Lord Ackerton took me to his carriage and we rode away to our first lesson. But not without some scolding first, it seems.

"Did you have to kill him? Do you know how hard it is to get a [Assassin] to level thirty-nine? He was this close to ranking up," Master berated me.

I took more time than usual to decide what to do and raised the bar. If I was going to be part of this guild, I would be part of the very best guild that ever was. That was the first time I noticed that Apricot had a perfectionist streak.

"Please. I did you a favor. Those cocky power-drunk idiots? We don't want them. What are we? A [Scoundrel] guild or a reputable, impeccable, disciplined, precise, and deadly [Assassin] guild?"

Master groaned. "Your sister is right. Where did you learn all this?"

I looked out the window. It was hard with all the curses forcing me to keep my mouth shut. But I decided on a course of action and I would see it through to the end. Being on the Master's good graces was the best choice now.

"Makes one wonder, right? My first murder was at the tender age of three months old. I got the Class right away. Let me tell you one truth about me, Master."

"Go ahead. I'm listening," He said and leaned forward.

Now, I needed to sugarcoat my delivery. In a very roundabout way to avoid triggering the curses.

"All girls have secrets. This girl here," I poked my chest with a thumb. "Has secrets not even the Gods know. My secrets have secrets. And I can only talk about what I can talk."

"Like how I can't see your Class and Level," He prodded.

Damn curses. What would happen if I could raise my Skills to any level? What powers are locked beyond my reach?

"You can see Class too?" I perked up.

"What rank is your {Appraisal}?"

I tested mentally and felt nothing. I could say my Skills ranks but not the reason they were at that spot.

"Novice nine. All my Skills are Novice nine."

"Why?"

Bingo. He was sharp. "Secret."

"Damn. You have to give me something to work with. I need to know what I'll train you in. Do you have {Cloaking}? {Vanish}? {Distract}?"

I shook my head. I saw all these Skills and others like {Envenom} and {Find Weakness} but all of them cost MP which irritated me to no end. I could hear Loki laughing at me.

"No in all counts. Care to guess why?"

"It's a secret," He said as an afterthought.

"Yes. The reason is obvious but it is a secret. You have to figure out."

I got close to tripping on the curse to not talk about curses. and I could not let my mood flare or he would mistake it for animosity.

"I'll unravel the puzzle that's you, my little Death Princess," He grinned with an amused demeanor.

He was looking at me with great interest. I had to use that momentum to pitch my grieves and steer the organization where I wanted. "Be my guest. And talking about my title, you need to make sure the people that work with me know how to address me."

"That's why you killed Gus? And I didn't send him to be your daily Exp 'meal'. I can get slaves for you to murder if you want."

He didn't care about Gus. And I wouldn't murder slaves to rise in level swimming in a puddle of innocent lives. "No. I killed him because he's a canker in our organization."

"Our?"

Oops. He didn't like that. Better misdirect and apologize. "Yours, Master. But I'm part of it."

"Amuse me. Why was he a canker?"

"Okay. Hope you're patient. This will take a while."

"Talking to you always take a while. You are smart but talk too slow."

"Not because I want," I tapped my head.

"Fair enough. Go ahead. Tell me a story."

"Master, what makes an [Assassin] an [Assassin]? What makes the [Assassin] different from all other Classes?"

"The progression? The Perk and Skill list?"

"Sorry. I must say you are wrong, Master."

He chuckled, amused at my boldness. "Enlighten me. How am I wrong?"

"Anyone can murder. And humans can get perks and skills from any Class. There are classes with equal or better progressions out there. So, no. That's now what makes an [Assassin]. What makes us what we are is our passion, our dedication to the craft. Anyone can paint, but a [Painter] takes the simple act of smudging the ink on a canvas to a transcendental level. Any toddler can drip ink blots on a canvas. But a true artist can weave these blots into something that draws people's emotions out."

He took some time to think about what I said. When he didn't say anything, I kept talking to keep the conversation going.

"That guy. He had the Class, he had the Levels. But he was not a true [Assassin]. He was a ruffian wearing black. He can paint but he might as well slash the canvas. Or forget the letter 'R' and paint with a bush. It is not pretty. It is not the best it can be. It does not excel. It does not transcend the mundane! That's why he had to die. He was a taint to our Class."

He remained silent. I kept blurting.

"Three [Assassins] were hired to murder three kings. The first [Assassin] set a massive fire ritual to go off in the wine cellar. The fire burned and melted the castle, the King, and the whole court. The second one, he entered through the front door and slaughtered everyone. The third, he infiltrated the castle, Killed the King, and got out. He triggered no trap. He tripped no magical ward. He didn't wake up the Queen sleeping on the King's bed. When people found out the King was dead the next morning, the third [Assassin] was drinking mead a hundred leagues away.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"The first one is just a terrorist. The other, a mass murderer. Only the third is a real [Assassin]."

He stared at my soul. "And you believe yourself to be the third type."

"No, master. I strive to be the third type. I'm not there. Not yet and maybe never. I'll never pick {Cloaking}, {Vanish}, or {Distract}."

"Why not? They are good Skills. Vital, even. Why don't you want them?"

"I want them. Trust me, I ogled at them long enough in the Class list. But I won't pick them."

"You can't. Why?"

I sighed. "Secrets. You will have to guess even though I want to share."

"A geass or maybe... a curse of silence?"

I looked away.

"You can't tell. Right. Let me see. What these Skills have in common to make them forbidden to you. They are all in the furtivity group. But you have {Hide Presence}. Ah!"

He slapped his fist on his palm and startled me. I looked back at him.

"They all cost MP! And with your mental deficiency, your MP pool must be crap!"

Damn, he was smart. If I hadn't capitulated and groveled at the charcoal plant, I would lose our game of cat and mouse. I bit my lower lip.

"And you might be blocked from spending your points in Mental Attributes!"

He was scaring me. His guesses were too close to home and I was afraid my unspeakable curses would trigger if I did anything.

"Or they cost a lot more. That's bothersome. We must train you to resist mental magic. You must have a huge affinity to water magic to use it so freely. I noticed you are quite well in the cold of winter. Is it true that you are stronger in winter?"

"No, master. That was a bluff."

"Smart girl. Oh, we're here."

----------------------------------------

He took me to a plantation on the outskirts of the city. I could hear the water rushing, a fast river somewhere nearby. A line of emerald evergreens contrasting with the muted trees elsewhere told me where. Master noticed my attention.

"The river's water is tepid even in winter. It is a delight to swim in. Even in winter. But we are not here for recreation. Your first job starts now. This way," He pointed and led me.

We entered a room with a polished wooden floor. A gymnasium if I ever saw one. Or should I say, a dojo? A group of people clad in black snapped to attention when the Master entered. I used {Appraise} on them. All in the twenties.

"You cost me a lot of personnel, little Miss. And now, you are going to help me get those whipped up in shape."

"Hey, boss," A laidback fellow snickered. "You told us you were bringing someone to spar and help us level. Is that the retarded girl?"

It was annoying as fuck. My face looked dumb, there was nothing I could do about it. It was a malady that was well-known in the world, it happened to one in who-knows-how-many thousands of people. Suffice to say, larger cities usually had a few of these to go around and be gawked at.

Those that weren't killed because the parents didn't want to waste resources on them, that's it. The main reason my father sold me was a practical one. One less mouth to feed, more food in the pantry. And it ended as it did.

"So, what do I do?" I asked the Master.

"You and they are going to spar. Under certain conditions, a friendly spar can grant Experience. One of them is that there must be a real risk of death. So you can kill one of them. Given your unique existence, I bet you can grant a lot of Experience to lower leveled individuals. What's your level, anyway?"

"Nice try," I said curtly. It was thirty-one but like hell, I'd tell him that.

"Anyway, that's your task for this afternoon. You'll spar as many of them as you can."

"I'll take all of them. At once. Let's skew the odds against me so I get more Exp."

"They might hurt you for real," the Master warned.

"Yes. There's no reward if there's no risk."

And the odds of me getting tired after N one-on-one fights were greater than with a one vs all fight.

"All of us against a little girl?" The jerk sneered.

The Master took a shiny silvery coin from his pocket. "One kingmetal coin to the one that either kills or knocks her unconscious. Think of this as special training. You will need to kill children someday."

They cheered and sent greedy looks at me. Another fucking test.

"You said I can kill one, right? I'll snuff loudmouth there. Is that fine?"

"No. Because the others will enter the fight knowing they won't die. You blew it. Now loudmouth must live. He's both out of today's sparring session and earned his codename. You there, Tailor. You are now known as Loudmouth. Step away from the group. You are out."

"Fucking retard," Tailor "Loudmouth" spat.

I put a contract on him and shared it. The [Assassins] noticed it and Loudmouth's eyes widened. A few daggers were discreetly drawn. Before things got out of hand, I removed the contract.

"Yes, I forgot to tell you this. This girl here," An amused Master put his hand on my head. "Is an [Assassin]. She's higher-leveled than you. I would put her on the late thirties with several bonus perks."

The look of disbelief stamped on the recruits' faces was something out of this world.

Loudmouth guffawed, "That's a tall tale. That girl?"

Master sighed. "I understand now what you said in the carriage. Would you murder that idiot? We don't need people like him in our organization. Everyone. A demonstration before our sparring match. Stand your ground."

I felt a contract on Loudmouth. I looked at him. "Hey, buddy. Shouldn't have offended me. That was unprofessional. We aren't [Scoundrels] or [Ruffians]. We are [Assassins]." I said as I replaced Master's contract with mine for fifty percent more Exp.

I ran back and out of the stadium-dojo. Loudmouth laughed because he thought I was running away. I rolled on the ground to disguise that I was picking a handful of dirt outside. Spinning on my heels, I ran back inside.

When he saw me running his way, he drew a pair of long knives and bent his knees. Yes, the guy was dangerous, no doubt about that. I kept running. Five meters out, I put my fist ahead of me.

"Water Ball!"

A ball of mud flew and struck his face. He swung his blades but I slid on the polished floor and kicked up to jump on his back.

For a moment, I thought about letting him live. But the guy was an [Assassin]. You had to murder in cold blood an unaware person before you even got the Class offered. He seemed the type to hold a grudge. And the Master told me to kill him.

He slashed wildly but he only managed to slash his own armor. Nenandil's water blob covered his face right as he inhaled and he immediately started to gag and choke. Wheezing, he took one minute to faint. Another one and the message popped up.

> Contract Fulfilled.

>

> You killed level 27 Assassin. You gained 168,315 Exp (15,210 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 3.05 perk x 7,57 contract).

A long way to the next level. Fourteen more like him.

The fairy was growing.

The other assassins stared at me as I returned to my spot next to Master. He had the faintest smile of pride in his face.

"Anyone else wants to doubt her?" Master asked. The recruits shook their heads. "Good. Our sparring match starts now. She still has to kill one of you, her choice, and the coin is still up for grabs. Now, get ready."

The assassins prepared themselves and the Master looked at me. "Death Princess, do you want to set any special rule? The more you handicap them, the better.

"I want daggers with a grip sized for my hands. And all of them will wield large swords. No other weapon allowed."

"That's unfair!" A guy with lots of daggers said.

"She's right," The master rebuked his protest. "A [Assassin] won't always have his favored weapons with him. On a job, you have to kill with anything you get your hands on. We'll pause for a few hours to get the weapons ready."

There was a smithy in the complex. The plantation side was just a front. I think this was the base of operations for the Assassin's guild. The master smith lathed some dowels to insert the tang of the daggers in the new child-sized handles. They looked more like shortswords to me.

"Can you make them shorter? Like, this much? I need to wield them faster."

The smith looked at me with a mix of contempt and irritation. I guess he thought that worse than a retarded or a spoiled child was a retarded spoiled child. Then he glanced up to meet Master's eyes and he nodded.

"Yes, I can do it. But it is better to leave these two they way they are and modify another two. Just wait a moment."

He took two dagger blanks and cut the new tang to make shorter blades and prepared them using the old handles. I gave a few test swings with what were basically letter openers if letters had been invented yet.

"Seems perfect. Thanks!" I gushed, causing the smith to give me a nod.