In short, the strategy worked perfectly. Lloyd and I used our Imperium to easily claim victory at the most opportune moments, securing the eighth and ninth slots. To be honest, it was a bit anticlimactic. The only surprise was how astute some of our opponents had been; there were several times where they had accurately guessed when we were cheating. Unfortunately, they had no way to prove it.

After the rankings had been announced the winners, Lloyd and I included, were taken to the central district, the location of the final round. Before we departed, Lloyd told the group that we would be holding a meeting tomorrow afternoon.

Our journey was rather comfortable, as the road was paved with level stone and the horse-drawn carriage was of excellent make and quality, greatly reducing the strain on its passengers.

Lloyd and I rode with two other passengers; a young woman who introduced herself as Vale, and a large, bull-man named Mokhus. “But you can call me Mokh. Even though it’s pronounced like ‘woke’ but with an M, it’s spelled M-O-K-H,” he clarified.

I leaned over and discretely whispered in Lloyd’s ear, “Who’s descendants are those guys?”

“The Honraja are the descendants of Wiesis, demigod of storms,” he whispered back. If I remembered correctly, Honraja are, on average, bulkier than humans. They also have hide not unlike cattle, rather than human skin. I gave Mokh a once-over. Yeah, he seemed to fit the bill.

Mokh and I talked while Vale and Lloyd stared daggers at each other. Mokh said he had recently come to Milon to become a mercenary. The Heist Game was a great opportunity to make a name for himself and maybe even get recruited on the spot. “I don’t even mind if it doesn’t work out, today has just been that fun,” he smiled.

“Oh, I forgot to ask, do you Vale know each other?”

He shook his head and Vale spared me a brief glance before returning to her windows gazing.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Lowestoft is a terraced city, though the incline is of a rather low grade. The change in elevation is only significant when viewed from either the base or the peak. This would be our first time looking down on the city from its highest point, the mansion belonging to the lord of thieves.

I was alerted by the gentle lurch as the carriage came to a stop. I pressed up against the window at my side. The wall that surrounded Cadius’s estate stretched out before us. Constructed from stone blocks, the perimeter wall stood fifteen or so feet tall and five feet wide, the worn and weather-beaten stone evinced its age and solidity.

It had only taken a minute or so for the iron gates swing open. The carriage lurched into motion as the driver coaxed the horses forward.

Cadius’s estate occupied the exact center of Lowestoft. Sunlight flitted through the trees as our carriage made its way along the meandering path.

Lloyd estimated the property to be at least ten acres, judging by size of the wall.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Estimated?” I raised an eyebrow. Lloyd usually knew tidbits like that.

There was a pause. “I just haven’t gotten around to reading up on this place, is all.”

“Uh-huh,” I flashed him a smug smile, earning me a painful jab to my flank.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Bluh…” I grumbled, holding up a hand to shield my eyes from the evening sun. Behind me, Lloyd, Vale, and Mokh stepped out of the carriage making similarly disgruntled expressions. Of the three, our carriage had been at the head of the procession. One after the other, the eight remaining contestants stepped out onto the stone circular driveway and drifted towards the front entrance of the mansion where a familiar figure stood with hands held behind his back.

“Welcome to the final round. Please gather over here so we can begin the explanation,” shouted Wolfram. His eyes roved over the gathered crowd, and when they found Lloyd and I he gave us a brief nod.

“Congratulations to those of you who have made it this far. The final game will take place here, within the grounds of the estate. First, please take these,” he said, retrieving from his vest pocket a number of white, rectangular cards, holding the stack between his thumb and index finger. A dark mass flowed swiftly from beneath his sleeve, up his forearm, and over his hand, enveloping the cards. It then returned, leaving his hand empty. I felt something pop out from between my folded arms.

There were two or three muttered words of surprise from the group. On the other hand, Mokh, despite having been good enough at the dice game to get into the top twelve, was so startled that he fumbled nearly dropped his card.

As Wolfram spoke, I investigated the card. “On one side you’ll see your name along with the rank from the previous round.” Sure enough, there it was, Von Katergaris, #8. “On the other, you’ll find a number, one through twelve. That is your target for this round.” The flipside of the card had the number three written on it.

Curious, I leaned over and stole a peek at Lloyd’s card. His had a seven on it.

“The name of the game is Assassin. As the name implies, you’ll be hunting down and dispatching your target using these,” he reached behind his back and pulled out a leather glove. He deftly slipped it on his right hand and then ran it along his left forearm, leaving behind a light-red glowing mark.

“A player is considered dead when either their heart, neck, or head is marked. Once you have been 'assassinated', you must immediately hand over your card to your 'killer'. Before you ask, the glove will only mark a target if they are listed on one of the cards you possess. The game will continue until only one person remains. Once you hand over the card, make your way back to the mansion where you will wait for the game to conclude.” Wolfram paused, “Are there any questions? No? Then, please take one of these,” he reached beneath his cloak and pulled out a box.

As Lloyd and I waited for the crowd to thin, I could see that the box contained gloves of all sizes and even gloves with somewhat elongated fingers, presumably made for the long nails of a Ratatoskr. Mokh reached over the crowd to grab an oversized glove for himself.

Once everyone had their equipment, the front doors of the mansion burst open, and we were greeted by another familiar face. Cadius wore an excited smile as he scanned the crowd. His eyes settled on us. “Hey, Von, Lloyd! Congratulations on getting eighth and nineth place!” he shouted with an innocent grin plastered on his face.

Son of a-. For some godforsaken reason, I hadn’t anticipated this, despite knowing Cadius as well as I do. Of course the bastard would wait until the best possible moment to fuck with us.

Beside me, Lloyd was groaning. Wolfram simply stood there, mouth agape in horror. The reactions from the other players was a mix of amusement, confusion, and pity.

“Thanks. By the way,” my mouth curved into a smile, “when do you want that book back, you know, the one about-”

Cadius’s eyes went wide, his mischievous grin replaced by a placating smile. “Woahwoahwoah! Let’s not discuss that here!”

Pft, serves you right.

“Anyways, I just wanted to wish you all luck!” he hastily said, scurrying back into the mansion, the doors shut by a pair of maids.

A prolonged, awkward silence ensued.

“Ahem,” Wolfram cleared his throat. “That aside, let’s start the game.”