Godrick Braxand couldn’t believe that he’d taken nearly every precaution he could–even going so far as to hire a Mid Silver for the bout–and Samantha Cray still managed to exceed his expectations. He thought he’d accounted for her fast advancement speed, but even though he was experiencing her killing intent first hand, he could hardly bring himself to believe it. Speeding through Copper and reaching Low Bronze in a handful of months like she did on the first floor was unusual, yes, but not completely unheard of. The Copper Tier could be pushed through quickly enough with the right resources or ample luck, though it’d leave the cultivator underpowered for their rank. To ascend from Low Bronze to Low Silver in roughly the same amount of time…? Now that was truly impossible, no matter the increased qi density here.
The only logical explanation he could come up with was that Harold Greene had crafted her more cultivation elixirs, but that didn’t completely fit this situation. If she’d advanced using elixirs then she shouldn’t have been able to conceal her aura to this degree. It should’ve been immediately obvious that she was freshly Low Silver and still getting used to her new strength. She shouldn’t be able to direct her killing intent like this either– where it affected the enemy in front of her without spilling over onto the allies behind her at all–because that kind of aura manipulation took years to get the hang of in general. Beyond her aura control, the way she was looking down at him like he was some pest overdue for extermination… the Samantha Cray he knew would never have worn such an expression. This was beyond hatred or disdain–which he could understand, given the situation–this was the look of an experienced killer. Clinical. Calculated. Cold. Like he was a specimen to be picked apart more than he was an enemy. That, too, was an outlook that was impossible to gain in such a short span of time. He’d heard some of the raiders speak of Rifts and how time could flow oddly within them, but he didn’t see how even continuous treasure hunting in those spaces could’ve had this pronounced of an effect on the girl. There was some crucial piece of this puzzle he was missing, and that oversight may very well be his end.
He tried to glance over to his hired assassin to try and get a read on how things would unfold, but the way his stomach was twisting itself into knots made things difficult. As if the gnawing dread he felt weren’t bad enough, the killing intent of a Low Silver was even more horrible than he’d imagined. He felt like he was constantly on the brink of being ill. Some of his companions had already become ill, by the sounds of it.
In truth, the assassin was only meant to initiate the kill contract against Samantha under very specific conditions. Though he’d planned for a wide variety of outcomes, at the heart of it, the assassin was there for insurance. If Samantha showed promise–whether that was through her showing in the duel or her resourcefulness trying to weasel out of it–he could threaten her with the assassination contract to get her to swear oaths and obey him. If he suspected she was going to betray him, or he didn’t believe he’d be able to intimidate her effectively enough to make her useful, then the kill contract served as a security net in the event he, himself failed to kill her. Having the Mid Silver be the one to participate in the duel was just a way to reinforce the knowledge of the contract’s seriousness, and that death would be inescapable if she went against him. The wide gap in strength also meant there was a good chance the assassin could defeat her without killing or maiming her, thus preserving her utility. Now though…
“I thank you for your patience. I’ve finished speaking with the guild meister,” the assassin said with an even tone. They bowed politely in the general direction of both he and Samantha.
The suffocating killing intent pouring out of Samantha did not so much as waver as she replied. “That was quick. So, what’ll it be? Canceled contract? Kill me only after getting paid more?”
“I’m usually not at liberty to discuss the details of my contracts.” The assassin looked down at him unhurriedly, and without concern. “Given these unique circumstances, I believe I can at least tell you that the contract I was originally hired for will not be executed as agreed upon.”
“Really? Just like that?” Samantha asked incredulously.
The assassin looked back up to her with an unsettlingly smooth motion. “Of course. We are consummate professionals, and this scenario falls outside the purview of the contract.”
“So, you won’t mind if I kill him?”
“Well…”
“W-wait!” He said weakly. He hated the way his voice was trembling, but he couldn’t remain silent as this was going on. “Tell her everything. I give… permission.”
Maybe if she knew that he didn’t intend on killing her outright she’d show mercy. Or, maybe he could figure out how to renegotiate the contract right now to get rid of her. Either was preferable to being slain.
He thought he saw a small sigh escape the assassin–one of the few tells of any emotion he’d seen from the stranger thus far. “...By your order.”
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“...with a contract against a Low Silver being vastly different from that against a Low Bronze, you understand why I cannot justify fulfilling it with only the sum we were paid. We will keep the full payment as recompense for our time and the inconvenience caused. However, the meister has offered to let Sir Braxand open a new, more… appropriately compensated… contract should he so choose–though, full payment up front will be required.”
Samantha laughed and gave Lord Braxand a demeaning look. “This is pathetic.” She nodded somewhat apologetically to the assassin. “No offense to you.”
“None taken.”
She turned her attention back to Lord Braxand. “I’d left something out the last time we spoke. About why I had revealed myself to you in Gateway, I mean. It wasn’t just about gauging whether you would put our past history aside for the greater goals of the World Spire. I was also there to judge if you were going to be a problem for this floor, and how much of your family I’d need to wipe out before that problem was solved.” Lord Braxand’s eyes widened. “After this debacle, I have my answer.”
The assassin stepped between them for the first time. “Now, now. Before all that, I must hear my client’s answer to the meister’s proposal.”
The assassin must have finally used their aura to protect against her killing intent, because Lord Braxand and his people seemed to breathe easy all at once and scrambled up unsteadily from the sands. The two Low Bronzes wiped the bile from their lips, while the three Mid Bronzes took deep breaths to try and clear the nausea from their systems.
“I accept,” Lord Braxand answered quickly. “Will you escort us safely back to Centra so we can discuss the contract in detail?”
“Protection duties are not within the standard purview of an Assassin.”
Samantha was gratified when she saw a flash of panic ripple through his cultivation base.
“True enough! But seeing as I’ve accepted an offer the guild meister made directly, surely it wouldn’t be good form to leave me unprotected with the target before it can come to fruition?” When the assassin gave no indication they were convinced, he continued. “While I agree my information wasn’t correct, the onus of researching the target is also partly on the guild, yes? I won’t protest you keeping the full amount for the faulty contract, but I think it’s fair to request an escort to a location to draft another.”
“Hmm…” the assassin hummed thoughtfully. “It is true that I opted not to purchase any data from the Informant’s Guild due to the stated rank difference. Perhaps that would’ve revealed pertinent information.”
Samantha’s patience with listening to this ridiculous conversation ran out. “Before you decide, I want you to know that he’s asking you to die for him right now.” The assassin didn’t turn to look at her, but the already-tense atmosphere seemed to instantly freeze. The unnatural chill amongst the otherwise unrelenting heat of the desert seemed to seep into her next words. “I have no quarrel with you, but if you stand in my way, I’ll kill you too.”
Before the assassin could respond, the loud clinking of glass vials drew everyone’s attention. Harold pulled a protective gas mask over his face in a smooth, practiced movement with one hand, and drew back his other to throw an alchemical bundle. Communicating to her privately via their [Liaison] connection, the four simple words he said next sent her clambering back towards their group: ‘[Desert Breeze] shield dome’.
Harold let out a gleeful cackle as he chucked his payload high into the air. “Now you’re talking!”
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When in the midst of her companions, Samantha did as warned and covered the group in a protective layer of wind.
“Sandy! [Urticating Hair Volley]!” Samantha heard Harold command through the entire [Liaison] web.
“Yes, my Harold!”
The fine hairs across Sandy’s exoskeleton that Samantha hadn’t paid much attention to until now seemed to thicken, harden, and elongate until they were about the length of a finger and width of a sewing needle. With a flick of her body that caused her abdomen to briefly raise up into the air like a scorpion’s tail, countless splinter-like hairs were flung forward towards the bundle of vials. Due to the speed and profile of the hairs, passing through the layer of [Desert Breeze] only caused their trajectory to shift slightly, and a majority of the cloud of projectiles hit their intended target.
First, there was the crisp tinkling sound of shattering glass. Then, a noise that reminded her of steak sizzling in a hot pan. Finally, there was a loud ‘puff’, and a blue cloud of fog or dust burst outwards in a circle at least 100 or 200 feet in diameter with the vials as its epicenter. The particles began to rain down from overhead and scattered across an even larger area as they were kicked around by the natural breeze, becoming nigh impossible to see as its concentration became thinner and thinner.
Their enemies were quick to act as soon as Harold threw the vials. Lord Braxand’s people used an earth-dominant art to quickly turn the sand into a small bunker–with four of the cultivators handling the formation of the thin walls, and one handling the roof’s construction. The Assassin, not included in that protective measure, threw out their arms wide as if preparing for an embrace. Then, the many layers of wrappings around their limbs began to unfurl as if they were alive. Similar to how the material of her shield could be malleable or rigid when needed, it seemed these clothes the assassin wore were the same. The strips began glowing in her spiritual sight with metal and earth energies, and they formed a protective umbrella over the Assassin’s head.
“A little more warning next time, maybe?!” Samantha scolded Harold through [Liaison].
“With how fast you are? That was more than enough time!” he chuckled, dismissing her concern. He wasn’t totally wrong, but it still irritated her.
“Is that really something you should be betting on when dealing with deadly concoctions?”
“It’s not deadly, exactly… and in 30 seconds it’ll be mostly inert to anyone who hasn’t already gotten it in their airways, skin, or eyes. Speaking of which, could you punch a hole in that shelter? It’d be a waste if this only got to the Mid Silver. You can use this.” He tossed her a vial with black liquid inside, which she caught easily. “Your arm is better than mine, and that Assassin looks like they’ll try and intercept it.”
“What is it?”
“Does that matter? All you need to do is throw it.”
She sighed, but cocked back her arm without further questions. Rather than throwing it directly at the structure–since, by the way that some of the Assassin’s cloth ‘limbs’ were stretching out in front of the shelter it did look like they’d try and catch it or knock it away–she aimed far to the left so that it seemed her aim was off. The Assassin looked confused for a moment… until the vial unexpectedly changed direction and smashed into the side of the structure where they couldn’t easily reach. Since the vial was so light, she didn’t even need to use much qi to manipulate its trajectory with [Telekinesis]. Very quickly the wall and part of the ceiling began to disintegrate where the black liquid splashed onto it, as if it were turning back into regular sand. A large hole opened up and allowed the pale blue contaminate to fall in. The Braxands sealed the gap within seconds, but that didn’t seem to bother Harold any. She couldn’t see his full expression from behind the mask he wore, but his eyes were crinkled by what she suspected was a smile.
Both parties remained in awkward silence for what felt like ages. Neither moved from their position in fear of getting the mysterious substance on them.
“Alright, that should be long enough. You can drop [Desert Breeze] if you want. Oh, wait, let me do a little show first for their benefit.”
Harold spoke aloud for everyone to hear. “Wow! Mid Silvers are tougher than I thought. It didn’t even irritate your eyes!” He shook his head in amazement. “And I don’t think the Braxands got a full dose either. Samantha, I think you should just let them go for now–”
Mercer subtly nudged Harold’s back and spoke under his breath. “Less is more.” Then, he too raised his voice. “Keep a careful eye on them. Even though our attack failed I doubt they’ll take kindly to the attempt.”
The Assassin looked at them with obvious suspicion, but, after nothing bad seemed to happen, the strips of cloth re-coiled around their body. They knocked a few times on the sandy wall. “Come out, we’re leaving.”
One of the walls disintegrated and a Mid Bronze poked their head out to evaluate the situation. When it was determined it was safe, the rest of the structure came down and the groups stared each other down.
“What’s the play here, Harold?” Samantha questioned through [Liaison]. “You can’t really expect me to let them go. And what about your own desire for vengeance? The city is less than 10 miles away. For a cultivator that’s nothing. If they reach Centra–”
He cackled again into her mind, cutting off her train of thought. “They won’t be getting that far. We will be getting justice today. Besides, I said this powder was mostly inert now. Trust me… you don’t want to be fighting here and risk kicking particles back up. They can stick in your system for months.”
The Braxands and the Assassin backed away, heading towards Centra at a quick clip. The Braxands rode atop their mounts while the Assassin ran alongside them. She grit her teeth watching them go, but resolved to take Harold at his word. When it came to the effects of his alchemy, he was rarely–if ever–wrong.
“...Fine. Let’s get out of here then. Silas, can you keep an eye on their progress? I want to know where they’re at when Harold’s concoction kicks in.”
“Yup!” Silas agreed. Then, he activated [Translucence] to hide himself and took flight.
As he headed off, Samantha looked back to Harold. “So, what exactly is your blue powder supposed to do? And why such a delayed effect?”
Harold smiled. “If the effect was immediate, we might’ve been in trouble. People do unexpected things when in unimaginable pain.”
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‘Shroud’ still wasn’t feeling right after getting dusted by the blue substance. It was certainly a poison–she could tell that much–but perhaps the alchemist’s surprise at her condition was genuine. Silvers like herself were already very resilient, but she also was required to be poison tolerant due to her profession. Until there was a distinct reaction, she wouldn’t know what antidote or countermeasure to apply.
A minute passed, then another, and Shroud’s feeling of foreboding grew. There was a slight… tingling. Not just around her eyes where her skin was exposed, but everywhere. That wasn’t too concerning in and of itself… until the mounts began to react.
The first to succumb to the effects–some unfamiliar horse-like creature–began screeching something awful and bucking wildly. It bucked its Low Bronze rider to the sands and unintentionally trampled them. It threw itself into the sands and rolled on the ground, as if trying to take a dust bath, and though she could see no external signs of wounds it was clearly in distress. Before long it began foaming at the mouth, then galloped in random directions frantically. The other mounts–a mix of other quadrupeds–soon followed suit.
The Bronzes were the next to react. For the Low Bronzes the effect was quite severe. They screamed, wept, vomited, soiled themselves, and clawed at their skin with their fingernails such that long, bloodied gashes were left behind. Her client, the High Bronze, was the only one who’d kept it together enough to tell her it felt like he was being burned alive.
Then, Shroud felt it. Oh. She felt it. Being burned alive was not an appropriate descriptor.
Every fiber of her being was alight in agony as it felt like her nerves were being continuously seared. It was like the pain of mistakenly touching a hot cooking stove, but everywhere, and there was no relief from the sensation. Had she not been expecting it, she would’ve been convinced she was dying. Her body insisted she was perishing… yet there was no injury that manifested. There was only the torment that suffused her–mind, body, and soul.
She was no stranger to pain. Guild members had to pass a ‘course’ on enduring torture before becoming official, to ensure that they could not be coerced into revealing client details. This was on an entirely new level. If she’d been forced to experience this during the entrance test, she never would’ve made it.
The effects of this poison classified it as a textbook nerve agent. Unfortunately, due to the severity of the effects, the only stopgap in her possession was an equally dangerous countermeasure. It was a concoction all members were given upon initiation into the ranks, and was only meant to be used when it was fully expected they were going to perish on their mission: ‘Dead End’. It would completely shut off her ability to feel pain, but made every movement dangerous. Without the ability to properly gauge her own strength, she’d likely tear herself apart as she moved.
That was a price she was willing to pay, if it meant she could feel nothing.
She quickly swallowed the potion, and nearly wept with joy when the pain subsided into nothing more than a too-close-for-comfort memory. However, she was all too aware that the effects of her countermeasure wouldn’t last forever, and she had no idea how long this poison would persist. She needed to get the antidote from the alchemist, and–
She glimpsed the shadow of a rapidly approaching object and dove to the right to avoid it. There was a large explosion of sand and dust where she’d just been standing, and when she looked back, she saw a rusted, two handed sword stuck hilt-deep into the ground. She tried to stand, but by the way her right leg suddenly felt unresponsive and stiff she suspected she’d already tore something. She swallowed a high-grade medicinal to heal the damage, only for another shadow to catch her eye. This one wasn’t aimed at her, but instead impaled a Low Bronze nearby. The spear passed completely through his back and nailed him to the ground, but he didn’t even seem to notice as he was already in such agony. Looking at the angle of the weapon impacts, she guessed the general direction of her attacker and started running towards them. She suspected she knew exactly who she’d find on the other end of her search.