"Melanie Fort?"
The man at the counter asked with a raised brow. His eyes were on the lady who had just entered his inn. Her face was covered by a grey hood, giving her the same vibe as a wanted criminal.
"Yes," she whispered.
Her voice was soft and calming. But this innkeeper had no intentions of lowering his guard.
The only reason Road Keep was still running was that he was able to avoid the bandits that roamed the area. If he let a bandit stay here then he might end up dead.
"Take off your hood."
He was sure to know if she really was a bandit from her face alone.
Surprisingly, she complied without a word, her blue eyes visible as her red hair flowed down her neck.
That was definitely not a bandit, the shop owner concluded.
Apart from her beauty was this tired look on her face, as if she was carrying the entire world on her shoulders.
"I'm sorry," the innkeeper said with a sigh. "The folks that just came in bought all the rooms left. I'd really love to help a pretty girl like you but there's nothing I can do."
The lady didn't complain, she just nodded and went to the bar.
The innkeeper noted how young she was, no more than twenty years old. If he were still in the prime of his life, he might have taken the chance to strike up a conversation with her. It wasn't every day one saw a beauty.
Also, he was already a greying old man with grandchildren.
…
The mission had gone south. These words played in Melanie's mind the moment she saw Vale walking into the military college's carriage.
Now he was protected, and killing him
wasn't something she could do anymore.
As she went to the bar, she ordered a few alcoholic drinks. Alcohol was forbidden by the association, but she decided to disobey the rules for the first time ever.
She didn't know what the boy had done or why she had to kill him, but that was how it had always been; don't think, just follow orders.
With a sigh, she took a gulp from the drink. It was the first time she ever tasted alcohol and it would also be the last.
(Melanie, why did you hesitate?)
She took another sip, trying her best to forget who she was. This job wasn't her first high-priority assassination, but it was the first where things had gone south.
"I didn't know these areas had such beauties," a young man in silver armour said as he approached her.
She didn't say a word, just continued drinking.
"She's also a heavy drinker. Mind if I sit here?" His hands were on the chair opposite her, but he waited for her consent.
"Do what you want," she replied in an alcohol heavy voice.
She could easily clear the haze that the alcohol brought to her mind. But that would kill the entire point of drinking.
Right now she wanted to lose herself. And be someone else for a moment.
("Melanie, why did you hesitate?"
Five-year-old Melanie looked at the dead body, soaked in blood, on the floor. She had heard her father's words and was thinking of an answer.
"I don't think he deserved to die," she finally said after a good long while.
Her father chuckled—one of the few times he had ever sounded happy. "And why does that matter to you?"
Little Melanie was confused and it took her some seconds to respond.
"Well… I don't wanna kill people who don't deserve to die."
Her father didn't respond, only placed his hand on her head and rubbed her soft hair.
They both watched the blood slowly pool under the body until the body was completely drained of blood.
"Melanie," her father said in a now heavy voice. "It is impossible to truly know who deserves to die. Only a god can know that.
"That's why we follow the orders of [redacted]. Only He truly knows who deserves to die. This man may seem good on the surface, but if [redacted] said he deserved to die, then you should believe with all your heart. After all, your heart and soul belong to [redacted]."
It took a while to digest, but the little redhead nodded at her father.
He then squatted and looked her in the eye.
"Always remember: we are the heroes, and every person we kill gives a million other people better lives. We members of [redacted] are the salvation of mankind.")
When Melanie woke up, she found herself in the arms of the young man who had come up to her. They both lay on the soft mattress without any clothes, so it was obvious what had happened the previous night. She didn't mind it, she didn't mind anything at all.
The sky was still dark with the sun's frame peeking over the horizon.
She still had a job to do. A mission to fulfil. So she got up, got dressed, and stepped out of the inn.
...
Athena was more than surprised when the assassin didn't attack in the night. With her level of strength, it was easy to watch everything going on in the inn.
So she was surprised when the assassin left the inn. Still, she had no plans of dwelling on it. They had to move early so as not to get stuck in traffic when they teleported to the city.
The others were awake too, and soon everyone, including Vale, was on the ground floor.
Vale rubbed his eyes as he received another sandwich from Athena.
"Let's get moving," she said, and all he could do was follow behind her while yawning.
Everyone went into their respective carriages and the journey resumed once again. However, the journey that just started came to a halt in less than a minute.
There was someone in the middle of the road: a lady with red hair and blue eyes. She seemed to be preparing.
Darion got down and wanted to ask her to kindly step out. But something happened.
The lady's body started levitating and the day that had just dawned turned back to night. Everyone felt the changes and they peeked out the window to see what was going on.
Athena had a look of apprehension as she made up her mind to stop whatever the lady was trying to do, but she was too late.
The floating body's stomach bulged grotesquely, until it began to tear. And a man, skinny, pale and sickly, crawled out, covered in blood and bodily fluids.
Time seemed to pause as he looked around.
His mouth then slowly opened.
"Too few people to kill."