Tobias chucked a rusted straight sword through the rift just before it snapped shut. As she had with the previous two projectiles, Samantha attached her projection to the weapon and guided it to its intended target with [Telekinesis]. They’d only had enough time to do three well-placed throws--each taking roughly 15 seconds to travel the 2-3 miles between the portal and Braxand’s group–but her main goal hadn’t been to take them all out from afar. It’d been to lure their Silver protector away. After successfully impaling a Mid Bronze with the sword, she returned to her body and reviewed her qi pool and expenditure. Seeing that she still had nearly 400 qi after such heavy art usage…? Even with a Mythic cycling pattern, she was finding it difficult to believe.
Her maximum pool size was currently reduced from 669.6 to 649.6 due to reserving 20 total qi for her personal domain and [Liaison] connections, and her qi regeneration was effectively down from +3.3 qi/minute to +2.8 qi/minute due to Silas’s usage of [Translucence] requiring 0.5 qi/minute. Using [Desert Breeze] to protect everyone from Harold’s concoction earlier had only cost 2.7 qi because of the relatively small area of effect, moderate influence on wind movement, and short duration. Opening a rift to relocate her group to a spot that hid them behind a large sand dune about 4 miles from the dueling area cost her 70.9 qi, and extending the rift’s duration once so that Tobias had more time to throw weapons through it consumed another 30.9 qi. Accessing her personal domain to fetch said weapons had cost 40 qi. She’d also spent 50 qi manipulating the paths of the fast moving, 5-10 pound weapons with [Telekinesis] so that they’d have a decent shot of actually nailing a target. Finally, counting the qi she’d regenerated in this short time, this next rift she planned to open (which would bring her directly to the incapacitated and undefended Braxands), required 58.8 qi, which would bring her remaining reserves down to 399.1 qi.
As she prepared to form the newest rift, Harold clicked his tongue at her. “I have more alchemicals that could probably deal with the Silver, you know? It’d be a lot less work than this.”
Samantha paused her feeding qi into the art and rolled her eyes at him. “If the assassin is as practical as they seem and this works, I doubt it. Once their client is dead they’ll have no reason to continue acting as opposition.”
“Besides being poisoned?” Harold pointed out.
“You have the antidote, don’t you?”
“I have an antidote for every poison I’ve created,” he scoffed. “I’m just not convinced I should give such a precious resource to an assassin.”
“You’d rather use other expensive and rare poisons to try and kill them instead?”
“If letting them live means they’re going to keep trying to murder us, then yes.”
“They already refused to complete the contract.”
“That was before I poisoned them!”
Samantha continued forming the art with a shake of her head. “Let’s just… evaluate the situation as it comes?”
“And here I thought you were some battle-hardened fighter now,” Harold lamented. “You’ve still got soft spots. Stupid ones.” Mercer gave Harold a look, and Harold frowned at him in return. “I’m not taking that back. I stand by it.”
Mercer looked at Tobias in a silent request for additional support, to which Tobias responded by holding up both hands in a placating gesture. “Uh… I think it’s fine either way?”
The tear in space finished forming and the rift opened with a burst of wind and sound. Samantha sighed in exasperation as she stepped through to the other side. “If it comes down to it I’ll kill them and not lose any sleep over it. I’d just rather avoid needless death when I have the power to do so.”
“I’d argue you’re causing more deaths by leaving the highly advanced assassin alive,” Harold grumbled as he followed her through the opening.
When everyone had safely passed through the rift she closed it behind them rather than wait for its duration to expire. Turning her attention to the grim task at hand, she glanced over the macabre scene before her with dispassion. Of the six mounts the Braxands had originally traveled with, two had run off at full speed and were completely absent from the vicinity, two were frantically galloping and changing directions randomly, one laid on the ground twitching and foaming at the mouth, and one looked to have somehow broken its own neck and laid dead. The Low and Mid Bronze that she’d speared with long range attacks were kneeling in rapidly expanding circles of blood-red sand, and appeared to be near death. The initial injuries she’d caused them–which she hadn’t managed to make immediately fatal due to their sporadic movements and difficulty with quickly altering the strong momentum of Tobias’s thrown projectiles– seemed to have worsened greatly with their pained thrashing. The remaining Low and Mid Bronzes didn’t seem to register her group’s approach at all, and only Lord Braxand showed any acknowledgement of her presence. His face was contorted and twisted with torment, his every muscle tensed with shivers of agony, and his eyes were unfocused and filled with tears, but the energy in his dantian raged with hatred.
Samantha drew her spear and walked towards Ol’ Man Whisper with steady steps, trying to quiet the cruel whispers in the back of her mind that urged her to savor her victory a little longer.
This isn’t about me, or my vengeance! It’s about not leaving a mess behind for someone else to deal with.
Step.
C’mon! Let loose a little… twist the blade! No one would blame you for taking in the view.
Step.
No. I don’t want to be that kind of person.
Step.
I-di-ot! Look around you. You already are. You have been for a long time now.
Step.
I didn’t do this. Harold did. I’m just adapting to the situation.
Step.
Hehe, is that what you’re telling yourself? Be honest! You wanted this. You knew how Harold was when you invited him along. You would’ve been disappointed if it didn’t turn out this way.
Step.
I didn’t want this at all! I was trying to leave the past in the past.
Step.
If that were true, you wouldn’t have reached out to the old man in the first place. You would’ve eaten the financial loss and went to another obelisk.
Her steps faltered slightly.
Hey, don’t get me wrong, this is definitely the right move! These Braxands will poison everything they touch just like Harold poisoned them. You need to cut out the infection before it gets a chance to spread. In fact, there are a lot of infections you could ‘cure’ since you’re already on your way to the next floor! You think you’re the only ascendant those Delver’s have interfered with? As if they–cowards hiding on the comfort of their floor–have any claim to rifts that are rightfully for people like us?
Stop!
The guild system in general is a hindrance for everyone, when you really think about it! Don’t you think it’d be better if you just–
Shut up!
–burnt it all down? Who can stop you, hm? No one! You could destroy them from miles away and vanish before they even get close!
Samantha stopped in front of Lord Braxand and the dark voice blessedly grew silent.
“I was… wrong… about you,” Lord Braxand hissed between gritted teeth. “You… have it… after all. The… obelisk…”
She positioned her spear to strike at his heart, but hesitated when she noticed an oddity in his cultivation base. All the energy in his body was being drawn towards his right arm.
“Everyone dodge!” she sent through the [Liaison] web. Then, investing 10 qi into [Whirlwind], she stepped far to the side of Lord Braxand so as not to be caught in the attack. Tobias–not questioning the urgent command in the slightest–grabbed Harold around the waist and dove to side with all the Strength and Agility his body afforded him. Sandy, and by extension Mercer who was riding atop her back, completely disappeared beneath the surface of the sands in an instant.
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A cone of pure force shot forward from the High Bronze’s punch, kicking up a huge cloud of sand as the released energy exploded outwards. Unable to handle the blowback from the powerful art, the bones in Lord Braxand’s hand and arm promptly shattered, and the limb whipped floppily backwards like a flag in the wind. The entire area was briefly shaded from the harsh sunlight as falling motes of dust hung thick in the air.
When the dust settled a few short seconds later Samantha was able to clearly evaluate everyone’s condition. Her group was distinctly more filthy than before, but unhurt. Fortunately, though incredibly destructive, the cone only had a short range of about 10 feet.
“Sam! The assassin is turning back to check out the big cloud,” Silas warned her from his watchpoint overhead. “Should I try and stall them?”
She stared down at the collapsed, exhausted man. Lord Braxand had at some point fallen face first into the sand, panting heavily and trembling like a leaf in a storm. With his entire qi pool emptied by that final ploy, he was weaker and more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him.
“No. I won’t need long.”
Once again she lined up her spear for a deadly blow to his heart. She half expected him to produce some final trick as she plunged the weapon downwards. However, apart from the briefest resistance the robes he was wearing provided against the stabbing attack, the weapon pierced through his back easily enough. It was almost too easy. Suspiciously easy. But, when his cultivation base was thoroughly dimmed and snuffed by death, there was no denying that his end was final. With the most coherent member of their group slain, the other Braxands fell quickly after. One even thanked her for ending his suffering as she prepared to cut him down.
As she was cleaning the fresh gore from her spear the returning assassin came into view. They were running quickly and would reach them in less than a minute.
Harold cleared his throat to get her attention as he noted their approach. “To reiterate… you want to give the assassin–who was hired to target you–a chance to kill you first instead of getting rid of them outright? Or even fleeing the scene?”
“You can leave right now if you want! I’m not asking you to stay,” she suggested in mild irritation, gesturing in the general direction of Centra.
“Oh, no no,” he declined. “If you’re going to get yourself killed by going against my expert advice, I want to be here to say ‘I told you so’ once you… uh… you know.”
She looked him up and down skeptically. “If they succeed in killing me you’d be following suit shortly after.”
He waved the comment off, unconcerned. “Then you can tell me ‘I told you so’ instead.”
When the assassin finally reached them, they glanced over the slain Braxands with a sort of casual boredom. After a few seconds, they spoke. “Ah.”
Samantha remained quiet and waited for the assassin to express their intent. Harold watched the stranger with a tenseness that was somewhere between readiness and nervousness.
“I suppose that’s that, then,” the assassin eventually said in a completely neutral and uninterested tone. They turned to Harold and gave him a polite bow. “Might you possess the antidote for this dreadful poison? I’m not interested in re-experiencing the sensation after my numbing agent wears off.”
“Why should I? So you can seek your revenge freely?”
The assassin tilted their head curiously at Harold. “Why would I do such a thing?”
“Because we poisoned you!” Harold’s words were so incredulous that they almost sounded like a question.
“And I was hired to potentially kill Samantha Cray,” the assassin stated matter-of-factly. “But the original contract is invalid, and the client who might draft another lies dead. Thus, our business here is concluded.”
“You can’t seriously think I’ll believe you.”
“Perhaps a show of my sincerity is needed to convince you?” Shocking everyone present, the assassin entered into a full kowtow with palms facing upwards in supplication. “I swear a cultivator’s oath that I bear none here ill will, and humbly beg your forbearance towards the circumstances of our meeting.”
A Mid Silver cultivator has offered you an oath (Oathbreaker Marks: 0). Violating this vow will result in the promiser receiving a permanent Oathbreaker Mark.
Accept? Y/N
For a Mid Silver to behave in such a way towards a Low Bronze was unthinkable. Even Harold–who normally had a remark readied for any occasion–seemed flabbergasted. “H-have you no pride?” he blurted out.
“None, master alchemist,” they answered simply. “Such volatile emotions are stripped from us, that we may be more effective tools to be wielded.”
“What a bunch of crazies!” Harold mumbled to himself under his breath.
“Some say that, yes,” the assassin easily agreed, which caused Harold to jump. After several long moments of silence, they added, “I can understand your suspicion, as well as any reluctance you may feel about simply giving away a valuable alchemical. I also recognize that even if I kill you in search of the antidote, I may not be able to determine which substance you’re carrying is the correct one in time, provided you have it on your person at all and it doesn’t get destroyed in the scuffle. So, how about a trade? Spared life for spared life.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Should you give me a legitimate curative, the guild will refuse the next contract taken out against those present.”
“That’s too easy to circumvent,” Harold protested. “Contracts could be made back to back, which makes the protection essentially nonexistent.”
“A time frame, then? One month of full immunity from contracts for everyone here.”
Harold looked around to the group for feedback, and no one had any immediate objections.
“I planned to ascend soon anyway,” Samantha commented. “If you’re coming along, we could reasonably be off the floor by then. The time frame would be a little tight, though.”
Harold looked at Samantha thoughtfully, then down to the still-kowtowing assassin. “Make it three months and you have a deal.”
The assassin stood and dusted the sand off of their knees. “That should be no issue.” They pulled a palm-sized, jade disc from beneath one of the many cloths wrapped around their body. The intricate carved scripts circling the surface of the disk pulsed slowly with dim blue light several times before a gentle glow was sustained. Then the assassin held the disk in an outstretched hand for someone to take it. “This token is a physical marker of your immunity to contracts. When the agreed upon time frame has elapsed, it will alert you by breaking. I will also warn you that going back on our deal in any way will cause the token to break immediately.”
Tobias spoke to the group with [Liaison]. “I’ll handle any trade offs since they can’t do me any real harm.”
“Good thinking,” Samantha agreed. “And hand things to me first instead of Harold.” She didn’t say it explicitly in case the assassin could somehow tap into the mental connections, but the implication was understood by everyone. If there was some poison coating that didn’t affect constructs, but would kill her or Harold, it was better for Samantha to discover it since she could revive herself.
Tobias went up and took the disk before handing it off to Samantha, as instructed. As soon as she touched it a notification appeared.
Assassin’s Guild Immunity Token
Granter: Shroud
Condition: Spared life for spared life
Status: Pending
Duration remaining: 3 months
Grantees (0/6): Please feed your qi into the token to register as a grantee
She raised her eyebrows at seeing the prompt.
“Something wrong with it?” Harold questioned, still suspicious.
“Not exactly.” Samantha looked up to who she assumed was ‘Shroud’, the granter. “Does your guild give out a lot of immunity tokens?”
The fact that a physical token like this existed at all was a testament to the fact that they had been needed previously. Immediately, her mind went to that of guild leaders. She doubted that the other guilds would’ve taken kindly to letting an Assassin’s Guild establish itself without some way to protect their most important members. She imagined that the assassins were useful enough to be kept around and hired by other guilds, but these tokens and members’ strict adherence to a contract’s stipulations acted as controls.
“I’m not permitted to answer that,” Shroud responded dryly. “I’d also recommend giving me the antidote before anyone registers as a grantee, or the disk may break.”
Samantha handed the disk off to Harold so he could see the same notification that she had. After he read through it, he let out a heavy breath and shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m really sparing an assassin.” Opening his spatial storage, he retrieved a glass bottle and gave it to Tobias to pass to Shroud. “It takes a few minutes to work after you drink it, but you’ll be fully cured with a single dose.”
Shroud took the glass bottle from Tobias and bowed low at the waist to the group. “Then I consider the condition fulfilled. Please, do consider hiring us if you ever find yourself needing an ‘obstacle’ removed. As you’ve experienced firsthand, our professionalism is unmatched.” With those ‘parting words’, Shroud turned and started jogging back towards Centra.
As everyone stood around somewhat awkwardly while watching the assassin leave, Mercer piped up to fill the silence. “That’s one of the more interesting sale’s pitches I’ve come across! Top three, at least.”
That comment broke through the weird ‘waiting’ everyone had gotten stuck in after the assassin’s departure, and life resumed its normal course. Samantha, Harold, Sandy, and Silas–who she had to call down from his flight–all registered as grantees with the token. Tobias and Mercer chose not to, as they were unsure how their being constructs would affect things and they couldn’t be assassinated anyway. Samantha took ownership of the disk and kept it in her spatial storage since Harold’s was apparently stuffed to the brim with various potions. Rather than finding its presence reassuring, it only reminded her of the unresolved problem she had regarding her parents. She never planned on staying on this floor overlong to figure things out… but ‘soon’ was a nebulous future in a way that ‘three months’ wasn’t.
Unlike with her situation on the first floor, she didn’t feel entirely forced to ascend as soon as her immunity ran out. Now that Godric Braxand was dead there weren’t many people who would be interested in taking out a contract on her. When she paid another ‘visit’ to Gateway, there’d probably be even less. Perhaps some members of the Delver’s guild would consider it, but she expected an Assassin’s services weren’t so affordable that just anyone could hire them. Additionally, existing on the floor without immunity is what she’d been doing this entire time, so it’s not as if the situation had dramatically changed in any way. Still, having this artificial time limit forced her to confront the fact that both she and her parents had been dancing around the problem for weeks now. At some point or another, they’d need to choose a path forward… whatever that may be.