Jonathan rolled up the paper, and looked down at the Uthraki, who strangely enough, did not seem to be willing to flee.

“Why do you not run?” Jonathan asked, curious.

“I have already failed in my mission. You found my message, therefore I am compromised. I am ready for death.”

Jonathan did not move. Killing an enemy was one thing, but killing someone who was defenseless did not sit well with him.

“What was all this about killing the city lord?” Jonathan asked, waving the piece of paper.

“That man has oppressed us for the last few years. His doctrines grow even stricter, and his control over the city ever stronger. He is a tyrant, who rules not through his own strength, but through the strength of his allies. He has backing from the Council of this realm, the three most powerful Uthraki in the world. Because of this, he has access to wardings and artifacts that render killing him nearly impossible.”

“Right. The letter mentioned that no Uthraki could enter his house. What about a non-Uthraki?”

“Yes, but getting a beast to enter the city would be impossible. It would be slain by the guards long before it reached- Wait, you’re not suggesting what I think you are, are you?” The woman said.

“We came to this city to kill and level up. It doesn't matter who we do it to. Besides, such a powerful man would provide a surplus of levels.”

Hope seemed to blossom in the woman’s eyes as she took this in. She got to her feet, and hesitantly looked at Jonathan.

“You will have to come with me to the headquarters then. Our Guildmaster will want to meet with you.”

She started walking away from them, in the same direction that she had been going originally. Jonathan and Edgar followed after her, getting ready to fight if this turned out to be a trap of some kind. She led them through the alleyway and out into a street, crossing a moment later. They entered another alleyway, and they soon found themselves before a nondescript door. The woman knocked on it in a curious pattern, and a small slit opened a moment later. An eye came into view, and then the door opened.

A small Uthraki stood there, one so short for his race that Jonathan assumed he was genetically stunted in some way. He eyed up the newcomers, but then backed away, letting them in. There was a small chamber behind the door, one that looked like it was made for storing things in. Rusty armor and weapons were propped up against the walls. However, the stunted Uthraki pulled at a halberd, and the far wall opened up, revealing a spacious meeting hall.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Dozens of Uthraki were in there, some of them sparring in designated arena spaces. In the very center, a few high leveled Uthraki pored over a series of documents. The room was lit by a series of floating balls of light, which caused the obsidian of the room to sparkle. Support columns were visible all around the chamber. A staircase led down into the center of the building, which the Uthraki woman took. Edgar and Jonathan followed. If this was a trap, they would be in serious trouble. However, Jonathan was confident that he could escape if it came to it. Smite would allow him to temporarily send his strength through the roof, especially with the upgraded form. It had caught up to his level now, and provided similar boosts to when he had first come to this world. With it active, he would be able to fight on an equal level against most threats at his Tier, save Granath, or anyone who had cultivated their potential to a similar degree.

Jonathan was only as strong as he was because of his titles and his class choices. He was the product of destiny, and his power was far beyond the hopes of any to defeat. With all of his strength, he could probably take an average low Tier 3 in combat now. However, that was simply conjecture. He would not be willing to test that.

As they walked into the room, all of the Uthraki looked up from their tasks, studying the newcomers. All of them seemed to be experienced in the art of killing, and many had the dead eyed look that came with career criminals. These were people who had lived under the gaze of the law for most of their lives, waiting for a chance to kill, steal, and seize what they wanted. Some of them looked at the two men with a greedy expression, as if they were hungry to find out just what they were. After all, Edgar and Jonathan were clearly not from this realm. They were almost four feet shorter than the Uthraki for the most part, and were a lot smaller in other metrics as well.

Ignoring the gazes, Jonathan strode towards the center of the room, where the leader stood. The female Uthraki that had led them here scurried ahead, prostrating herself in front of the man. He was old for an Uthraki, and had a visible beard, something that Jonathan had never seen on a member of that race before.

“Guildmaster, I beg your pardon for bringing outsiders into our hold. However, they seem to possess the strength to help us.”

The man simply stared at the woman, and then, without warning, slapped her across the face so hard that she was lifted off her feet, and sent flying into the air. Nobody reacted, as if this was a common occurrence. The scariest thing was that the man’s expression did not change at all as he did it. He took a few steps towards Edgar and Jonathan, eyeing them up critically.

“You are both weak, in body and mind. Your level is paltry, and your auras are undirected. How in the world did one of my Nightblades find you worthy of helping us?”

It seemed that the man had decided to underestimate them straight off the bat. Both of the men had their auras retracted so as to not alert any passersby in the alleyway to their presence, and they possessed strength beyond their level.