"Assassination."
"I can't count the times our lord has had to deal with such attempts on his life."
"They have become so regular to the point that it has become a regular part of our lives."
"You would have thought the mountain of corpses left from past failed assassination attempts would have at least made people hesitant to take action."
"But when the reward is millions and gold and even a landed noble title…."
"Well then, even a mountain of corpses won't stop people attempting to cash in such a payday."
Jordis Mantalon, successor to the Grandmaster of Loyalty and 4th wing of Athurus.
….
Darkath Venselor left the Tavern, enraged, his clenched fists shaking at his side as his gaggle of lickspittles followed him silently, none of them daring to make even a sound that might turn that anger towards them.
None of them had a death wish after all, and Darkath was not known for his mercy and benevolence.
It is uncanny in some ways that people always look down on those who seek favour in such an underhanded fashion, complimenting the powerful to ingratiate themselves with them, and maybe just maybe they would ingratiate themselves enough to gain something from these powerful figures.
However, for someone to become successful through such means requires intelligence and shamelessness, which few possess.
As such, these people had excellent survival instincts, knowing when to speak up, flattering their patron and when to keep quiet.
And this was a time when it was best to keep quiet and allow the young master to continue to brood and work off his anger; otherwise, calamity may follow.
Apart from the sorority of male sycophants, there were also a few guards and a hidden master following Darkath to protect him from anyone who would seek to do him harm, a common thing for children of powerful nobles to receive because while every noble preaches about honour in the murky world of politics such strict adherence to honour gets you killed more often than not by schemes spawned in the shadows of the opulence of a noble, royal or imperial court.
And because these nobles are not fools, they always make sure their families are adequately protected so they cannot be used as bargaining chips against them.
Darkath was angry at his helplessness.
His lack of power, which he could usually derive from his wealth and status, was useless when faced with Lady Cirdyl Erberos.
All his family's wealth, power and influence were nothing more than dust in the wind in front of her.
That was how terrifying House Erberos was within the Kingdom of Pelthas.
He couldn't even put that arrogant, low-born, young, dwarf mutt in his place thanks to her presence.
Because no matter how noble his mannerisms seemed, there was no way that man could be a noble despite the seemingly high level of education he possessed.
After all the Gods favoured existed low-borns who, through the intervention of the gods, seemed to have an education level that matched or even surpassed that of the nobility.
Many were secretly scared of this fact, but no one dared speak it out loud, and using these intelligent people as pawns was far easier than using other nobles or those with connections to them.
So that half dwarf 'acting mercenary captain' must be just that.
A gods favoured, whose intelligence has somehow managed to impress the current captain enough for him to consider him as his successor.
Because even martially inclined nobles rarely travel as mercenaries when they want to act low-key, instead, they go around as wandering knights as a rich young master, not a young mercenary.
But none of that mattered because Lady Cirdyl could not be by that infuriating man forever, and when she finally decides to retire for the night, it will be the time when he will strike.
He will show her and any other lowborn the price of offending their betters.
But he would not plan this out in the middle of the street.
No, he would go home first before sending someone to deal with that young wannabe mercenary captain.
After all they were nothing more than filthy money grubbing mercenaries after all so by the time his man strikes they will all likely be drunk and wake up only to find the young half dwarf with a slit throat.
Because how disciplined could mercenaries be anyway?
They would all likely be drunk!
Entering his family's mansion, he quickly retreated to the privacy of his room, sending his sycophants away, as it would not do for one of those foolish idiots to reveal his plan or blab about it to the wrong people.
Because while his status and family's connections would likely allow him to come out of the situation relatively unharmed, it would not be good to be caught plotting the murder of someone.
Plots are fine.
But only if they remain hidden and their true mastermind stays forever cloaked in darkness.
"Get me Lothir!"
He called out to his butler, an evil grin spreading on his face, that arrogant half dwarf bastard would regret offending him!
….
To say that Aldorus Balerion, the first commander of the Pelican Guards, was unhappy would be the understatement of the century.
His lord had once again pissed off an influential person.
And this time it was a powerful landed noble!
It was almost becoming something that he expected to happen once a year or so.
Nearly 2 years ago, it was the Hosted Families company that went after them, sending an expert assassin and a group of sellswords to wipe them out.
Nearly a year ago, it was the nobles behind that company contacting a pirate fleet with two master fighters in it to wipe them out. They even got lucky as one of the two ships that fell to their ballistas happened to be captained by one of these master fighters, allowing House Aurellion to lower their losses in that battle massively.
Though at least in this, Aldorus would admit it is a problem that would have arisen no matter what they did, as House Aurellion's running such a successful merchant group meant taking business from others, offending the powerful people profiting from them behind the scenes.
And these people would not just sit around and wait for that to happen.
Especially if those people are nobles who are accustomed to scheming against others for their own gain.
And this year, it seemed the enemy they made was an arrogant elven noble.
But not just any eleven noble one with power and influence to make even him hesitate.
Why was it that no matter what happened, even when his lord was touring around the world, trouble seemed to follow him like moths to a flame?
No matter where he went or what he did, he was almost guaranteed to get into trouble!
Aldorus had heard about Railius' childhood and even experienced how troublesome he could be in his last year before officially coming of age.
Before, it was harmless pranks or escapades that made Leon Mantalon want to tear his hair out.
Small matters which can be easily solved, but the problems that he created once he came of age were much bigger and more troublesome to deal with, though the rewards for this trouble were lucrative.
In only two years, Railius has managed to firmly entrench himself into one of the two most powerful factions within the Kingdom of Nathia. He is responsible for the downfall of five landed noble families, which demonstrates House Aurellion's capability, alongside the death of the remaining house's leader, whose house only managed to escape death because of how careful they were.
He even managed to start creating an international intelligence network that Aldorus expected would eventually encompass the entire world.
Not to mention establishing a trading company and network that will generate millions of gold for House Aurellion in the future, and controlling a military power comparable to that of a count, despite having no official landed title.
Whether it is House Aurellion's political connections, its military power, or its funding in the last two years, its development has been nothing short of terrifying, even if the foundation for these achievements had begun to be laid since House Aurellion's expulsion from the Chavarian Empire just over 10 years ago.
And then there was Baron Malwin.
The man responsible for their current prosperity, and in Aldorus' opinion, a gift from the gods to his lord.
It was due to him that the idea of using the old soldiers of House Aurellion as mercenaries and slowly developing it over the last 10 years proved so successful. It was amazing for a noble house with no land not to go into decline, but instead slowly build up its power again.
Then again, anyone who thinks that House Aurellion is a typical noble house is a fool.
Leon Mantalon, the Grandmaster of Loyalty, was many things…. one of the best vanguard cavalry generals and fighters in the world, but his weakness has always been that his brain is wired more for war than for domestic affairs.
This is where Malwin comes in. With his extraordinary talents in politics and administration, he has managed to build House Aurellion up step by step until it is where it is today.
A hidden power that even kings would hesitate to move against.
Hearing the bell of the tavern ring again from his table and looking at the entering hooded figure, Leon's eyes narrowed as he concentrated on what was the most important thing for him to do tonight.
Protect his talented lord.
….
Ring!
A bell chimed as Lothir entered the tavern/inn, a large establishment that acted as many things a place to eat, drink, socialise and sleep with multiple floors.
A place that has both a good reputation and a powerful enough background that few would consider offending its owner
But none of this mattered to Lothir because this was just another routine operation for him, and if the owner of this tavern could be called a big fish, his backer was a shark.
Lothir is a master fighter—well, actually, he was more of an assassin than a warrior. He is responsible for dealing with House Venselors' political enemies and any man who has garnered their wrath.
Lothir had killed countless men, women and even children in his service to House Venselor, and he had long lost track of them, turning him into a cold-hearted killer who would even kill a child if the order came down.
Of course, he was well compensated for his bloody work that brought nothing but pain, misery and suffering to others.
His current job, though, promised to be easy.
A young mercenary half-dwarf acting captain had annoyed young master Darkath, and so he wanted Lothir to teach him a lesson.
Which is a roundabout way of saying kill him as many people as die every day anyway, so what is one more to add to that pile?
It was just unfortunate for this young man that he garnered the wrath of his young master, because if he had not and had just given up his seat, then he may have made it through the night.
But he didn't, so here they were.
Approaching the middle-aged barkeep, Lothir quickly dismissed these errant thoughts.
"What do you want?"
The barkeep asked suspiciously of the hooded man.
"Is there a man named Delron staying here, young, brash, arrogant and acting captain of a mercenary group?"
Lothir asked nonchalantly as if he were an old friend.
"You a friend of his?"
The jovial elven barkeep asked, his eyebrows narrowing at the suspicious man.
"Of a sort, I have some urgent business with him and am in a bit of a rush to find him…."
Lothir asked as five gold coins were dropped on the counter, clanking against the wood of the bar.
Lothir would have usually used a token of House Venselor to get this information, but his young master had explicitly said that nothing could be left to connect what was about to happen to them, as this half dwarf seemed to have caught the eye of a particularly annoying party.
One who could actually use it to build a case against him and his house.
Lady Ciradyl Erberos
A person, no man, not even a prince, would dare touch or offend, which by extension meant that this halo of protection also extended to those she cared about.
Of course, only to a certain extent, but it was enough to protect them from most people.
It was just unfortunate that House Venselor was not 'most people.'
"Well, would you look at that, sir? It seems that you have missed 5 gold from a customer's last payment."
Lothir asked with a smile, seeing the barkeep's eyes light up with greed when he saw the shiny gold coins.
'Even nobles those mostly prudish prideful cunts change their attitude to most things the moment that gold becomes involved let alone commoners who apart from the larger merchant groups usually only get to barely see it in passing.'
Lothir thought with disdain at the corrupting influence of gold, despite having himself also been corrupted by the precious metal that he now had stuffed in the bag in his manse's vault.
That's right, his manse after all, working with House Venselor and their allies was really quite profitable and allowed him to give his family a life that many could only dream of.
And all it cost was becoming the loyal dog of a noble family, biting, scratching, and killing anyone they told him to.
If you can keep your life, which is not an easy thing to do by any stretch of the imagination, when you kill people for a living.
The barkeep quickly took the gold, stuffing it behind the counter before saying.
"I don't know what room he is in specifically, as they booked the entire third floor for their party a few days ago, paid good coin too for a few nights' stay and breakfast for the lot of them, nearly three times what I usually charge and all of it paid in advance."
"Don't usually get such generosity from people as even merchants who stay here usually pay only for themselves and not their men."
The barkeeper said in a warning tone, but Lothir got the gist of what he was implying.
Captain Delron must have had an extraordinary background or been very wealthy to arrange such expensive and protective measures.
So this is a warning for him.
To not offend someone he cannot afford to offend.
Thanks to his relentless practice, Lothir's face was a mask, a calm façade. Assassins needed to get into some of the most well-guarded places in the world, so their ability to blend in and control their outward emotions was nothing short of masterful.
But inside Lothir was less than happy as now things would be far more complex than he expected as it seemed his target was less stupid than his young master thought and far more aware of the dangers of the world not that being more intelligent than him was a challenge and Lothir thanked the gods that the eldest son of House Venselor was a far more capable man who was not inclined on sending master assassins after people for smallest of slights like his little brother.
Otherwise, he would need to find a new employer very quickly if he wanted to keep his life and run far away from the men that the young master would send to shut him up the moment he decided to abandon them.
But such were the perils of working for the upper classes, who would stop at nothing to keep their castle full of skeletons hidden, as a closet would be far too small to store all the bodies of the people they were responsible for killing.
Hell, he had even been sent to kill a fellow assassin to ensure certain secrets would never see the light of day, as dead men tell no tales, and a body in the ground helps nobles sleep far better than a man who was still breathing and able to sell their secrets to the highest bidder.
Or to escape the noose.
When you know the right people, it turns out that it is extremely easy to get access to someone in prison to silence them. After all, usually the affairs of nobles are interlinked, with one accusation bringing down or affecting more than one person. So, to protect themselves, several nobles would get together to kill someone who managed to get hold of certain embarrassing bits of information.
Take what happened in the kingdom of Nathia recently. Five landed nobles were arrested, having their lands and titles stripped from them. All of them were connected and part of one of the two major political factions in the kingdom, which was preparing for the civil war that was almost guaranteed to happen as soon as the current king of Nathia dies.
All of those nobles were arrested based on information and evidence collected by Sigismund Security Services while they were working as bodyguards for important figures.
If there were even an inclination from any of those involved that any of this information was leaked, then the second prince's faction would have used all its power to remove its source, even to the point of murdering suspects in prison.
Which is well within the means for a member of the Nathian royal family, especially one with a faction behind him powerful enough to compete with his brother for the throne
But what was important for Lothir at the moment was that now he would have to find out somehow which room his target was in.
And kill him.
Sighing, Lothir left the bar.
His job would now be much harder than before.
Because he was dealing with someone whose intelligence appeared to be on a higher level than most.
Or a cautious, suspicious man whose life could be taken from him at a moment's notice.
Maybe he is dealing with both?
But no matter what, this person had now become….
Troublesome.
Very troublesome.
Lothir thought it would be as easy as getting a room number, sneaking in through a window, locked or not, and slitting a throat.
Yet now, even after paying a bribe, the master level assassin did not expect not to even know where his target was.
There was also one more thing.
Something that still made him hesitant and almost caused him to call off this mission altogether. While House Venselor may indulge Darkath and other direct descendants of the current lord, there was a limit to how much trouble they were allowed to cause and who they were allowed to offend.
And master fighters happen to be on that list, as you never know who they may be connected to or who you may unknowingly offend.
Not only does it make his job far harder, but master and grandmaster-level figures are deeply tied to the strength of a noble house, so the death of such a person is bound to cause a conflict or even a feud, which can be very troublesome when dealing with the landed aristocracy, whose many tangled interests can make even the most organised person headache.
Even if a baron's master fighter is killed, trouble can arise. While that baron's power may be limited, his liege's power may be extensive. Now that liege lords have one less master fighter to order around when he calls his banners for war, as if the baron marches to war, his master-level figure will come with him.
A baron may not be able to do much, but a count, duke, or even king has far more ways and power to retaliate against their enemies and those who plot against their vassals.
Of course, the death of a master fighter by a plot and death in war are different. A death in a war may be accepted or even admired by the nobility, but a death by a plot, whether that be by poison or a dagger in the dark, is seen as a threat.
As dishonourable conduct.
This is why the military power a single house can raise and the military power a single house and its vassals can raise need to be differentiated. You can never be sure, especially in a civil war, if all a noble house's banners will answer the call and whether they will muster a large portion of their strength or send a few knights, men at arms, and experts to fulfil their duty unless, of course, their feudal contracts say otherwise.
And a master fighter, an existence that he had to be wary of, happened to be on that exact floor.
Do you know what scares Lothir more?
It is a fact that he almost missed him.
Which is not an easy feat to accomplish by any stretch of the imagination.
Because he is a master assassin, not a master fighter, a small but important distinction that is kept from the ordinary people, even if at times, master and grandmaster fighters occasionally take on the role of assassins and assassins take on the role of master fighters.
These differences include improved stealth, detection, escape, and disguise, as well as many other skills; more importantly, they are more agile.
Able to climb walls silently if given the correct equipment, as no matter what level you are in this world, unless you use magic, there is no way to escape the effects of gravity.
This is a rarer occurrence amongst the nobility, as many of these master assassins are part of large guilds spanning the entire world rather than being loyal to a single noble house.
Of course, there will always be exceptions, which is why people like Lothir exist.
Lothir did one last check of his surroundings. Finding out that there were no more surprises around, he headed towards the stairs, his footsteps so light that it was like a silent grave untouched for centuries.
That was until he got to the third floor of the tavern and found himself suddenly stopped by two mail-clad men, making his eyebrows furrow.
Lothir looked past the two men, who looked aged yet strong, an aura of death surrounded them, indicating years of fighting on blood-soaked battlefields, to see a relatively empty corridor. Only two men guarded a singular door in the centre of the corridor.
It was not much, but all Lothir needed.
"Can we help you, sir?"
One of the guards asked suspiciously, a hand gripping the hilt of his broadsword, while the other seemed to be holding something behind him. After all, they were not expecting any guests, and the corridor to the rooms on the third floor was far enough away from the stairs.
'A dagger.' Lothir mused, noticing their movements and noting that these were not men to mess with easily.
Unfortunately, they were far from his level it would be so easy to slit their throats silently but the two men standing outside the door to that one room.
They were a problem.
And they were watching him as they noticed the rustle of chainmail when the two armoured guardians blocked his path.
5 seconds later, just as the men were about to pounce, he spoke, his face looking surprised and fearful as if he was a commoner who had accidentally met a guard and not an assassin looking to end the life of their charge.
"Sorry, good sirs, is this not the fourth floor?"
Lothir asked, visibly confused, his act so convincing that even the most experienced interrogator would struggle to find fault.
"No, it is the third floor and we have booked it for the night."
The other man said his voice cold and serious, not one of the men relaxed their vigilance in the slightest.
Because, unknown to Lothir, they were Pelican Guards.
And the Pelican Guards are always on the lookout for assassins, especially at night and in the early hours of the morning.
Men who take their duty seriously as the best bodyguards in the world.
The natural enemies to assassins like Lothir, especially assassins dressed in black leather, as if the two Pelican Guards needed any more indication as to the identity of this suspicious man.
"Back up the stairs and up a floor, good sir, then you will have found your destination.
The first guard said, his eyes narrowing as if he was prepared to act.
It was then that it hit Lothir.
They knew, or rather, they predicted an attack on their young acting captain, as it appeared that these men were not so stupid as to think that one could insult a noble like they did and not escape retaliation.
So Lothir now had to make a decision.
And he did.
A dagger appeared in his hand and cut towards the two grizzled guards' necks, his other hand threw another dagger at the guard guarding what Lothir expected to be the acting captain's room.
A room without a window, which is why he had to silence these three men as soon as possible, so that they could not sound the alarm and wake their other comrades who were currently sleeping.
The dagger was fast, looking more like a small flash of light than anything else, as the sharpened steel blade reflected the low light of the corridor.
The two Pelican Guards at the corridors entrance were veterans of dozens of battles and it was only because their guard had been raised since the start of this brief interaction that prevented their throats from being slit by this assassin barely being able to move their heads out of the way of the dagger though one did get a small bleeding scratch on the side of their neck for their trouble.
While the man at the door further down the corridor had far more time to react, trying to move out of the way of the deadly weapon turned projectile, the thrown dagger still pierced through his light mail and into his gut as he cursed inwardly that he was wearing light mail instead of his much sturdier Pelican Guard armour.
Even with two years to get used to the light mail, it still made the veterans uncomfortable while the younger recruits adapted far more easily.
The speed of their assailant shocked the three men for a millisecond as they all thought of the same thing.
A master assassin!
This was an eventuality that they had prepared for, but hoped would not occur. At most, they expected an expert assassin, a man the two guards could put down on their own, not the monster before them.
The two guards at the front of the corridor immdiatly began to back away but Lothir was too fast his weapons seemed to spin in the air like a blur while the two guards finally managed to draw their own weapons and barely block the next lightning fast attack but both knew that they would not be able to last long against this foe.
They would last 5 seconds if they were lucky.
"Assassin!"
One of the two shouted out while behind them, the man who had taken a dagger to the abdomen let out a groan of pain as he removed the dagger, its blade now crimson with sticky blood.
Immediately, movement could be heard from the surrounding rooms, but just as Lothir was about to advance with a combo that would ensure the two guards' deaths, his danger sense violently triggered behind him, as it was only now that he discovered something he had missed.
For the person who triggered this sense of danger, made his back suddenly fill with sweat, and his heart fill with fear.
Lothir jumped back to avoid a horizontal slash that threatened to cut him in half, to face his new dangerous foe, who wore a mocking, nonchalant expression.
"Your danger sense is pretty good, shame your detection skills are still not up to par."
Aldorus said with a slight smile, though his eyes were cold and calculating as he looked down the corridor, analysing every detail of his new battlefield.
'At least they are alive.'
Aldorus thought, looking over his injured men in concern as he continued his attack, wielding a sword in his main hand and a dagger in his off hand, as the weapons of the two master level figures clashed, their movements barely perceptible to the others around them.
The Pelican Guard commander was worried when he dectected that the likily would be assassin was a master fighter not for himself mind you but for his men as they would likily only last seconds if that against such a foe as master assassins excel at killing a few targets in an instant though quckily lose their strength in protracted battles not that they usually find themselves in such a situation mind you.
But as always, his men had not let him down as he made sure to assign veterans to guard duty today, men who had fought against master fighters in the past and may be able to survive, if only barely, against them for a few seconds.
Those few seconds being enough for Aldorus himself to arrive and deal with him.
While Aldorus was calm, Lothir was anything but.
As only Lothir truly understood what it meant for him to be unable to detect someone.
It meant that their skill was higher than Lothir's own.
And worse….
The other master fighter, a man that he had hoped would stay asleep as he quickly and quietly removed the 3 guards in the corridor or at least be taken by surprise had arrived behind him forcing him to be trapped with no where to go as all the door locks suddenly clicked shut in an instant as if all of this was premeditated.
Which it was.
It was a trap designed for little rats who like to scurry around at night, making mischief or taking lives.
Little rats just like Lothir.
Lothir, who had once dominated the small conflict within the corridor, found himself on the back foot in seconds as his aged and rugged opponents fought steadily, with each strike aimed at a killing blow.
Lothir tried everything, bringing out every ounce of his skill, but it was not enough in the tight corridor that restricted his movements.
Not enough against two master-level Pelican Guards, which even a grandmaster would be on guard against.
So, within 10 seconds after the confrontation between the three began, Lothir had already lost one of his daggers, his duel-wielding style that had allowed him to at least survive until now falling apart in an instant.
Seeing this, Aldorus and Cedrick did not hesitate to strike. Two seconds later, Lothir's black leather armour was ripped open by a slash to his abdomen, a blow dealt to him by Aldorus' skilful swordplay.
Two milliseconds later, taking advantage of the momentary pause in Lothir's movements, Cedrick struck his sword, cutting Lothir's back diagonally from shoulder to waist, both men's blades now strained with Lothir's blood.
One second later slowed by his wounds Lothirs throat was slit by Aldorus as he fell to his knees chocking on his own blood as so many of his victims had before him his eyes surprised and desperate as if the assassin never imagined that one day he may be in the same position as those he had killed as his soul left its mortal shell.
The battle had ended almost as soon as it had begun as the Pelican Guards threw a cloak over Lothir's dead body before disposing of it, as it would not do for such an event to be made public.
And throughout all of this, the young noble lord who had caused this incident was still fast asleep in his room, unaware and uncaring of what had happened, trusting in his men to be able to deal with any problem that may occur.