Isekai Assassin: Volume 1 Page 6

  But first, I needed Renard to wake up.

  It took a little over twenty minutes for him to stir. I had my back turned when his eyes opened, but a soft groan slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself. I turned in a flash and pinned him to the ground, my hand over his mouth and a blade to his neck.

  “Make a sound until I tell you to, and you die. Painfully. Do you understand?”

  Renard just stared at me, eyes wide. He shook from fear, and as I stared at him, he was younger than I first thought. He looked about twenty, but his obvious addiction had aged him before his time. His blue eyes were haunted and haggard.

  “Nod if you understand,” I said.

  He shook his head violently up and down.

  “Good.” I removed my hand but kept the blade to his neck. “Your boss. What’s their name?”

  Renard’s eyes widened by a fraction, lighting up in surprise. He coughed, quickly turning his head as he spit a thick gob of phlegm to the floor. When he turned back, he nodded again and spoke, his voice hoarse.

  “My boss. Yeah. Him. His name is Daniel.”

  I nodded. “At least you can follow orders. Now I’m going to need you to do me a favor.”

  “Sure, sure. Whatever ya need.” Renard leaned up. Unrestrained hope blossoming across his face. “I help ya, and ya let me go, right? That’s fair.”

  “Only fair,” I parroted.

  “Alright. Whatcha need?”

  I pointed out the window. “I need you to shout and make some noise, get Daniel’s attention, and tell him there’s something he has to see in the barn. Can you do that for me?”

  “Sure can.” Renard nodded and got up.

  I removed the blade from his neck and led him to the window.

  “Start shouting.”

  He smiled, a friendly smile trying to placate me, and then turned crouching on top of the hay to peer out. He cupped his hands to his mouth and began shouting.

  “Hey, Daniel. Come outside! Quick!”

  It didn’t take long. I crouched beside Renard as a soft creak split the air from the door opening, followed by the thump as it slammed into the wall.

  “Hell, Renard. Heard ya the first time. Quit shoutin’ and tell me what the hell’s goin’ on?”

  “Ya gotta see this.” He leaned out the window and waved them forward, putting his all into selling it.

  “Alrigh’, alrigh’, hold on a damn minute,” Daniel replied.

  Renard pulled his head back in and hopped down from the hay.

  He leaned in close and whispered. “That’s what ya needed, right? I can go?”

  “That’s exactly what I needed.” I smiled.

  Renard relaxed, his shoulders slumped forward, and his hands unclenched. He sighed and turned away, looking back toward the ground.

  “Why’d ya get me to bring them he─”

  My arm closed around Renard’s throat, and I placed a hand over his mouth as I plunged my knife through his heart.

  “I lied. Sorry,” I whispered.

  I sunk the blade in his chest two more times, twisting as I pulled out each time. The front of his shirt was drenched in crimson as he fell to the floor and lay still.

  Footsteps shuffled to the door, and I quickly slunk over and perched near the window. I peered out.

  Three of the bandits had come out when Renard had shouted. They were the same rough-looking men from earlier, and it seemed they traveled in a pack.

  I cursed under my breath. Three complicated the matter slightly, but nothing I could do about it now. I just had to adapt my plan.

  The heavy wooden gate screamed as they shoved it open.

  “Renard, where tha hell are ya?” the big, brutish one, Daniel, asked as he stepped inside. He gasped. “What the fuck? Bisha!”

  Huh, so the dead man I left on the floor was Bisha.

  Though I didn’t have time to ruminate on the name of the man I killed or the life he’d led. I had more men to kill.

  My original plan was to ambush the leader when he checked the corpse, but that wasn’t going to work now. I’d be wide open while I took him down.

  Which meant I had to improvise.

  I gripped my knife in my right hand and dove out the window. I snagged the sill with my left hand as I dropped and held myself aloft by my fingertips. It hurt like hell, and the old wood dug into my fingers hard enough to bleed.

  But it gave me the second I needed to slow my momentum and drop to the grass without twisting an ankle.

  One of the men turned as I landed, but I buried my knife to the hilt in the side of his face before he could speak. He dropped with a half-gurgled screech.

  The other two were just inside the barn, and they jolted up at the man’s dying shout.

  “Who the─” Daniel said and stopped as his reflexes kicked in.

  I knelt as I stepped forward and grabbed a handful of dirt and grass in my off-hand as I closed the distance to the second bandit.

  He was skinny, with a shaved head and wide, green eyes.

  I tossed the dirt in an arc directly into his face and blinded him for a moment.

  My blade came up and sliced through his throat. I stepped through the slice and kicked his leg out from under him. He fell to the ground, and I buried the knife to the hilt in his back, right over his heart.

  “You son of a bitch!” Daniel shrieked as I killed his friends.

  Daniel was a tall, heavily built man with thick, lanky hair. A man who looked to have spent his entire life as an enforcer. He had the dull, dead eyes of a career thug for hire. He was taller than me, broader than me, and I was betting he could hit a lot harder than me.

  The rush of battle flowed through my veins as I drew my second knife.

  The rest of the bandits were child’s play. Daniel seems like he’ll put up a fight.

  Good.

  Time to really see what my skills can do in this new world.

  Chapter 5- The Bandit Leader

  Getting into straight-up fights happened more often than I cared to admit. Even for one of the best assassins in the business, there was nothing I could do about good old human unpredictability.

  I realized early on that stealth skills weren’t the only things I needed as an assassin, and I’d learned how to fight.

  And I’d gotten very good at it.

  Daniel had no weapon. He fought with his fists, which was fine with me.

  I danced back and stowed my knife at my belt and brought my hands up. “Normally, you’d already be bleeding to death like your friends, but I’m not from around here, and I need to see how I hold up in a fight. You don’t mind sparring with me, do you?”

  “I’m going to rip you apart.” Daniel smiled, showing two rows of blackened or missing teeth. “I’ll have you squealing, begging me for death. You’ll regret messing with the Black Iron Gang.”

  I smirked at him. “We’ll see about that.”

  Daniel swung wide, a savage haymaker that would’ve knocked me unconscious if it landed. But it was a poor swing. Too heavy-handed and absolutely no finesse. It told me everything I needed to know about how he fought.

  A haymaker was adequate for dealing with drunks in a bar or a street brawl against people who didn’t know how to fight.

  It was a poor attack against anyone with actual training.

  Shuffling forward, I threw my left hand up. I caught his bicep on my forearm and stopped it cold. As I blocked, I brought my fist to his face in a swift jab. His nose crunched under my blow, blood running down to stain his lips.

  Your Hand-to-Hand skill has increased by 1! [Hand to Hand: 3 (Novice)] +25 Exp!

  There were several moves that I could’ve done to end the fight right then and there. It would’ve been so simple, but I wasn’t quite ready to end things.

  I brought my knee to his groin but didn’t put my full power behind the strike. It was just to get him to lock up so I could disengage.

  Daniel seized as I tapped his jewels, his face blanching as he locked up in pain.
I backed up, keeping my distance and drawing the sword at my hip.

  When Daniel righted himself, I motioned with my blade to the ground, where his friend had dropped his sword.

  “Pick it up. Let’s see if you’re any better with steel than you are with your fists.”

  He growled, his eyes screaming murder as he knelt, and roughly grabbed for the sword, picking up a handful of dirt and grass in the process. He shook his hand and let the small clods fall back to the earth as he settled into a rough sword stance.

  Not trained, but he’s watched someone with training fight. Means he won’t be a threat even with the sword in his hand.

  I’d wanted to test myself, but this was a poor showing. It was clear he was just a thug rather than a fighter. There was nothing more that I could learn from Daniel.

  “Kill you!” he screamed, lunging at me.

  His blade sailed toward my heart, whistling as it cut the surrounding air. I shifted on the balls of my feet and met his blade with my own. I parried his attack with the flat of my sword and whipped the sword across Daniel’s thigh, severing the femoral artery.

  “I appreciate your help, but I’m afraid I have to cut this short.”

  He screamed wordlessly, his loud voice echoing around the silent farmstead.

  Daniel attacked again. His swings becoming unhinged as I danced out of the way. My precise movements only infuriated him more.

  I stepped forward and brought my sword to his arm, slicing a thick groove up his forearm. Daniel dropped his blade, howling in pain as I split open his vein. Another step and I sliced through his neck and moved around to his back.

  Grounding my stance, I rammed the tip of my sword through him.

  Your Swordsmanship skill has increased by 1! [Swordsmanship: 1 (Novice)] +25 Exp!

  “A shame. I’d hoped for more of a fight, but unfortunately, I’m left wanting.” I pulled my steel from his back. “Maybe the actual leader of the Black Iron Gang will prove more challenging.”

  Daniel gurgled, but his lungs were rapidly filling with blood, and he could no longer form a sentence with his vocal cords severed. He dropped to the ground, spilling his lifeblood from the numerous gashes I’d rendered across his flesh.

  I’d known that Daniel wasn’t the actual boss from the moment Renard opened his mouth. His eyes gave him away, and he’d taken too long to answer me. Daniel was just a scapegoat.

  With Daniel dead, I’d dealt with seven of the bandits, which left one more gang member to take care of. And I was betting I’d find them in the house.

  The blood staining my sword needed to be cleaned, so I knelt and wiped my blade on the back of Daniel's shirt. It was already mostly soaked through with blood, so a little bit more wouldn’t hurt.

  When my blade was clean, I retrieved my knife I’d buried in the one man’s neck and headed to the house.

  The door was solid, made from the same wood as the rest of the house, but there was a lighter stain on the door and a brass handle. I depressed the handle softly, checking that it was unlocked, and slipped inside.

  The house was well furnished with simple yet well-constructed furniture. Nothing was extravagant, but I could tell instantly that it was all excellent quality wood and cloth.

  As the door shut softly behind me, I walked into a lounge area. It held multiple chairs and small round tables—plenty of places for people to sit. A few lanterns were burning, either hanging on the walls or nested on tables, providing ample lighting to the space.

  Which was alive. As I crouched low, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my mouth dried.

  Someone’s here.

  I paused and waited, listening.

  Soft cries came from in front of me, and I slipped silently from the parlor, past the well-stocked kitchen into a bedroom.

  Like the rest of the house, the bedroom, though small, was well decorated. The walls were covered with portraits, a family. Pictures of a man and a woman with a child. Quite a few of them. Along with a dresser and nightstand made from rich chestnut wood. A bed sat on a well-crafted frame made from the same material. However, the emerald sheets were in disarray.

  The room had a cozy, cabin feel to it, but the crying woman in the corner kind of ruined the atmosphere.

  She was curled in on herself, her knees to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She had her head buried, and her long, mahogany hair covered any of her features.

  She whimpered, but as I stepped into the room, her head perked up. She had a ruddy complexion, a slim, cute face, and cerulean eyes that widened as she took me in.

  “Please, dear god. Please help me!” she pleaded with tears streaming down her face.

  Her once beautiful red dress was torn at the shoulders and neckline, revealing most of her ample cleavage. Sweat beaded on her chest to slip over her breasts and slither beneath the folds of her outfit.

  She glanced at me with hope in her eyes. “They’ve kept me here for weeks. You have to save me! You will save me, won’t you?”

  As I stepped toward her, a flash of color caught my eye. Two small scraps of red fabric had been hastily tucked under the bed frame.

  The air changed, growing cooler as my body temperature raised. My skin itched at seeing her.

  Clever.

  The woman shifted on the floor, turning toward me. As she moved, there was a nearly inaudible scrape of metal against wood.

  I smirked and rested my hand on a knife.

  “You know,” I said, shifting to the side, blocking the door. “I’ve lost track of the number of people I’ve killed over the years.” I sighed and shook my head. “I used to remember well. Knew their faces and names, their life stories. But as the years went by and the number grew, I remembered less and less. Until even the number itself slipped away.”

  “What?” she asked, leaning toward me. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not saying this to brag, I’m actually rather ashamed that I can’t remember, but I want you to understand something. I’ve stared far too many people in the eye as they knew they would die. It's not an expression that can be mistaken for anything else.”

  The knife at my waist slid smoothly from its worn leather sheath.

  “It’s also not an expression that can be easily faked, and you’re not half the actress you need to be to fool me.”

  She spluttered, pausing. “No, please, you don’t understand! My name’s Kathlen. I’ve been held here for weeks by those men. You have to get me away from here!”

  I chuckled and stepped toward her. “I applaud your commitment, but why don’t you stop playing around and go for the blade hidden by your right foot.”

  Kathlen’s eyes widened as I called her out before her face relaxed, settling to a calm indifference.

  “Damn, not as stupid as you look.” She reached low, grabbing the small knife as she stood from the floorboards, and rushed me.

  She let out a half-strangled snarl as her battle cry. The polished steel of her knife flashed as she brought it toward my neck.

  I had to give it to her. She was fast. Faster than any of her men, that’s for damn sure.

  As she struck, I leaned back on my heels. The steel slashed an inch from my throat. Her hand sailed past, and I reached out with my off-hand and grabbed her by the wrist.

  With a quick twist, I broke it and forced her hand open to drop the blade. I kicked it away and put her arm behind her back in a lock as my knife went to her throat.

  Your Hand-to-Hand skill has increased by 1! [Hand-to-Hand: 4 (Novice)] +25 Exp!

  “You’re actually skilled with a blade, and you’re light on your feet. Better than any of your men by far.” I grinned. “You might’ve wounded anyone else. Though, of course, most other men would’ve likely fallen for your little damsel in distress act, so maybe I’m giving the rest of my gender far too much credit.”

  Kathlen struggled against me, which only caused her pain as I applied pressure to her arm. She cried out, bringing genuine tears to her eyes
.

  “Bastard! If you’re going to rape me, get on with it!” she spat. “Though don’t think I’ll make it easy for you.”

  I snorted, dropping her hand and moving around her. I grabbed her by the throat and shoved her against the bed frame, my knife going to her chest.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to lay a finger on you.” I lifted my fingers holding her and wiggled them. “Barring my grip around your neck, of course. I might kill you, but I’d never defile you.”

  She stared into my eyes and blinked. Her posture relaxed, and her shoulders slumped as she exhaled.

  Kathlen shook her head slightly. “Then what do you want with me? I’m at your mercy, and I suspect I’d already be bleeding out if there wasn’t something you needed from me.

  “If it isn’t my body, then what?”

  “Information.” I smiled at her. “I’m…well…let’s say I’m new around here and ignorant of a great many things. I’m hoping you can illuminate a few matters for me.”

  “Illumi─what?” She shook her head. “Don’t know what that means, but if you need information, I can tell you whatever you want to know.”

  I nodded and eased my grip on her. “Good. Then let's start with the most important thing. This strange status or whatever that has words floating in front of me. What the hell is it?”

  She cocked her head to the side, her brow furrowing. “Status magic? That’s what it’s called. But shouldn’t you know that? Even if you’re new to Chordis, the entire world has access to status magic. It’s a gift from Weilin.

  “You’re telling me you’re just now using yours? That’s impossible.”

  Status magic. So Weilin told me the truth and magic exists here. I put that thought aside for a moment and focused on her question.

  “Why is that impossible?”

  “Because everyone gets access to their status screen when they turn sixteen. You’re obviously well into adulthood. You should’ve had access to your screen for years now, no matter what country you came from.”

  Status screen? Interesting.