A trinkle of crimson stole my attention. I watched as the drops slowly rolled off flesh and fell. Each drop leaving a trail of red as they stained all they touched. A single drop, larger than the rest, began to fall. I let my eyes wander, let them follow the drop. Let them watch as the drop carved a path down the neck and fell. Watched as it fell to the crimson pile that stained the white marble road. The road that led to the cathedral of Min Lochter. Where it all began. Where I was first summoned.

I felt reality rend as magic took form around me. Whispers forced their way directly into my mind, like the filthy parasite they were. The whispers flooded into my mind and chewed on my thoughts. I was half tempted to let them take my mind. To let myself fall into the enchanting whisper. But I couldn’t rest just yet. Not yet…

Temperance. With a thought the sigil on my neck activated. In less than a second all the whispers were cleared from my mind never to return. My thoughts flooded back in, senses returned, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I regained my awareness.

“You guys never give up. I suppose that persistence is commendable in a way. Still I thought you would have stopped bothering with mind magic by now. Personally, I would have stopped using it after it failed the one-hundredth time.” Only silence answered my words.

My attention returned to the crimson trails. This time I let my eyes follow them to their source. Up past the crimson drops, past the stain trails all the way to the bone dagger firmly stuck hilt deep into gray flesh. And the cold armored hand curled around the hilt.

My hand.

I moved my eyes up further, past the dagger and up to the face of the fourteenth royal guardsman I had fought today. Our eyes met, and I spent a few moments pondering what he must be feeling. The fear and shock were still plastered on his face. Yet, he must have known I would best him. Just like I did to all those who came before him. The sound of footsteps interrupted my chain of thoughts.

Courage. With the thought the dagger glowed and life began to drain from the royal guard’s face. The warm trickle of vitality perforated into my body. Flowing through the veins in my arm up to the glowing sigil on my neck. Its final resting place. The footsteps quickened and the sound began to swirl around me.

Assassins of the inner kingdom always use the same techniques. Every single time. They start by circling you, trying to use the sound to confuse you. The first always attacks from behind. A jumping attack to the right shoulder. Then the second and third come simultaneously both slashing at center mass. The fourth is a bowman, who always aims for the forehead. The fifth, the leader, attacks right after the arrow lands. Hiding his thrust directly behind the arrow.

As if to answer my very thoughts the assassins began their attack. Prudence. Another sigil activated. Time appeared to slow as my mind sped up. The assassins typically moved so fast that they were nothing more than a blur. But now each movement was easily telegraphed. Their movements as slow as dried molasses.

I ripped the dagger out from Mr. Fourteen’s neck and in one smooth motion steadied it right were the first would land. With my other hand I drew my hand crossbow and leveled it where the head of the second would appear. I felt the weight of the first assassin’s neck push against my arm as it was pierced by the dagger. As soon as I felt the weight, I fired the crossbow. When the arrow had cleared the flight groove, I released my grip and let the crossbow fall to the ground. In a practiced motion I drew my broadsword and slashed twice. One to slit the stomach of the third and another to parry the arrow of the fourth.

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Prudence began to end, and my mind slowed. I tilted my head to the side and waited. The instant Prudence ended all my attacks landed. The first was impaled, an arrow pierced the head of the second, the third was split across the middle, and the arrow harmlessly skidded off my blade. Shock filled the eye of the fifth as his blade pierced through were my head once was. I turned the edge of my broadsword and swung down splitting the fifth diagonally. The corpses fell in unison. Their blood flooding the marble road.

I pulled the dagger from the neck of the first and bent down to retrieve my crossbow. As I bent down another arrow passed over where my head once was. I picked up the hand crossbow and pulled the string taut. As I loaded a bolt, I scanned the buildings for the fourth assassin. The exquisite gothic architecture left plenty of places to hide. The walls of marble adorned with dark wood and gilded with gold would draw anyone’s eye. A glint from an upper window caught my attention. I jumped to the ground firing my crossbow as I fell. As my shoulder hit marble, I heard the soft clink of an arrow bouncing off the road soon followed by a wet thud. I raised my head only to see the body of the fourth assassin splattered on the road.

I peeled myself from the ground, dusted myself off, and swung the blood off my sword. I took my time collecting my bolts and cleaning the blood off my armor with whatever clean cloth I could scavenge from the bodies. Over the many battles I had come to enjoy the cleaning. It had become a ritual of sorts, a way for me to calm myself when all was said and done. Thunderous footsteps rang out as a dark shadow began to cover me. My eyes drifted from my dirtied sword and up to the armored giant before me.

“Your reputation proceeds you, Butcher of Alcoz.” The giant said. “I did not think you would make such quick work of the assassins.”

“Maybe if they would change their attack pattern they would last a few seconds longer.” I replied half-heartedly. Letting my attention return to my dirtied armor. “So, you obviously know who I am. But I can’t say I recognize you. Might I have the pleasure of hearing your name?”

“I am Isen, champion of the God Prince.” As Isen trumpeted out his title he took his seven-foot-tall axe and with one quick swing split the road in two, drawing a line between us. “By his divine word I have come to put an end to your vicious charge. However, I am not without mercy. If in a rare act of wisdom, you turn back now I shall not pursue you. But cross this line and only suffering awaits.”

With those words, Isen readied his axe above his head. Buildings shook as a thousand winds began to coalesce around the axe’s blade. Glowing runes peeled themselves off the blade and took form around Isen’s imposing figure. His eyes began to glow with a righteous fury as he readied himself for battle.

“What a shit name. Well Isen, it was nice getting to know you. However, I’ll have to refuse your generous offer. After all I happen to be after the very head of your ‘God Prince’ and I’d hate to keep Lato waiting.”

“A fool to the bitter end. Very well prepare yourself.”

I took a deep breath before passing over the line. Justice. The final sigil stormed awake. The magic trying to tear itself from my neck as power filled my very being. Isen swung. Windows burst and shingles flew off roofs as a hurricane of wind blew out from his axe. Despite its power the wind couldn’t move me. In response to his attack I simply raised the bone dagger and caught his strike head on. A wall of force shot past me as a shockwave exploded from where our blades met.

“How?” Isen muttered. Confusion plaguing his face.

“Looks like this won’t take long after all.”