Francesca jumped onto the canvas of a stand and then onto a roof. From there she would have a better view.
The Princess moved easily between walls and empty streets littered with corpses. There was no one left outside the great palaces. They were all busy fighting. Orma seemed to have suddenly turned into a ghost town.
Francesca was running so fast that she seemed to be teleporting from roof to roof. True, she was a long way from reaching the level of monsters like Snowflake and Lumia, but she was certainly the most agile of her group, probably even more agile than Circe.
Her figure trembled every time he touched a surface with his feet, delaying the next step by a few fractions of a second. She then strained her muscles, contracting them against their will, to resume running faster than before.
She had never been a sparkling talent within the walls of Orma, let alone on the continent. After meeting Pseudonym, even Circe had put her arrogance aside and began to consider the possibility that there were many people stronger than herself. Francesca could only resign herself to a destiny of inferiority and try to raise her level more and more. If one day she managed to become as strong as one of Orma's two monsters, then she might perhaps have won the much-desired freedom.
But, if in training the Princess's attacks were always decisive and ferocious, now the ground seemed to be her enemy, slowing her down from time to time, in an invisible struggle within her heart.
Francesca had always lived in a quiet city, a place of peace and prosperity, where the life of the inhabitants was placid, protected from any risk of wars and clashes. But now, due to the coalition of Trolls and Undead, the war had taken Orma by force and wreaked havoc from within. Death had come closer to every single citizen than it ever had. Many brave warriors had died in an instant, pulverized in front of their companions.
The end of Frankenstein and Lulu had been devastating; Francesca remembered the expression that had imprinted on Snowflake's face and felt the tears blur her vision. What would she do if any of her comrades were killed?
Would she, who didn't even have the strength to stand by Circe's side, give vent to all her desperation by fighting? And would she be able to avenge them, as Snowflake had done?
She pushed back the tears forcefully and exhaled the stale air that had filled her lungs.
She paused, made up her mind to look at the Mirror of Desire again, and saw that several colored spots were forming on its surface, heading at high speed towards her. Among these there was also that of convenience.
Sighing, the Goblin uttered a series of incomprehensible words, which activated a spell. The mirror shattered into a thousand pieces.
Watching one of Orma's greatest treasures pulverize, Francesca felt nothing. She remained standing, glad that it would not end up in the hands of her enemies.
Suddenly, a chill sensation gripped her throat and her body was locked in a pressing grip.
A pungent voice came to her ear and whispered: "Dead!"
Francesca realized that the cold she had felt was due to a blade pressed on her trachea.
The black shadow that had pinned her burst out laughing.
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A shiver ran down her spine as she tried to stay still. If it had moved even half a millimeter forward, the blade would have easily pierced her trachea.
Small drops of blood fell to the ground rhythmically and
a group of men approached her. Among them was Comodo, who took a few steps forward and stopped in front of Francesca.
The Princess of Orma hardly recognized him. In more than a year of absence, Comodo had definitely changed, but his eyes still shone that light of madness that had always belonged to him.
Francesca's large amber eyes seemed to beg, even before her words, at least an opportunity to be heard. "Comodo, please let me speak," her voice was small but firm.
Damn! Comodo cursed to himself. He didn't like that Francesca was in the Assassin's hands. Not that he cared about her, but Francesca was his key to the throne of Orma.
"Let her go," Comodo said in a neutral tone to the man in black, of whom only half his torso was visible, while the rest of his body was immersed in a misty and indefinite darkness. He took a couple of steps towards him, to put pressure on him, limping imperceptibly.
His body was now heavily damaged and, if he hadn't reached Immortality within a couple of years, his flesh would probably have rotten, killing him.
Hearing Comodo's words and the strength behind them, his disfigured face seemed less repulsive to Francesca. At least he didn't seem willing to threaten the life of the Pricess for fun. Comodo, despite everything, had some real Goblin blood in his veins.
Francesca felt lighter. The possibility, the hope of being able to deal with Comodo had ignited a spark in her body.
Not all was lost.
"The Boss sent me here to make sure you didn't fuck stuff up", the Assassin began to dig in his left ear with the dagger he held in his free hand, pulling out an incredible amount of earwax. After cleaning it nonchalantly on Francesca's hood, he looked up at the Goblin.
Beside him were eight other warriors, for a total of ten, including the two of them. They were all men selected by Hades for the mission, but none of them had orders to kill Helial.
None of them made was higher than the Seventh Phase, because Hades had strongly advised the Assassin not to overdo it. "It would risk provoking people I absolutely cannot upset," he said.
Bah. Who knows what the fuck that meant every time.
It was still unclear to the Assassin why Hades couldn't just go straight to kill Helial. But who really had the courage to contest the orders of that monster?
I certainly not, the Assassin thought to himself, shaking his head.
Absently, the Assassin slid the blade down the Goblin's throat. Francesca's blood hit Comodo's face, covering it completely.
The blade was so sharp that, with a single blow, the Princess's head was completely detached from her body under Comodo's wide eyes and his open mouth.
"Oops," laughed the Assassin, shrugging. "I guess I let her go." Then he pointed the blade at the Goblin. "Do you have something to say or other orders to give?"
Before Comodo could even respond, the Assassin kicked Francesca in the head, filling it with Mana. Francesca's head rose in mid-air and exploded like a firework. The rest of her body received the same treatment, to prevent anyone from bringing her back to life.
Glancing over his shoulder, he sensed the presence of three other people. "Wait here a moment," said the Assassin. He disappeared and left Comodo on his knees, speechless.
Comodo ignored the warning signs his body was sending him, felt something cloud his mind and take control. He watched the splash of blood and the stains left just before, as he slowly brought his hands to his face, feeling the scars now covered with blood.
He crawled forward, while the sound of blades and screams that came from a short distance away seemed muffled to his ears, until he felt the dust mixed with blood. That kind of gooey dark red paste immediately stuck to his fingers.
He brought the phalanges in front of his eyes, observing them from different angles. And then...
"Ahaha ..."
"AhaAhaHAhaA!"
"AHaAHhaaahAHahaha!"
The Assassin came back, wiping his hands and saying, "Three Goblins were chasing the girl, but I got rid of them pretty easily- Um?" Comodo laughed like a madman,
as he rubbed the blood on his face and planted his nails in his own flesh, stripping away part of the cheeks and the back of his neck.
"I leave him for a moment and he behaves like that?" The Assassin shrugged.
After carrying out the mission, he would kill the Goblin as well. Hades had told him he could kill anyone except his brother. And the Assassin had shown his willingness to take it literally; on the other hand, since he arrived in Orma, he had made a conspicuous slaughter of Goblins and was quite proud of it.
Standing up, Comodo swayed as if drunk towards the assassin, while white lights flashed in his eyes.