Chapter 105
Death in Three Steps
When Connie arrived at the front porch, three men in full armors had been waiting. Their stances were rigid and straight. Other than the man in the front, the others wore helmets. Illumca, with a face full of hostility, barred them from entering while Nick was leaning quietly by the window.
“I am here,” Connie said impassively. “Let’s get on with it.”
“As you wish, Lady Steelheart.”
The Knight then jumped straight to business. His gauntleted hands deftly unfurled a scroll stamped with the official Royal Seal and then bellowed.
“Lady Cornelia Asterium Steelheart, Daughter of Duke Geno Steelheart. You and your accomplices will be tried in front of His Majesty, the King of Calendia, on the Thirteenth day of the month of Heklan. Four days after today.”
After that he rolled the scroll and offered it to Connie.
Connie shrugged as she nodded at her wounded arms. The man shifted awkwardly at this. “As you can see, I am very much ill equipped to do any sort of receiving at the moment.”
“The Knights are really going downhill with their manners,” Nick commented sharply.
“Illumca, receive it for me,” Connie said, ignoring the sharp look the Knights gave them.
“We will excuse ourselves then,” the frontmost Knight said with a bit of grumble. He knew a bit of what the people in front of them had done and had mixed feeling about them. Some part was anger, and some was…awe. The one to the left of the man who read the Royal Decree was a loyalist of the Crown Prince and therefore was not happy with her.
“Halt!” Suddenly they heard the guards standing in front of the house warned. They were barring the path of a man in a very slick uniform with a slick mustache.
“This area is forbidden for civilians.”
“Yes, quite right. But I am here under the order of someone far above your rank,” the man said as she opened a part of his black coat. Upon seeing something that glinted gold inside, the guards quickly responded with a tinge of fear. “Y-yessir. Please go through!”
“Excellent. Good day gentlemen,” he said as he stepped smartly inside.
The Knights that were just leaving eyed him warily. “Nice day we are having, eh?” the man greeted them while making way for them.
One of the Knights who was the more knowledgeable of the three whispered to his leader. Upon which the three quickly left without looking back.
“Ah, Lady Cornelia Asterium Steelheart,” the man flung a critical gaze at the girl bound in a wheelchair and found that despite her condition, her posture held no weakness. He whistled inwardly, amused by this.
“For my sins, my name is Jorge. A loyal servant of my Master, whose name I could not say. For safety purposes.”
“Is that so? What does your Master want with us criminals?”
“He wants to treat you all to a meal,” the man said cheerfully. “Indeed! A fine meal of all the finest delicacies we have to offer.”
“Huh?” Martell could not help but frown. “A meal?”
“It is easier to show rather than tell. It just so happens that I arrived just in time for lunch. Come, Milady! I hope you are hungry. Such treats we have for all of you today.”
The man then took Connie’s wheelchair and pushed it towards the dining room. Everyone else followed behind them.
When they stepped into the dining room, they saw Hilde and her unsavory maid friend were wordlessly complaining as their unpalatable soups and bread were cleared off the table and into the garbage bin.
Trolleys of fine delicacies including whole roast pig and poultries then appeared from the other side of the room. Followed by trays of rare fruits and bottles of fine wine.
“We still have a few more courses coming in. As this is not a formal meal, I find that it is more fun to be able to see what is coming,” the man said with a smile. “Have a seat please, all of you.”
Connie noticed that despite the man coming in from the front, all the other servants came in from the back door. The man was quite the cautious one indeed.
The question, however, was, who was this Master of his?
“This is quite the spread. And some of the fruits are out of season. I wonder who would be influential enough to be able to procure them?”
“Well, I am not privy to the mind of my Master,” the manservant answered politely. “But he seemed to be quite taken with what you did.”
Illumca and the others stood still, eyeing Connie. Waiting for her decision.
“Well, who are we to deny a good meal, eh?” Connie smiled and gestured for them to take their seats. “Let us partake then. Call for Akula, I am sure after so much plain bread she would be happy eating something of substance.”
Jorge gave them a wide, cheery smile. “Good choice, Milady. Good choice.”
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The slum in midday was a hellish place to be. The smell of unwashed men and the waste that had built up over the years suffused the ground and made it a permanent fixture of the slums, just like its many small, unregistered houses. Fortunately for a certain man, it was not a summer day, otherwise he would have gagged the moment he stepped into that place.
This particular man was dressed in a brown cloak. He walked with hurried steps, his eyes darting left and right. No one cared about this man despite this suspicious action. Because in that place, it was common for unsavory things to happen.
The man turned into an alley then knocked a few times at a washed-out door.
A voice from behind the door said. “The Cuckoo has no beak.”
“The tree has no eye.”
After hearing the nonsensical reply, there was a sound of a latch being opened, and the door opened with just enough gap for the man to squeeze through.
Inside the room, there was a table with a bowl of grapes. And sitting behind that table was a chubby woman who looked like a typical housewife. Someone you would never notice in a crowd. The other was a big, unsavory looking man with a burn scar on his bald head.
The cloaked man heard the door closed behind him. Then the man who opened the door came and sit by the table, arms folded over the backrest. This one had the lower half of his face covered with a mask and dressed in dusty gray. But judging by his face, he should be middle-aged.
“Are you the one who put up the quest?” the chubby woman asked.
“Y-yes,” the cloaked man opened the hood to reveal Gianni Verocco, the Special Envoy of Vorzenny. “I am Mr. Verocco. I’m the one who wants to employ your Skills.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Have a seat.”
“A-Rank, eh? Din’t get tha’s often dese days,” the burly man said.
“Of course. A-Ranks Assassinations are usually either very hard, very long, or very high profile,” the chubby woman said. “And in this case…”
“Very high profile,” the shadowy figure picked on a piece of grape and popped it under his mask.
“Before that…I want to know if you have the Skills to do this,” Gianni said.
“Oi, ya doubtin’ us?!” the bald man stabbed the knife that he had been sharpening into the table, it sunk in a few inches, causing Gianni to flinch.
“Now, now,” the chubby woman raised her hand and nodded her head in understanding. “You may not know us - as you are an outsider - but in our business, we are known as ‘Death in Three Steps’. We specialize in political assassinations. High Profile Assassinations, as it were.”
“I am proficient in using poison. The gentleman with the mask is proficient in assassination up close. And my friend beside me here is a deft hand at kidnapping and body disposal. We pride ourselves as a holistic solution for all the client’s need,” the woman gave her introduction with an eerie smile that unnerved Gianni. Thus far in the conversation, they have not revealed their names. Their kind of targets was often backed by people of influence and might retaliate. Thus they never gave out their names.
“W-what’s holeesh-tic?” the bald-headed man asked.
“It means what we do as a group is better than what we do apart. It’s a word from one of the past Heroes’ quotes. I told you to read your books,” the woman explained this as if speaking to a child. “Does this answer your question?”
“…y-yes,” Gianni answered, deciding quickly that he wanted this out of the way as quickly as possible. “Fine,” he exhaled nervously. He was not fond of the dark side of his job, but he knew that sometimes it could not be helped. “I want this done as soon as possible.”
“How soon?”
“Today.”
“Impossible,” the man garbed in gray interjected. “We need to canvass the target environment and draw up a plan. It will take four days at the fastest.”
“Too long, I want them dead and gone before then. Two days.”
“…” the chubby woman tapped her fingers on the table with a thoughtful expression. “It’s fine as long as she’s dead before the trial, correct? We can only do the kill fast and messy in two. But you want it clean, right? So, three days is the most we can do. Otherwise…the door is to your back.”
Gianni grimaced. The woman bargained her way like a housewife would bargain meat in a common market. But she is correct. The problem is not just when they die, but also how.
After a few minutes, he finally gave his answer. “Alright. Three days. I want it clean. Make it seem like they ran away during the night.”
“Negotiation completed,” the chubby assassin smiled. “Good. Would you like some grapes? My husband bought too much.”
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The days passed by peacefully after that. Since the day Jorge came and introduced himself, the man came by for lunch and dinner, bringing with him all manners of rare and luxurious food. Not one thing was the same each time.
Tonight, was the last night that they could dine, and Jorge had brought with him a luxurious feast heavy with fat and cream. Clear, filtered consommé that that tasted richly of game. To be followed by white fish with cream sauce, then a plate of game sausage basted in pig fat and smothered with velvety, red wine-based butter sauce. And to finish, a poached pear doused in sugared rosewater and sweet cream.
As the Dining Room was not big, Jorge personally served them while the other servants prepared for the next course.
“It’s only the soup course and you are already half-drunk,” Martell said with a shake of his head. He had an acceptable table manner from the way he held his spoon. But below, his legs swung to and fro innocently.
“Come off it, boy. Look, the Centaur is also doing the same. She drank a whole bottle just now!”
“Khikhikhi!” Akula guffawed as she poured herself a glass of wine. “This red wine is good, but it's not as strong as the one I’m used to. If you ever come to the Plains, I’ll introduce you to real alcohol! It’ll put hair on your chest!”
“Oh? I’ll be waiting for that!” Nick said. “You know, I thought you’re one of them, stuck up warrior type. But you, you’ll fit in right with my buddies in the military.”
“Well, someone scolded me a bit a few days ago,” Akula said. “It gave me a bit of a new perspective. About what I want to do.”
“And have you found out what you want to do?” Connie asked, after swallowing a spoonful of soup Illumca fed her.
“Not yet,” the Centaur said. “It’s…been a dream of mine for so many years. It’s not as simple as changing the stirrup on a horse. And I don’t think it’ll be worth anything if I’m not alive after tomorrow.”
“…you could have blamed me,” Illumca said apologetically, “You could have said that I forced you to do it.”
“How many times do I have to say it to you?” the Centaur smiled through her veil. “I did it out of my own will.”
“Hnggh…It’s tomorrow, finally,” Nick said, as he downed another glass of fine wine that would have cost a year’s income for a normal commoner. “Tomorrow we are going to be put on trial and then hung! Or quartered? I don’t know what’s the current trend right now. Decapitation was famous during the era of the last king.”
He then gave an unbridled laugh, “We killed the Hero though! That’s a feat I can brag about to my army friends in Sud-Ghazid!” the man laughed. “Picture that! Nick the Paladin! Slayer of Heroes!”
“You’re not the one who killed the Hero, Nick,” the Beastfolk boy said, spooning the hot soup slowly, blowing each spoonful twice before putting it into his small mouth. “Connie did, and then Illumca finished the job. I just had the one kill.”
“I mean, it’s a group effort, right?” Nick grumbled.
The Beastfolk boy snorted at the man’s overinflated view of himself.
“You know what? I’m fine with death. But I still have a lot of things I need to do,” he looked pointedly at Connie.
Connie noticed his look and smirked. “Well, it’s not going to be a walk in the park for sure. But we won’t know the result until the trial is over.”
While Jorge was putting away the soup plates, Connie noticed something on her first disciple’s eyes. “Illumca, have you been putting off sleep?”
“H-how did you know?”
“You’ve been sluggish these days. And even with all these foods we have been served, you do not eat much, even less than usual.”
“I – I’ve been training as you told me to.”
“Haah, I know that I’m not one to say, but resting is also something one needs, especially at your level. Overworking will just lessen the result.”
“I know, I know. It’s just…even as I grow stronger, our enemies grow stronger too. And then I saw how unfair the world was,” she said with eyes gazing off into nothing. “I was helpless before that man. I am nothing more than a fly in front of him.”
“Sergio…” Akula could surmise it from how she talked about him. “You shouldn’t put yourself against him, that man is someone beyond our means.”
“It’s just…frustrating…”
A heavy atmosphere fell onto the dining room. Only the sound of plates of fish being served could be heard. Jorge felt the atmosphere when he entered the room and said nothing. It is a skill he had to learn when he was a young footman. To be as invisible as he could be. It was so good that he could walk through a throng of people without being noticed. He disappeared to the back room as soon as he was finished to prepare the next course.
“…do you know how many times I have lost?” Connie exclaimed as she looked around for answer.
“I have lost more times than the number of days I have drawn breaths. It is not winning that taught you lessons. It is losing. Losing and surviving,” she said after a brief pause. “Without fighting someone stronger, you will not find what you lack.”
“Even after losing so badly against that man?” Martell asked carefully.
Connie smirked. “Especially after losing against him.”
Then, as if to punctuate her words, there was a loud clunk. Their eyes turned towards the source and they saw Nick fell over his fish.
“Ughh…” Martell too wobbled on his chair. His face turning pale and his tongue began to swell.
Seeing this, the three was surprised. It was Connie who first recovered. “You two, bring them to me!! Now!!” she ordered.
Quickly the two complied and brought them to her. She then struggled to put her hands on their back and circulated her Energy through their system. Unpleasant smelling blood came out of their noses. Then they coughed and threw up on the floor.
“Martell, are you okay?” Akula asked.
“I’m fine, (cough). I’m fine…”
“It’s poison…”
“How dare they use poison on us!” the Centaur was enraged. Her tribe was one who prized a straightforward, honorable battle. To use poison discreetly was a coward’s work.
Illumca saw the things that they threw up and then saw the half-eaten pieces of fish on their plates. “Connie.”
She followed her gaze and nodded. “Bring it to me.”
She did so and brought Martell’s plate to her. She then took a sniff of the dish and asked her to put it into her mouth. Connie chewed it a few times and then swallowed.
“Hmm, very nice fish. Perfectly seasoned, and with a slight hint of herbs…and poison. Clever. Clever indeed. Hiding the fishy smell of this particular type of poison inside a fish dish. And quite the strong one too. If I am not here, the two of them would have died in minutes from swollen tongue and throat,” she then turned to Martell, who was still affected by the poison. “Martell, are there people we don’t recognize around here?”
Martell sneezed out the rest of the blood from his nose and started to use his Skill. “I recognize the smell of Jorge and the servants in the back room, they are not moving. Hilde and the other maid are upstairs, along with one other I don’t recognize. I cannot smell too well right now, sorry.”
Connie smirked lightly. “Heheheh…I am wheelchair-bound, with broken arms, and unable to go to the bathroom without assistance,” Connie paused and shrugged. “Our weapons were confiscated, meaning that we are quite literally, unarmed and unarmored. Yao-Er is still recovering from overusing the silk. Even Chen cannot come out at the moment, he is busy refining what he ate in the forest.”
“And now, we are assassination targets,” she then turned to the Dark Elf, a bright smile adorning her face. “Illumca, are you up to the challenge?”
The Dark Elf picked up a half-empty wine bottle from the table. Upended the contents of the bottle into her throat and then smashed it against the wall. She then hefted the makeshift weapon and stepped out of the door, eyes glinting dangerously. Despite her aloof exterior, it was quite apparent that she was very eager to send some people to Sud-Ghazid.
Before she melted into the shadows, she looked at them and said, voice dangerously low. “…Challenge accepted.”