his scales were just barely strong enough to deflect the one aimed at his heart.
Zareth could feel his heart beating like a war drum as he used [Minor Purify Flesh] to remove the large amounts of poison from his body. Peeking quickly over the pew, Zareth was startled to find that he had lost all track of the [Assassin].
Cursing silently to himself, Zareth focused on his several perception Skills in order to find her. Although she was completely blind to any of his senses, [Devotion Perception] was enough to track her by searching for her Blessed knife. Zareth was more than a little shocked when he realized that the [Assassin] was actually approaching him from above, likely to avoid having to navigate the row of pews. He briefly wondered whether her abilities to walk on walls came from a Skill or enchanted shoes, but Zareth forced those thoughts aside as he couldn’t afford to be distracted.
Feigning that he had no idea where she was, Zareth looked frantically in every direction aside from upwards and began to sway as though he was about to collapse. The [Assassin] didn’t waste any time when she saw his vulnerability, knowing that her fellow killers couldn’t hold back Rizok for much longer.
Just as she leaped down from the ceiling, Zareth threw himself to the side in a burst of motion and narrowly avoided the blade that was about to be buried into his skull. Taking advantage of the [Assassin]’s momentary surprise, Zareth pushed through his exhaustion and lunged at her across the floor with all the speed that he could muster. She buried a knife in his chest, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing the killer’s leg and using [Corrode Flesh].
A scream filled the air as Zareth’s skill ate away at her flesh, reducing everything he touched to a corrosive mess. She was fast, managing to kick him so hard that his shoulder clavicle was shattered. He was sent flying to the other side of the room, but the damage was already done.
As he struggled to get his bearings and pull the poisoned knife from his chest, Zareth could hear the sound of clashing steel begin to grow louder as his vision blurred. When he finally looked up, it was to the sight of Rizok crashing through the pews with a furious roar and preventing any of the three surviving [Assassins] from approaching Zareth. They attempted to attack him from multiple angles at the same time, but Rizok’s blade flashed with such rapid precision that their efforts seemed useless.
Suddenly, Rizok’s movements changed. Rather than a flurry of nimble parries and deflection, his body tensed as he leaned forward and assumed a more aggressive stance. In the next moment, Rizok moved so fast that he seemed to blur to Zareth’s wavering vision. There was no discernable movement of his arm, no drawn-out slash, just the sudden simultaneous appearance of three savage gashes that appeared on each of the [Assassins] and blood spraying into the air.
They gasped and stumbled at the devastating wounds, but Rizok didn’t give them a moment to recover.
One of the [Assassins], an older human man, was cut open from shoulder to waist as the last two finally seemed to understand that they were hopelessly outmatched. When they both used some kind of Skill to disappear from sight and flee from the temple, he expected Rizok to chase after him. Instead, the lizardkin merely glared at them before turning his attention back to Zareth.
“Sir, are you alright?” Rizok asked as he made his way over to where Zareth lay on the floor, his expression one of concern.
Zareth tried to answer, but only managed to cough up a mouthful of blood as his lungs began to protest. He could tell that his body had reached its limits, the sharp pain of Skill overuse threatening to overwhelm him. The sensation was difficult to describe, as if some invisible force was pricking his veins from the inside.
“I’ve… been better,” Zareth admitted with a wry grimace, glancing around at his ruined temple. Several mutilated corpses littered the floor, and there was blood splattered everywhere, much of it his own. “But… I’ll survive. I’m really glad I decided to pick [Malleable Flesh], otherwise I’d be dead by now. I was definitely a whole lot harder to kill than those bastards expected.”
Zareth couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle as he felt the adrenaline begin to leave his body. He was wounded, poisoned, lying in a pool of his own blood, and surrounded by corpses in a ruined temple, but he was alive! He was alive, and had survived an attack from a trained [Assassin] likely several levels higher than him.
“I’m glad that you chose that Skill as well,” Rizok said as he let out a sigh of relief. “Not many people can survive my [Triple Slash]. Those two [Assassins] who survived were probably approaching Level 40 given how powerful they were.”
Zareth’s eyes widened at Rizok’s assessment. The average civilian never managed to reach Level 40 by the end of their lifespan. Hearing that a group of such powerful individuals had been sent to kill him made Zareth feel light-headed, though that might have also been due to the blood loss.
“Fuck… then how am I still alive?” Zareth asked in bewilderment as Rizok helped him up onto one of the undamaged pews and began checking his wounds.
There was absolutely no way that someone who only just reached Level 20 in a non-combat related Class should have survived against such a high leveled [Assassin].
“I can think of a few reasons, sir,” said Rizok, his expression growing thoughtful. “[Assassin] and its many derived Classes generally require thorough preparation to successfully kill a target. Their plan was to dispose of you quickly while the rest of their group pinned me down. That plan likely failed because they didn’t fully understand how quickly you could heal yourself. After that, my [Bolstering Aura] was enough to keep you alive long enough for me to cut them down.”
Zareth fell silent as Rizok finished checking over him and began examining the corpses. That explanation made sense to him. It wasn’t like there were any other [Cultists] who worshiped Cerebon in Tal’Qamar, so nobody would know the exact details of his Skills.
“What is [Bolstering Aura]? Sounds like a pretty neat Skill if it stopped me from getting gutted,” Zareth asked curiously, suddenly extremely interested in learning more about Rizok and his abilities.
General Nasrith hadn’t exactly given him a list of Rizok’s Class and abilities when he assigned the lizardkin to watch over him. It was generally considered rude to ask for the exact details of a person’s Status before they offered that information. There were a few exceptions to this, such as when those details were directly relevant to a job that you were hiring them for or something similar.
Zareth might have been able to ask for a full accounting of Rizok’s Class and Skills since he was technically the lizardkin’s superior, but he simply hadn’t felt the need. It made him feel stupid to admit in hindsight, but he hadn’t actually thought that he would be attacked by a team of high leveled [Assassins] a few months after taking on his position!
Rizok hesitated for a moment, but eventually responded to his question. “[Bolstering Aura] significantly increases the physical abilities of my allies while we’re fighting. It’s very powerful when I’m leading a squad, and is one of the main reasons I chose to become an [Aura Blade].”
That made sense to Zareth. A high leveled [Assassin] should have had enough Agility to move faster than he could have reacted. The fact that Rizok’s aura could increase his physical Stats to such a degree was both extremely impressive… and extremely surprising. As he analyzed everything that had happened, Zareth couldn’t help but feel a hint of suspicion grow within him as he studied Rizok.
Why did General Nasrith decide to assign such a formidable soldier to protect Zareth? The military couldn’t possibly be so powerful that they had many people of Rizok’s strength just lying around. Did High Command expect that something like this would happen? Why had the Conclave chosen to send so many high leveled [Assassins] to kill someone as unimportant as Zareth? After all, there was nobody else who had the motive and means to do something like this.
He could tell that there was something suspicious going on with the military’s recent takeover of Tal’Qamar, but he hadn’t actually looked into it. Zareth had just wanted to keep his head down, gather followers, and gain levels, while ingratiating himself to the new group in power.
But now… almost getting stabbed in the throat and almost cut to pieces had definitely changed his priorities.
Just as he was about to begin asking more questions, Rizok suddenly turned his gaze to the temple's entrance. “The guards are about to arrive. You can rest, sir. I’ll explain the situation to them.”
“Really? What took them so long?” Zareth asked with a weary scowl. High Command had placed his temple in a heavily patrolled area, but a group of killers had still managed to slip through their security. He’d always known Tal’Qamar’s guards to be useless, but this was ridiculous.
“One of the [Assassins] used a Skill to hide what was going on in the temple,” Rizok explained, his eyes still on the entrance. “Likely [Kill Zone] or something similar. I felt its effect dissipate after they fled.”
Zareth immediately decided that he needed to somehow get his hands on a book that detailed commonly known Skills…
The next few minutes were a blur of guards, investigators, and curious bystanders who were trying to figure out what had transpired. Zareth managed to learn that he wasn’t the only one who was attacked. The Conclave had sent [Assassins] all across the city to kill the other members of the Hierophant Council.
None of Zareth’s colleagues had died, but Kinta had been severely injured and needed to see a [Healer]. That wasn’t surprising, as the young lizardkin woman was around the same age as Zareth and probably had similar Levels. All of his other colleagues were older and already had some degree of power before the Conclave was run out of Tal’Qamar. They would have been perfectly capable of protecting themselves.
It didn’t take very long before High Command ordered a complete lockdown of the city and sent a few grim-faced soldiers to bring Zareth to a safer location.
As he was escorted out of the ruined temple covered in blood while surrounded by crimson-cloaked soldiers through the streets of Tal’Qamar, Zareth had a feeling that he was about to become a far more recognizable figure. His name was well-known by now to anyone paying attention to the city’s politics, but not too many people actually knew what he looked like until now.
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The tension in the city reminded him of the first days of the military’s takeover, with people once again looking at each other suspiciously and being forced into their homes by armed soldiers. A part of him idly wondered how many times something like this could happen before things began to boil over.
Zareth’s feeling of deja vu was compounded as the soldiers escorted him to the palace, which now obviously served as High Command’s headquarters and was the most secure place in Tal’Qamar. The palace was completely swarming with armored soldiers patrolling the vicinity as well as several [Archers] and [War Mages] overlooking the surrounding streets from high vantage points.
[Magic Perception] allowed Zareth to sense the various magical barriers and wards that had been established to prevent any unauthorized access and catch anyone sneaking in while obscured by a Skill or through magic. When he entered the palace, Zareth immediately noticed how different things looked now compared to his first visit.
Previously, the palace had been filled with many frivolous pieces of art and luxurious adornments. Now, it was devoid of such grandeur, replaced instead by a more spartan and functional decor with government officials bustling about with a purposeful air. Zareth even passed by a room that had been converted into an operations center, filled with military officers locked in serious discussion as they loomed over maps of the city and the surrounding areas.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to get a very good look before he was ushered down another corridor to a heavily fortified chamber.
The chamber itself was a spacious, square room. Its stone walls were devoid of any decoration, and there was only a solitary narrow window high above. The sole point of entry was the heavy iron door, reinforced with several magical engravings that Zareth didn’t recognize. The only furniture in the room were stone benches protruding from the walls and a plain wooden table in the center.
He was unsurprised to see that he was the first person to be escorted there, as his temple was the closest to the palace. Once he was safely placed in the room, Zareth was soon left alone with Rizok, who turned his eyes firmly to the gate.
“Damn… they could’ve at least waited until I was cleaned up before dragging me all the way here,” Zareth muttered as he sat down on the bench. Although all of his wounds had long since been closed up, he still felt utterly exhausted. “First, I get ambushed and nearly killed in my own temple. Then I get marched through the streets while covered in blood, and now I’m sitting in some bunker until someone decides to let me out!”
Zareth leaned back against the wall and focused on his breathing as he closed his eyes. His heart rate was finally slowing down and the subtle shaking of his hand was beginning to subside. Zareth didn’t want to admit it… but he was more than a little shaken by what had happened.
Any sense of safety that he once felt had been brutally and thoroughly shattered. Even if the Conclave hadn’t succeeded in killing him today, their next attempt had a high chance of being far more successful now that they had a better understanding of his abilities.
“Apologies, sir. It’s not ideal, but safety is our first priority at the moment,” Rizok replied as he continued to watch the door with a keen eye. After a moment, he seemed to hesitate before turning his gaze toward Zareth. “I also apologize for allowing that [Assassin] to harm you. They were well prepared to separate me from you, but that is no excuse.”
A part of Zareth wanted to accept Rizok’s apology and even comfort the soldier who had just saved his life, but a larger part of him was irrationally suspicious, angry, and even terrified.
“If you want to apologize, then you can start by explaining to me who you are and why General Nasrith chose you to protect me,” said Zareth, his voice hoarse and strained as he stared at Rizok. “You sure as fuck aren’t a regular soldier. I’d expect even most of the military’s elite soldiers to struggle against a group of high-level [Assassins], yet you slaughtered them without breaking a sweat.”
Rizok stiffened in tension at the pointed question and seemed like he was struggling to find an answer, but Zareth wasn’t quite done yet.
“Did High Command predict that something like this would happen?” Zareth asked, unable to contain his suspicions. “I always knew the Conclave would consider us enemies, but how can they afford to waste so many resources to kill a low level [Cultist]? I was expecting them to provoke unrest and undermine the government, not spend a small fortune to kill me!”
After being run out of Tal’Qamar, the Conclave simply shouldn’t have had enough resources to waste on someone like Zareth. They did still have a presence in a few other nearby cities, such as Fal’Ashar or Fal’Tirith, but those cities were all far less wealthy than Tal’Qamar.
The room grew quiet as Rizok stared at Zareth with a guarded expression, the silence heavy between them. Finally, the soldier let out a breath before responding.
“I can’t speak for what High Command may or may not know, sir. I am truly just a soldier following orders, and I don’t know anything more than you,” Rizok explained, his voice filled with weariness. “However, I can tell you a little about my background and point you in what I think is the right direction.”
That wasn’t the answer that Zareth wanted, but it was good enough to calm him down somewhat. Not trusting himself to speak, Zareth nodded for the soldier to continue.
“This isn’t something that I share with most people, but my father was once the [Seneschal] for House Vhelan,” Rizok began, his eyes growing distant. “After he died, I was forced to join the military for political reasons outside of my control. However, the Vhelans continued to support me and provided me with the best training they could. It was only due to their patronage that I could rise through the ranks and become an [Aura Blade].”
Zareth sat in silence, surprised as he soaked in this new information. Tal’Qamar wasn’t a city-state with a formal nobility, but there were naturally several families that possessed a significant amount of power and influence. Five naga families in particular were more powerful than the rest, and were the reason why the naga held more political power in the city than any other race.
House Vhelan was one of those families, and had a lot of influence over the military. There were rumors that General Nasrith had a close relationship with them, but Zareth didn’t know the truth of the matter.
Despite controlling much of the city, these families had a tendency to keep to themselves for some reason, so he didn’t know all that much about them. Plus, it wasn’t like Zareth had ever been given an actual education into the city’s history or its politics. Everything he knew was a result of his limited interactions in being a makeshift plastic surgeon for people with too much money.
“That explains why you’re so strong I guess,” Zareth admitted reluctantly. As long as Rizok had even a small amount of talent, House Vhelan would be perfectly capable of turning him into a killing machine. “The Vhelans probably know a whole lot more about System and combat Classes than I ever will, so that makes sense. But that doesn’t explain why the Conclave sent so many high-leveled [Assassins] after me.”
“For that, I think you would be better off asking your colleagues,” Rizok said vaguely. “The [Priestess] and the [Grand Shaman] should both have a good understanding of the city’s history, and thus its politics.”
Zareth could tell from Rizok’s expression that he wouldn’t be getting anything more out of him, so he simply settled in to wait. Farida was the first to arrive, visibly unaffected from being attacked aside from a suppressed expression of exhaustion that surprised him. He had never seen the woman look anything but composed, so the sight of her weary eyes was somewhat shocking.
Neither of them said anything to each other as she made her way over to a bench and took a seat. Borak and Kassan both arrived at the same time before long. Apparently, all of their bodyguards had been injured enough that they needed to see [Healers] in a separate location.
He was somewhat surprised to see that Borak was actually injured, a small laceration across his cheek.
“I’d offer to heal that for you, but I don’t think I’m in any position to be helping anyone right now,” Zareth said with a wry smile.
The elderly ogre turned to look at him as he took a seat and responded gruffly. “This wound is nothing of significance. The [Assassins] did not have the means to overpower me. Had they not surprised me, then I doubt they would have managed to injure me at all.”
“That’s nothing to be proud of,” Kassan said as he coiled his serpentine body onto the same bench as Farida. The Priestess looked annoyed at him, but didn’t voice any complaints. “Now that they’ve learned more about our abilities, I have no doubt they will try again. The Conclave will remain a threat until their presence is removed completely from the Qahtani Desert.”
Farida scoffed disdainfully before sharing her opinion. “Their efforts will be wasted if they believe they can quell Silvaris with a few hired blades. They could not succeed when they had control of this city, and they will not now.”
Zareth was glad that the conversation had turned so quickly to politics and didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the situation to ask some questions. “Speaking of which, Rizok, my bodyguard, recommended that I ask you all for your opinions on why and how the Conclave were able to send so many expensive killers after us.”
His colleagues seemed to trade glances before Farida chose to speak up first. “That answer to that would be obvious if you’d let me teach you something about this city’s history, boy.”
“I would’ve gladly learned from you if I didn’t need to worship your god to do so,” said Zareth, annoyed that she wasn’t just giving him a straight answer. “Not everyone wants to live a life of material detachment and stoic devotion.”
“Then you’re better off asking the snake,” Farida said dismissively as she gestured toward Kassan. “He’d know better than any of us what’s going on. After all, everything is happening because the snakes can’t stop burying knives in each other's backs.”
Zareth wasn’t surprised as he turned his attention to Kassan. Given that the naga held the most political power in Tal’Qamar, it made sense that he would know the most.
Kassan didn’t seem particularly offended by Farida’s words as he calmly met Zareth’s gaze and asked a question. “How much do you actually know about our city’s history?”
“Not all that much,” admitted Zareth, feeling a hint of embarrassment. “I know that there used to be a big empire that controlled the Qahtani Desert which collapsed when the System came around. Other than that… there aren’t many people interested in giving history lessons to street kids.”
Kassan nodded to himself, seeming to have expected this answer. “That is a good place to start then. Sometime after the Nephala Dynasty collapsed, my people arrived to these lands from the continent of Arzuma and began building the city of Tal’Qamar from the fallen empire’s ashes.”
“What the snake actually means is that a few rich families ran away from their lands and decided to steal ours,” Farida interrupted, glaring at Kassan venomously.
“That’s certainly one perspective,” said Kassan, shrugging nonchalantly. “I would say that the Great Houses brought civilization to a land consumed by chaos, but it matters little. These affairs are all ancient history, and my people have become just as native to the Qahtani Desert as you humans, ogres, and lizardkin.”
Farida obviously didn’t agree, if her continued glare was any indication. Borak was much harder to read, but he was looking at Kassan with an intensity that showed his interest in the topic.
“In any case, the Great Houses of Seradis, Vhelan, Khrysar, Zarqet, and Kavasa, have a history in Tal’Qamar that spans many millennia,” Kassan said proudly.
“Most of which they’ve spent squabbling over power until the Seradis managed to prove that they have the sharpest fangs out of all of them,” said Farida, smirking as a hint of annoyance finally crossed Kassan’s expression. “Raqasor and every [Merchant Lord] that came before was a member of House Seradis. It must have been rough for the rest of the snakes to be out of power for so long… I think you can imagine what happened next.”
“I don’t think I like what you’re implying,” said Kassan, his voice a low hiss.
“You can hate it all you want, but it isn’t hard to read between the lines,” Farida said smugly.
It wasn’t hard to see what Farida was getting at. If what she said was true, then it made sense for the other naga to resent House Seradis’ long hold on power. The military had claimed that Raqasor was killed by the Conclave when they took over power, but there was no way for him to know if that was true.
“That’s all very interesting, but what does that have to do with my initial question,” Zareth asked, hoping to distract everyone from the growing tension in the room.
“The Conclave, much like the naga, are not native to these lands,” Borak’s deep voice cut through the room and drew all eyes to him. “They were brought here by House Seradis centuries ago to suppress the native gods and help consolidate their influence. I’ve been told that they have powerful enemies in Arzuma and needed an equally powerful patron to offer them protection.”
Zareth could feel his mind racing as he began to put everything together. This meant that Tal’Qamar being under the control of General Nasrith was an existential threat to the Conclave. If they failed to get House Seradis back in power, then they would eventually lose all influence and be left vulnerable to their enemies in Arzuma.
“Another reason why it makes little sense for the Conclave to have killed Raqasor,” Farida said as she glanced toward Kassan. “Them still being favored by House Seradis would also easily explain how they paid for so many powerful [Assassins] and snuck them into the city. After all, the Seradis are the wealthiest group of snakes in the Qahtani Desert and have plenty of contacts among the [Merchants].”
“The obvious explanation is that the Conclave made a miscalculation,” Kassan immediately refuted. “They believed that they could take control of Tal’Qamar directly and decided to betray their patrons in order to do so. They were wrong and are now paying the price. It is not very kind of you to blame my people for the misdeeds of others.”
Zareth wasn’t sure if he believed that. In his experience, the most straightforward explanation was usually the right one. However, it didn’t matter to him all that much if the military had killed the [Merchant Lord] or not. Even if he hadn’t, General Nasrith was already a military dictator who had led countless battles over his life.
The man had plenty of blood on his hands one way or another.
“But… I haven’t heard anything about House Seradis being run out of the city,” Zareth said. Everyone in the city would be talking about it if something like that happened.
“Many of them fled the city quietly while General Nasrith was still taking power,” Borak explained patiently. “Those who remain are likely being monitored closely, and are being used for their connections to the [Merchants].”
“Then what is General Nasrith going to do?” Zareth asked, feeling increasingly unnerved by the situation.
The Conclave wasn’t going to stop until they regained control of Tal’Qamar, and killing him and his colleagues would be part of that.
“There’s almost certainly going to be a war,” Farida said, the weariness in her eyes growing as she slouched back and sighed. “General Nasrith will need to take control of the Qahtani Desert and stamp out any worship of the Conclave’s gods. Otherwise, the Conclave will never stop being a threat to his rule. Blood will soon spill across these sands once again. That was always the inevitable result, but I’ve no doubt that this attack has moved up his plans.”
The room fell quiet as Farida finished speaking. Zareth glanced toward Borak and Kassan, but neither of them seemed to disagree with the old woman's assessment.
Suddenly feeling even more exhausted than he already did, Zareth slumped back and closed his eyes. Today had already been one of the most chaotic days of his life, and he had a feeling that the future wasn’t going to be much better.