With the yard full of corpses now, Mila had to move fast before she got discovered. After pulling the latest bodies outside the clear view, she made sure the guards at the gates were just as oblivious as when it all started.

Then, Mila ran towards the main building while Mr Crow flew above her head. Now that nothing was threatening her on the premises, the bird dutifully started to look out for any danger coming from outside.

Mila could feel the dissatisfied and impatient gaze of Mr Crow burning the back of her head. He wanted her to hurry up, which she tried to do. As she reached the carved walls and hid beneath a depiction of a cat-like monstrosity, Mila scanned the inside for any threats.

With how close Mila was now, she finally could have a clearer picture of what she would have to face inside. The worst-case scenario didn’t come to be.

There were a couple of notable mana signatures, not on Naran’s level, but close. Whoever they might be, if Mila was careless, it could get troublesome. There was also a third, even weaker response.

And all of them concentrated in one spot, likely in the same room. Mila looked at the front gate once more before sneaking towards the building's entrance. There, she hid behind a shrubbery and calmed her mind and breath.

While the time was tight, Mila centred herself and cleared her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment and waited.

Soon, Mila heard footsteps approach from the gate. She opened her eyes and studied the hurrying man. He was another messenger, most likely. Mr Crow had not tried to alert her of anything else.

With the man arriving at the doors, Mila found her chance to move behind him as he knocked.

“Dran, it’s me, Hal. I have news from Helly people.” The man spoke while glancing behind but somehow completely missing Mila, who was sidestepping to remain in his peripheral vision. Seeing nothing, he turned back to the doors and knocked again. “Dran!”

Finally, the doors opened, revealing an annoyed-looking bald guy. “What news?”

“Helly wants to…” Hal began but stopped. “That’s for Boss’s ears.” He frowned. “You are just a door guard.”

“A door guard who can kick your ass,” Dran grumbled. “This shit is ruining my beauty sleep.” He complained.

“Yours and mine.” Hal agreed. “Fucking Helly. That harpy has been such a pain.”

“Tell me about it.” Dran opened the doors wide and moved to let Hal in. “Boss is still grilling the previous guy who came with news. Something about Naran’s people moving.”

Hal grimly nodded and stepped inside. “I heard. With Helly at our throat and Naran sniffing our boots, it will be a tough night.”

“Don’t be a smart ass and move.” Dran scowled. “Like you understand how the city works. The boss already got help. It should arrive by the morning. There is nothing to fear.”

“From the house of Basalt?” Hal guessed.

Dran slapped the back of Hal’s head. “Don’t say shit like that aloud.” He reprimanded.

It was all very interesting. Mila stifled a yawn and rammed her dagger through Dran’s throat, pushing the tip inside the man’s brain, killing him instantly.

“Well, sorry!” Hal apologised. “I am just nervous. Wait, what was th-”

Before Hal could turn around, Mila was on his back. Her free arm yanked Hal’s head back and slit his throat.

Only now did Mila study her surroundings. She had used the chance to kill these two because the front hall had been empty otherwise. She heard angry voices deeper inside the building.

There was no one rushing to see what had happened. Mila waited for a moment longer, but there was still no one. With no immediate danger, her attention wandered.

Mila was surprised to find the place nicely decorated. There was a small table and coat hanger on one side, a chair for Dran and a sizable cabinet with books on it on the other. Subdued tapestry with various geometrical shapes covered the walls. Wall-mounted candelabras illuminated the homely place and invited Mila further with the flickering light of candles.

After carefully closing the doors, Mila advanced. Another corridor crossed the one she was on, with stairs to the second floor at both ends. She checked each door as she passed. Most of the rooms were empty and of no interest to her.

At the end of the corridor, Mila did find a room meant for servants, with a single old man meaning it, waiting for any orders. After knocking him out, the first floor was clear. She returned to where corridors crossed each other.

After listening for a moment, Mila moved to the left. She carefully poked her head on the second floor and saw a guard standing in front of the double-sided doors. The thuggish, large man watched the night sky through the nearby window with empty eyes.

Behind the man, through the doors, Mila could hear a heated ongoing discussion. It was laughably easy for her to reach the standing guard. He didn’t glance to the sides even once. With a dagger piercing his throat - Mila’s favourite spot for sending someone to hell, the easy part was over.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

With a push, the dead guard got deposited against the wall, from which he slowly found his way to the floor. Mila twirled the dagger in her hands and pondered on how to proceed.

After all, Mila had promised herself to make Brandy suffer.

—

Anthony was pretending to cover and tremble behind Brandy. Every time the detestable man yelled at the two messengers standing before him, Anthony felt the camaraderie with them grow.

After all, Anthony had gone through the same so many times. The Military didn’t take failure in kind, especially when so much was riding on their continued success.

And to be fair, thus far, the Military of Imeglenmo had done very well, at least against Tordgo. He felt proud of his country but knew well this was just the start.

A few days ago, news arrived that The Ohilpy Empire had started to prod their borders up north. This information was on need to know basis. His position as a senior spy allowed him to learn of this as it allowed him to make more educated decisions on how to proceed.

They didn’t have much time. Imeglenmo had to push Tordgo on its knees before Ohilpry’s war machine started to move to its fullest.

Unfortunately, Anthony was stuck trying to infiltrate the criminal side of Stilag. Furthermore, he had to pretend to be a paper pusher. It was a tedious and inactive job. It did allow them to learn much about how the goods got moved in Tordgo, the illegal kind, anyway.

So Anthony did it. At least he wasn’t in any danger here. Or, at last, not the same danger as some of his comrades who had to take more proactive roles, which, to be fair, were a lot more interesting.

But currently, Brandy’s band of misfits were in trouble. Anthony couldn’t care less if they perished. He had garnered enough reputation as a capable accountant to find a new place if this place didn’t work out.

The moustachioed molester had died, much to Anthony’s pleasure, and left a sizable dent in Brandy’s forces. Yet, Brandy still had Polliena - a powerfully built woman who had kept the moustache in check. She was currently standing behind the messengers, making them sweat. One word from Brandy, and they would be a head shorter.

Brandy himself was sitting at the large wooden desk, covered in important-looking papers. Anthony knew it was only for show. The man had once been a decent fighter, but years of pushing around underlings and licking noble boots had left him out of shape.

Not too much. Brandy still kept training, even if those occasions were rare and just enough for him not to get fat. The man was rusty, and the years started to show, but he was handsome and could woo a woman of stature.

That is to say, Brandy was fucking Robvo Basalts' wife. The noble was none the wiser, happy with Brandy selling him one-night ‘adventures’ with various young girls. It did give Brandy enough security to be bold and brash. And it had come back to bite Brandy’s ass.

“Do you hear me!” Brandy slammed the table, finishing his tirade.

Anthony suitably flinched along the messengers from the show of anger. He glanced at Polliena, who was frowning while studying the doors. He idly compared himself to the beast of a woman and, for the hundredth time, wondered who would come on top if they fought.

With Anthony’s skill set, he wasn’t confident in confrontation. Maybe if he got a jump from the back? If Polliena gave him time to cast, then maybe? She was very fast, though.

“What’s wrong, Dear?” After yelling, Brandy calmed down and noticed Polliena’s thoughtful expression.

“Something’s not right.” Polliena's deep voice rattled everyone's bones.

Now that Polliena voiced it, Anthony sharpened his senses as well. He had to agree. Something didn’t seem right.

Then, there was a knock on the doors.

“What?” Brandy yelled while Polliena looked at the doors with doubt. She cracked her neck and equipped brass knuckles, tailor-made for her.

Anthony played his role and backed from the showing of bloodthirst. He tried to figure out what unsettled him. It wasn’t smell or noise. What was it?

“What is it?” Brandy repeated.

“Excuse me.” One side of the doors opened, revealing a small stature - a young woman, most likely. “I considered doing it with more care, but my schedule is rather tight for the night.” She conversed. The voice was young and cold.

“Who are you?” Brandy calmly asked, confident in Polliena’s ability to keep him safe.

Anthony disagreed. His instincts screamed danger. And… He frowned while studying the bloodied mess that was the cloak. There was a mask covering the woman’s face, but the eyes… Wasn’t there a report about a girl with bright green eyes?

What did that message say? Anthony thought back, and as he did, his fear grew larger. The message had been from the group in Ocheon. The timeline matched. The description did as well. He couldn’t be sure, but…

Subject name - Mila. An assassin. Played a role in raiding Ocheon’s temple. Played a role in the death of Inquisitor ‘Sleeper’. Details unknown. Possible ally. Do not engage. Do not provoke. There was more. Speculation of her goals and description of her character.

The message had been short, sweet and to the point. It wasn’t something Anthony had to worry about. And now, this dangerous person was here. He didn’t even have to pretend to be nervous. At least she didn’t know about him. He was just an accountant here. She wouldn’t see him as dangerous. From what he recalled, she didn’t engage in senseless slaughter.

“It is not important who I am, is it?” The girl entered the room. She played with a dagger in her hand while the other held a throwing knife.

Polliena blocked her way. “Answer the question, girl.” She raised her fists.

“What’s wrong, Dear?” Brandy found Polliena’s actions puzzling. He had truly lost his edge. Probably from all that fucking around. “No need for you to fight. Let these bums deal with her. You always make it messy.” He waved the two unfortunate messengers to engage the girl.

It was a mistake in Anthony’s mind. Brandy was just throwing away lives. He considered his options while glancing at the nearby window. He could pretend to stumble towards it. The girl wouldn’t see him as a danger and would likely allow it.

“Truly kind of you to consider my time constraints.” The girl spoke as the two messengers charged her. “I will make it quick for everyone except for you, Mr Brandy.”

It was too fast. Anthony could barely follow the movements of the girl, and he suspected she could move faster. No one should be this good at slashing throats. More blood splashed on the little reaper.

Cold sweat poured down Anthony’s back. He crept a little closer to the window. As long as he appeared harmless, he had a chance to get away.

“What?” Brandy exclaimed in surprise while Polliena lowered her stance, her expression grim.

“Hmm,” The girl hummed. “So it leaves the three strongest people on the premises.”

Anthony’s body froze involuntarily. She knew. He had to change his approach.