I really hated rogues, myself included.

There was just something refreshing about a warrior swinging a weapon in your face, or a mage standing in the backline to cast AOE spells. The shanks from out of nowhere that rogues favored grated on my nerves, even though I could be considered a master of shanking.

“This is pointless, you know,” I said into the corridor. “We both have [Stealth], and I take notice of you during attacks anyway.”

The Assassin didn’t reply.

I inched toward the nearest wall, noting how it stood too far away for comfort. My enemy could stab me thrice before I crossed the distance. And, taunts aside, I didn’t want to find out what happened when the poison stacks reached five.

[Stealth] was a great tool for rapid engagement and disengagement, especially in dim lighting. But, it paled in comparison to [Dark Stalker] or true invisibility due to the need to maintain careful movement.

And, boy was this Assassin cautious. Which was just as well. He could afford to drag things out and wait for his poison to work. I didn’t possess the luxury. Sure, I itched to kill him . . . to put him in his place for daring to do the same to me.

But, I shouldn’t be too greedy. I’d eliminated the bulk of the threat. Byron would get the message whether one or none of his contract killers returned. And, if I was lucky enough, he would send more of them after me, granting the XP I needed to beat his ass.

There was no reason to stick around for cleanup. Not when this dude was just as dangerous as me.

[Dark Stalker] came off cooldown at that moment, reinforcing my decision.

I activated the ability, shifted positions, and bowed in the general direction of the Assassin. Well, then. Adios—

A sharp blade carved into my thigh. I lashed out in retaliation, only to hit empty air as the Assassin vanished into [Stealth].

He could see me! He could totally see me! The fucker had just cost me my escape card.

Fear rose like a rocket in my gut. Notifications regarding [Scaredy-cat] and the fourth stack of poison buzzed in the periphery. With [Dark Stalker] back on cooldown, I had no choice now but to stand my ground. But, what was the point of that when one more strike could mean my death?

“How did you do that?” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

The Assassin maintained his silence.

Keep calm, Damien. You need to goad him, not the other way around. He couldn’t sense me earlier through [Dark Stalker]. His psychic friend could do so with some trouble, but this Assassin should have lost that advantage with his demise.

The only thing that had changed since the start of our battle was the application of poison, and . . .

Oh.

I broke out into bitter laughter. An enemy’s health meter typically appeared upon taking damage: a visual cue that both [Stealth] and [Dark Stalker] obscured, going by past uses.

However, the poison applied damage over time, which was equivalent to being attacked—one of the conditions that ended [Dark Stalker].

I’d never encountered this particular weakness in any of my other battles, but now that I had, it was obvious from the start. [Dark Stalker] could successfully help sneak past Byron and his cohorts, but inflict some DoT, and I was as good as dead.

What a load of bullcrap.

Focus, Damien.

I still had Cure Ailments in my inventory, but even that meant nothing if I didn’t end the fight.

“You know,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “I’ve encountered rabbits in Dreadwood who fought better than you assholes. Died better too. I almost feel bad. Must suck that three rogues can’t beat one Assassin whose level is even lower than theirs.”

No reply, but he ought to have heard me. I wasn’t one to talk smack, but there was little else I could do, considering the circumstances.

DoT rendered [Dark Stalker] useless, leaving [Stealth] as my final resort. It wasn’t half as effective as covering myself in actual shadows, and a perceptive enemy could still see through my movements. [Stealth], however, suffered no penalties from attack or damage which was all I needed.

“I just want to note,” I continued, “that you idiots brought this on yourselves. How much were you paid to do me in? One gold piece? Three? If you used that money to organize a search party, do you think they would find every piece of your brother’s missing head?”

Movement, like the shifting of light, caught my attention. I turned in time to parry the Assassin’s attacks and answered with strikes of my own. He dropped a smoke bomb at my feet and faded out of sight.

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I faded too, taking advantage of the distraction. The Traveler’s Room stood a short distance away. If I could just—

Warning: HP has reduced to zero. True flesh will now take poison damage.

With a silent ping, the last of my HP disappeared. Without health armor to cushion the effects of the poison, an excruciating scream rose from my throat. My status condition was no longer a simple notification on a [System] screen. It had become real poison in my veins whose neurotoxic effects caused my toes and fingers to curl.

The sudden wave of pain sent me reeling to the ground, thrashing for relief.

“That took far too long for my liking,” the Assassin said, wading out of the smoke. “You almost broke me, I’ll give you that. But, he who laughs last laughs best.”

I gurgled in response, my throat clogging up in shock. I’d been keeping an eye on my health meter, but it seemed the fourth stack of the poison had accelerated the damage faster than I anticipated.

If four stacks could do this to me? What then could five?

Oh, god, no. What then could five?!

The Assassin spun his dagger, taking pleasure in my defeat. “Do you feel that? That’s the sensation of Envy swirling in your veins. It’s in meatspace now, which should help you realize how badly you are done for.

“People have suffered one stack of my poison in meatspace and wished instead for a bite from a Dread Snake. At five stacks, you would suffer respiratory paralysis and outright septic shock. Yet, even that is too good a death for you!”

He kicked my head, forcing a grunt from my lips. Without HP to rely on, the kick opened a cut above my eyebrow, sending blood down my face.

I could at least take comfort in that. Not in the kick, no . . .

I struggled to pull myself back from the brink of painful delirium.

. . . In the fact that I had succeeded in riling him up. I’d killed his brothers in front of him and joked about it to his face. There was little chance he would let this end quickly, which allowed me a brief window to retaliate.

And, sure, the poison hurt, but not as bad as the venom of the Primal Horse Snake Chimera. This one didn’t cause [Paralysis], at least. As long as I could reach my belt . . .

“You’re planning something,” the Assassin said, raising his knife. “If you think I’d let you—”

I didn’t need to think.

I poured mana into my belt and tossed it into the space between the Assassin and me. The concussion bombs left in the pouches went off simultaneously, throwing us both off our feet.

I summoned a Cure Ailments potion into my hand. It appeared a moment before I hit the ground. The quick drink spread from my throat to the rest of my body like spring water. The torment in my lungs eased.

You have ingested a Cure Ailments potion.

The [Poisoned] status has been removed.

The Assassin returned to his feet and sprang at me with [Toxic Blade] seeking death. Without health armor, I remained at a disadvantage. A single strike would leave me thrashing once more on the ground.

. . . if he could hit.

I vanished into the waiting arms of [Dark Stalker] without even bothering to stand. [Toxic Blade] struck an empty spot on the ground, and struck again as I rolled to safety.

[Fear Aura] flooded the corridor.

Assassin has resisted [Fear Aura]!

Not!

Still imitating a hedgehog, I dug The Blackreach Dagger into his knee. The Fear-infused blade lengthened with shadows and injected [Fear Aura] straight into health armor.

The Assassin lashed out with his foot, but the damage had been done. Fear took root within him, halting his movements.

You have afflicted the enemy Assassin with [Dismay]!

All of his stats had just dropped by [2]. If I was lucky, it meant that any attribute on the threshold had fallen to a lower tier. And, judging by the Assassin’s frantic motions, my guess had hit the mark.

Without a single wasted movement, I flew at my quarry. He parried my strike, but his angle was off. The Blackreach Dagger raked across his jugular, tearing a chunk off his HP.

I pressed the advantage, keeping the Assassin off kilter. Shadows surged from my blade at the last second of each strike, forcing the Assassin to take damage despite his parries.

A wild swing sailed over my head. I ducked beneath it and scored a crushing hit on his ribs. The Assassin staggered backward.

Terror consumed him as his worst fears became a reality. He only needed one hit to end the fight, yet, here he was on the backfoot unable to mount a proper defense.

He tried to fade into [Stealth] but a punch across the face rid him of that notion. He tried again and took a blind strike across the hip. His labored breathing forced him to miss yet another counterattack, and then, he screamed.

Three throwing knives flew from his fingers, slicing the air in front of my chest.

I didn’t bother to dodge.

[Decoy] sprung alive and intercepted the hit. I stepped aside with movements obscured and made a vicious cut across the man’s torso. His health meter depleted with a zing.

The Assassin froze, eyes widening to the size of wall clocks. And then, he fled and abandoned his knife.

I lunged in pursuit. The sensation of my blade sinking into his heart released a burst of endorphins that threatened to overwhelm me. At long last, I had won.

Incredible work, boyo!

You have participated in the killing of Assassin LVL 22. An appropriate amount of XP has been allocated per your contribution.

I collapsed to the ground. Laughter followed the euphoria and sprang from my throat. I’d fought three powerful rankers and emerged from battle as the only survivor. Tears of victory poured down my cheeks.

I wanted to dance . . . to cheer . . . to sing . . . to pump my fist to the adulation of an audience. No one had witnessed the feat I had just accomplished . . . and, maybe that was for the best.

Without health or vigor, I amounted to little other than free XP for any takers. And, the Labyrinth contained a lot of them, rankers and chimeras both.

I looted the Assassin and stripped him of his armor for good measure. His companions appeared as small crosses on my [Map], each begging to be looted. Sadly, I couldn’t afford to do so. Not now, at least.

I limped toward the Traveler’s Room, doing my best to hide my presence. Darkness claimed me the instant I crossed the threshold, bringing with it the sweet bliss of slumber.