"Boss, they're way too cocky. Should we kill them?" In a room upstairs, a muscular man with a scarred face made a throat-slitting gesture at the leader of the adventurers.
He was livid; if it weren't for the leader’s order to hold back, he would have smashed open the skull of that bearded dwarf!
The adventurer leader gave the muscular man a cold look. Despite being a strong fighter, the man's half-savage lineage also meant his head was filled more with muscle than brains.
The leader, wiping blood off his sword, lay down on a cotton-covered bed and said lightly, "Our mission is to retrieve that item. These folks aren’t pushovers, so don’t stir up trouble."
"Boss, you mean that ranger? If White Bone can trap him, I can split him in two with one swing!" In the Oath of the Shattered Blade, they all went by codenames.
The bulky man, with his half-savage blood, was ironically called Mouse, a name ill-fitting his size.
"I need five breaths' time to chant my spell," whispered a slightly frail figure from the corner, setting down his staff. He was the only spellcaster in this band of adventurers, a dark mage, and the only one who could stand toe-to-toe with the leader.
His codename was White Bone, named for the baby's skull he always wore on his chest - his own son's skull.
This man had a story. He was once a priest, a believer in the holy light...
Every fallen had their untold story, their desperate pursuit of power driven by the tales buried deep in their memories...
The leader glanced at the dark mage and shook his head slowly, saying firmly, "He’s an assassin, strong, but not enough to scare me."
"What I'm really worried about is that white-haired boy. White hair isn't natural for humans. I sense the same dark aura from him, but not even a trace of elemental power. The ability to leap through the air without any elemental aid, his power is beyond my understanding."
Storing his sword back in its sheath, the leader maintained his habit of sleeping with his sword - a practice that had kept him alive for ten years.
White Bone, the dark mage, closed his eyes in thought, then suddenly said, "That mother and daughter are valuable."
"I said no. Don't even think about it!" the leader frowned, his sharp gaze sweeping over the dark mage in the corner. He continued sternly, "If we can't retrieve that item, the High Priest will feed us to the beasts!"
The dark mage fell silent, then spoke again after a brief pause, "That elf woman is a priestess, and the girl, a half-elf. I'm sure the nobles in the human world would pay handsomely for them. They’re worth at least a hundred thousand gold coins!"
This astronomical figure not only captivated the half-savage brute but also sparked a flicker of uncontrollable greed in the leader's eyes.
"The odds of retrieving that item aren’t high, the enemy is too strong," murmured the dark mage, kissing the baby's skull in his arms with a deep, unresolved sorrow in his eyes.
Clutching his magic staff, he added, "If we can present a hundred thousand gold coins to the High Priest, perhaps we can gain power as strong as the sacrifices!"
The leader's eyes narrowed slightly. He gazed quietly at the dark mage lost in past memories, the only one in the group who knew the mage's history. After a long silence, he shook his head and said, "I know you've always wanted revenge. But this is riskier than retrieving that item."
"Is it that white-haired boy? Leave him to me. I'll handle him," the dark mage raised his head, his brown eyes flashing a blood-red light - a chilling intent to kill.
"It's not just him. The mother and daughter carry the aura of the Goddess of Life. This is elven territory, any disturbance might draw the elven patrols’ attention," warned the leader, bowing his head. "The souls of dead elves return to the Tree of Life.
Elves are known to fiercely oppose human trafficking. If the elf patrols catch us, the forest's archers might chase us all the way into human lands!"
"So what? What's the point of living a hundred years like this? Do you still cling to this half-dead life of yours?" scoffed the dark mage as he stood up and walked towards the door.
As his figure vanished down the hallway, his mocking words reached the leader's ears, "When did assassins become more fearful of death than women?"
"You!" The leader of the adventurers narrowed his eyes sharply, his pale fingers gripping the sword at his waist as a fierce intent to kill made the half-savage brute in the room shiver uncontrollably.
He had once witnessed the leader, in a frenzy, chop someone into pieces—a bloody and brutal scene that even he, a warrior seasoned in death, found chilling to recall.
"Keep an eye on him, don’t let him act rashly," the leader finally said, retracting his intimidating aura. He closed his eyes and commanded in a deep voice, "Don't harbor any greedy thoughts about that mother and daughter. Trust my judgment!"
"Yes, boss!" The half-savage man hesitated momentarily before nodding and responding in a low voice.
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He trusted the leader's judgment, as it was this very insight that had allowed him to escape death numerous times and survive to this day.
On the rooftop of the backyard, Felix sat cross-legged, his pale fingers pinching the blade of a cold iron dagger. The cool moonlight enveloped him, casting him as a hunter in the darkness.
Holding the dagger in one hand, Felix looked up at the moon in the night sky. His pale, handsome face, tense expression, and slightly narrowed eyes hinted at an underlying intent to kill.
He had heard the entire conversation of the adventurers, thanks to a power he couldn't yet fully understand.
Felix was determined to kill them. The moment the dark mage expressed his desire to harm the elven mother and daughter, a strong murderous intent surged within Felix.
Even though the adventurer leader had eventually dismissed the mage's suggestion, Felix's intent to kill only grew stronger.
Felix didn't know his past, but he guessed he must have been callous towards life, at least towards the lives of others he didn't care about.
When the phrase "They're worth at least a hundred thousand gold coins!" was spoken, Felix felt an overwhelming urge to eliminate them all—a terrifying intuition telling him that if he didn't, they would return.
He resolved to nip the danger in the bud, unwilling to take even a one-in-a-million chance of Nayara facing danger.
These adventurers had crossed a line within Felix, and anyone who did was an enemy.
Felix sat quietly on the roof, waiting for the early hours of the morning when people are in their deepest sleep, including professionals. These adventurers had violated his deepest principles; they had to die.
Felix was surprised by his own surge of murderous intent, but he soon decided to follow this impulse, thinking it might be his truest past self speaking.
Maybe this would help him remember something about his past.
Felix still wasn't entirely sure of his own strength. He was strong enough to easily throw Odynman out of the Snowcharm Inn, and fast, though not as blurringly fast as the assassin codenamed Mosquito.
However, he was much faster than other rangers. Additionally, he felt more comfortable with a single-handed sword than with a dagger.
His plan was to kill a few adventurers first and then lure the rest into attacking him. At that point, no reason would be needed. Based on the past actions of the Oath of the Shattered Blade, the townspeople of Snowdrift Hollow would undoubtedly side with him without question.
If he could get the tough bear druid involved, surviving until the townspeople arrived would be relatively simple.
His only concern was to ensure Nayara and her mother's safety, preventing the desperate adventurers from harming the girl. Therefore, Felix's initial sneak attack had to be precise and lethal.
As the moon reached its zenith, Felix, sitting cross-legged on the roof, slowly opened his eyes.
It was around 3 a.m., and the surroundings were extremely quiet, with only occasional chirps from the bushes.
Leaping down from the roof, Felix retrieved a crossbow from his room and stealthily moved towards where the adventurers were staying. The lights around were extinguished, and while the moon was bright, its dim light couldn’t illuminate the darker corners – places Felix couldn’t see clearly.
Deciding to rely on his unfamiliar yet instinctive ability, Felix closed his eyes and carefully made his way to the second floor.
With his eyes closed, he could 'see' everything around him. This 'seeing' was clearer and more precise than what his eyes showed him. The only downside was that it left him feeling drained and lethargic after a while.
This sense was more about feeling than seeing – a clarity beyond what his eyes could offer. Everything seemed to be made of energy, with different energies forming different materials.
Although Felix didn't yet fully understand this peculiar ability, he knew it was linked to his past and perhaps closely related to Gamma, the figure from his dreams.
On the second floor, there were five rooms, all occupied by adventurers from the Oath of the Shattered Blade.
Besides the individual rooms for the adventurer leader and the dark mage, the other adventurers shared the remaining three rooms. The farthest room housed three people, the second had five, and the last one six, all sleeping on mats on the floor.
The internal hierarchy of the Oath of the Shattered Blade adventurers was evident from their room arrangements.
Upon reaching the second floor, Felix immediately sensed a form of energy. It was a dark red energy that he couldn’t precisely define, but his innate intuition recognized its purpose – it was a kind of warning trap.
Felix moved silently, his footsteps nearly inaudible. However, his presence still alerted the dark mage in the second room, who slowly opened his eyes, his mind awakening from meditation. The heightened senses of a spellcaster gave him an acute intuition for danger.
Without hesitation, Felix, with eyes closed, raised his crossbow and, guided by his sensing ability, shot an arrow towards the mage's head. The crossbow bolt whistled through the air, piercing the thin window paper and heading straight for the dark mage's head just as his eyes opened.
There was no time for spells; the dark mage’s only option was to roll aside, narrowly avoiding the lightning-fast bolt.
"Thwack!"
Though the bolt missed the mage's head, it grazed the left side of his neck, leaving the arrowhead protruding with a cold glint. In that split second, Felix burst into the room, pouncing like a panther, his dagger aimed at the mage's neck.
The room, devoid of light, enhanced Felix’s peculiar “night vision” ability. He swiftly aimed his dagger at the dark mage's throat before he could cast a spell.
"White bone... shield."
The dark mage barely completed his chant, but it was too late to cast any magic. Felix's dagger sliced through his throat, spraying warm blood. The mage reached out desperately but soon lost all strength. As the blood drained, so did his life and magic.
In just three seconds, it was over. Keeping distance from an assassin was the first lesson in survival for spellcasters.
The commotion in the room finally roused the other adventurers from the Oath of the Shattered Blade. The first to enter was the adventurer leader. Felix, unfazed, calmly loaded a second bolt into his crossbow.
The leader, though inside the room, hesitated to advance. The room was too quiet, heavy with the smell of blood – a telltale sign of death. He knew someone was dead, and it wasn’t the assassin. It had to be the dark mage.
Killing White Bone in mere seconds meant hiding within was an exceptionally powerful assassin.
The leader, who was a skilled swordsman, knew the effort and talent required to wield a dagger so lethally. He cautiously sent another adventurer in first.
The chosen adventurer’s face turned ashen, but under the leader's stern gaze, he cautiously stepped into the dark room.
Felix, with a cold smile, eyes still closed, threw his dagger at the entering adventurer, then raised his crossbow. The adventurer managed to block the thrown dagger but soon succumbed to a crossbow bolt through his throat, the bolt almost piercing through his neck.
Darkness was Felix’s greatest ally.
As he prepared to wait for the next intruder, something glowing was thrown into the room – a candelabra.
Felix immediately sensed danger. Without hesitation, he grabbed the dark mage's corpse and hurled it towards the door, then broke through the window, leaping from the second floor of the inn.
Simultaneously, six glistening crossbow bolts whizzed through the air, turning the dark mage’s corpse into a porcupine.