The village of Hermine didn't need to be guarded by sentinels; it was a waste. I had wracked my brain trying to understand the leader's decision to force two of his best men to stay there. It was the job of those vermin guardians to provide the residents with a sense of security, not ours.

I walked along the tree wall, having no desire to run into a villager who would undoubtedly try to strike up a conversation. They were easily impressed and liked to talk about their day. The elders at the center... they did the same thing every day, and I had heard their stories hundreds of times. They drove me insane.

When I had been appointed sentinel, I thought it gave me a chance to voice my opinion on how the village should be run, so – naively – I suggested getting rid of those who were too old to work. The leader flew off the handle, explaining that they were our most valuable asset, the most useful residents of all.

I thought the leader was crazy. Such foolishness, such naivety! If I could kill my past self, I would do it without hesitation! It was Grem who explained everything to me.

Those old folks embodied the ultimate dream of all the other residents: to grow old and lead a peaceful life. That was the dream. They were our showcase, the embodiment of the promise we made to the slav... to the farmers and miners. What superb pragmatism, what intelligence from our leader.

With that thought, I grabbed the dagger attached to my belt and drew it. Its gray blade shone, and I cut a deep gash in my forearm. It was a ritual I had set up. Whenever I disappointed the leader, or disrespected him, or even remembered having disrespected him, I would cut myself as a sign of penance.

It wasn't much, and far from enough. I had even begun to think about cutting off a finger or a limb. But I couldn't diminish my ability to fight, and thus serve his highness. Leveling up erased my wounds, but I strived to count each one so I could mark my flesh anew each time it regenerated.

But there was one wound that was worth more than any other. It was the prick the leader gave us on the finger on the first day of every month. All the residents lined up outside his big house to receive this blessing. It was a one-way blood pact, a way for the residents to show their devotion to their savior.

Of course, I knew the real reason for this ritual. It was to recover the DP of a player who died of natural causes. But I couldn't help but see it as a unique connection with the leader.

Sometimes – when I was away on a long mission – I would spend my free time staring at the small scar on the tip of my finger. I missed the leader. Even when I was in the village. Even when he was close. And now I had lost the most precious thing he had entrusted me with: his trust. All because of some vermin, a pathetic thief.

I knew the leader had asked me to stand guard, but I felt that it was not his real desire. He knew me too well. His plan must have been to use the immense pressure from my frustration to make me explode like a spring, and slaughter the thief. I was the Chief's ultimate weapon.

Realizing this, I felt liberated from my duties. My real goal was not to guard the village but to find and get rid of the thief. Immediately, I crossed the nearest wall; I was now outside in the forest.

I opened my map and spotted the direction to take in a glance. The South. That was where the tracks I had seen near the dungeon led. I had to move quickly.

I took a deep breath and ran with all my might.

...

I ran for a little half-hour before I reached where I had seen the tracks. Unfortunately, I couldn't find them anymore. They had disappeared.

Damn bounty hunters... Everyone wants to keep information for themselves; it's every man for himself. You can't trust them.

I couldn't ask for help from Zam or Guil; they weren't supposed to know I was no longer in the village. I had to fend for myself.

I looked around me, taking the time to find the best strategy.

I'm not the best at tracking, but I'm the best at assassination. So I should simply let the professionals find my prey for me.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I started heading South. If the tracks had been erased, it at least proved one thing: they indicated the right direction.

Soon I found new tracks, but they were not the same as the thief's. These were shallower and more spaced out. Fast and light, potentially a bounty hunter. Perfect.

I followed these traces cautiously; I was not immune to a trap.

It took me about ten minutes to reach a clearing.

The footsteps continued in that direction.

No trees, very bright. Why take a path so out in the open?

It felt like a trap. I was about fifteen yards away, behind a tree, observing the tops of the trees, looking for a hidden player.

"A little more to the right," said a voice. It was coming from above me. I froze.

"Don't turn around. If you move, I'll riddle you with arrows," the voice said next.

I said nothing, waiting to see what he wanted.

"Level 42? You Assassins unlock your second ability at level 40, right? The phase-walking?" he said next.

Is he anticipating my escape options? Good thinking.

"Are you a bounty hunter?" I asked, fully knowing he wasn't.

"Hunter... Of players, rather. A big bounty is always a great opportunity to catch overconfident bounty hunters," he replied.

Why tell me all this? What is he waiting for?

I heard a metallic noise behind me.

Handcuffs, or chains? He wants to capture me. What a joke.

"Catching an Assassin who can pass through obstacles is a hassle. How am I supposed to tie you up?" he asked.

He didn't know how to catch an Assassin of my level? He wasn't very experienced. What a fool, he had just given himself away.

I have 12 knives and nearly all my EP. I also have a wildcard, but I'd rather not use it. How can I get rid of him using the fewest resources possible? Phase-walking then invisibility, then wear him down with my speed and finish him off once he's out of arrows?

That seemed like the safest idea, but I was almost sure I'd end up with an arrow in my leg as soon as I activated my invisibility – he didn't want to risk killing me, just immobilizing me.

Phase-walking didn't allow me to move through an object coming toward me, so it was useless for defending against an arrow.

I heard him whistle, then felt someone approach, still behind me.

He wasn't alone.

"Hey, I've got an Assassin here. We can't tie him up, so do as usual, but be careful, he's high-level," said the player perched in his tree.

As usual? It must be to knock me out, then break my legs. That is if they're clever enough to figure it out.

I heard the player who had just arrived approaching me. His steps were heavy.

Maybe a Brute, or a Knight. The question was: would he be of any help to me?

I was waiting for just one thing: for him to position himself between me and the player who had me targeted.

His steps where getting close. One more step, and I would be within his reach, but that's also the moment when the other player would be most alert. The tiny window of time when anything is possible.

I felt a movement of air behind me. That was bad news, he was preparing a heavy blow.

I felt him far enough away to be out of range of a quick attack on my part, and he wasn't blocking his ally's shot.

I had waited for nothing. Oh well. I was a player, and my decision had been to conserve my resources as much as possible. At least now I was sure I would have to give it my all to triumph.

I felt a second movement of air behind me; he had finished charging his attack. His weapon was about to crash down on my head.

I turned invisible and immediately used phase-walking to move through the tree in front of me.

As expected, I was faster than the player behind me, but slower than the Archer's arrow.

A piece of metal lodged in my calf, but it didn't stop me from moving through the tree.

A heavy mace hit the ground where I had been a moment before.

I turned my head and got a quick glimpse of the two profiles I was dealing with.

A level 31 Archer and a level 28 Brute. Not beginners, but not a threat to me either.

I was behind the tree, crouched, and my left hand reached for two blades on my belt.

I threw them from my position, and they curved around the tree to embed themselves in the Brute's leg and arm.

I had to kill the weak link, then deal with the Archer.

I felt another movement of air, and I quickly moved several yards back.

Several arrows followed my movement, at the same time as the tree behind which I had hidden collapsed under the Brute's violent mace blow.

Brutes were the most formidable class in hand-to-hand combat; they could be swift and powerful in turn. This flexibility came from their ability to redistribute the weight of their bodies. They could become very light or very heavy depending on the situation.

The force they could unleash made them more like monsters than humans.

But the more powerful their blows were, the heavier and therefore more open to attack they became.

That's why, when I felt the movement of air that indicated a new attack and then retreated, I had thrown exactly 8 curved throwing knives in the direction of that player.

Each one hit the same area: his neck and the back of his head.

The tree fell, followed an instant later by the Brute.

He was dead on impact.

Too bad; I wanted him to suffer more.