Isekai Assassin: Volume 1 Read online

  I’ve got a map with me everywhere now? Yeah, sure. Why not?

  Though I shouldn’t complain if it makes my life easier; why question a good thing?

  I ignored the map in my vision and turned back to the one on the table. My best bet in the near future would be to head to Vohra City and establish myself there.

  There wasn’t much I could do from the farmstead, and even after only a few weeks, I was getting antsy. Sitting still wasn’t something I’d ever liked doing.

  But I had to be prepared before I stepped foot inside the city, had to know what I was walking into.

  I found a book on Chordis after a more detailed search of the room. After reading it, I had a better understanding of the city I was walking into, but only barely. The book was a dozen years old, and I assumed most of the information was out of date, but it was a start.

  And with that bit of knowledge, I had come up with a plan.

  I was going to venture to Vohra City and start getting my bearings in this world, and some better equipment certainly. I felt naked without my gear.

  On top of that, I still didn’t know what my first task from Weilin was, but I assumed I was dropped off in this location for a reason. The only other place around here was the city, so it made sense for me to head there.

  So that’s what I started planning for.

  As I gathered up the few books I wanted to take with me, I scanned the shelves to see if I’d missed anything. My finger caught on the worn spine of a nameless hardback book, and I accidentally tugged it out. It fell to the ground, and I knelt to pick it up. As soon as I opened it, another book tumbled out of it.

  I caught it before it hit the floor and brought it closer. It was labeled The Basic Principles of Magic by Norman Tolh.

  I was instantly intrigued. Weilin had told me magic was real, but I hadn’t seen anything else magical other than the status magic.

  The book was thin, barely a hundred pages end to end, and I tore through it.

  It explained the basics of magic and how it worked in conjunction with status magic.

  It was rather simple.

  Once I had a spell, all I had to do was think of the name or say it to use the spell.

  The book went on to state that all magic came from Weilin and that it was a gift. The rest of the book was a history lesson about magic and about the practical uses of magic and a few of the types that had been discovered. There were even schools dedicated to studying magic. Though none were nearby, the closest one was in the capital.

  As I finished the book, my status flashed.

  Hidden Quest: Learn about Magic Completed!

  Congratulations on learning about magic!

  Reward: 200 Exp + Flame Spell Ember

  What? Magic. I learned a spell.

  I immediately opened my status to look at it.

  Spells

  Ember (Basic): Generates a small, flickering flame. The most basic spell available to all aspiring mages. Useful for lighting candles or starting a fire.

  Mana drain: Negligible

  I didn’t care that it was the most basic spell available or that it had limited uses. I had magic.

  Real, tangible magic.

  “Ember,” I whispered.

  Instantly a single flame appeared at my fingertip, casting a dancing shadow over my hand. Though the flame was touching my skin, it didn’t burn me.

  As a test, I ripped a page from a book about Chordis’s bird migration patterns and lit it on fire. It went up as paper does, but I wasn’t surprised by the heat that rose off it when I ran my hand near the flame.

  So I can use Ember to start a fire and not get burned, but the flames that start once it’s out of my hand burn me like normal.

  Magic. I grinned. I have magic.

  After I extinguished the flame, I began my preparations. There was nothing more keeping me here.

  I slaughtered the pig and chickens, butchered them, and seasoned the meat before I grilled it and wrapped it up in butcher's paper. I deleted the butcher skill and placed the wrapped meat on the counter. It wasn’t much, but it would be more than enough sustenance while I walked to the city and until I could get my bearings.

  When I was done, I grabbed all of my belongings and threw them in a small canvas backpack I found along with a thin, green traveling cloak that would shield me from the sun but also hide the fact I was carrying weapons.

  As soon as everything was packed and ready, I set off.

  I took one last look back at the farmstead that had been my home for nearly a month, and a twinge of regret lingered in my chest.

  It’s almost like leaving home that last time.

  Flashes of that day flowed through my mind. I’d gone to town for some fresh milk because our cow was sick, only to come back to the farmstead burning.

  My mother, her face bloody, lying in the middle of the street as monsters masquerading as men ransacked the fields for food.

  I shook my head to clear away the bad memories.

  Never got to say my goodbyes then either.

  The sun was bright as I stared up at the sky and rubbed my eyes. The half-moon was barely visible. Aurella isn’t as pretty of a name as Luna, but I have to admit that it fits. I glanced past the moon to Koel, the giant blue planet hanging just over Aurella’s shoulder.

  Though I doubted the knowledge of what the moon and planet were called would ever benefit me, it still helped ground me in this new world that I now called home.

  The urge to turn back to the farm was strong, but I ignored it and kept walking, setting a rapid pace through the forest.

  It took a little over a day to slip through the woods and find the main road. Though I could’ve done it without the map in my vision, it helped tremendously to keep me on the right path.

  I stopped only sporadically to eat and drink as I made my way toward the city.

  When night fell, I hunkered up in a tree a little ways off the road and slept fitfully, only getting as much rest as I needed before I set off again in the morning.

  As I got closer to the city, I found a group of highwaymen stationed along the road, trying to find a good merchant to rob. I gave them a wide berth and easily slipped past them without them having a clue.

  It was just after ten or so in the morning by the time I reached the city.

  Tall, slate stone walls rose in a circle around the city. The battlements overhead were patrolled by guards armed with longbows.

  A massive wrought iron gate loomed in front of me, guarded by two men.

  There was a dichotomy with the guards. One of them was older and bore the no-nonsense of a trained soldier, while the other seemed to be green as grass.

  They were heavily equipped. Full plate mail for the older man on the right. He bore a helmet with several colorful plumes sticking up, signifying his rank and stations.

  C’mon. I read about this. I wracked my brain, trying to remember the numerous details that I’d absorbed from my studies. Ah, that’s right. Red means he’s a lieutenant. The white signifies a member of the nobility, and the blue is an act of heroism in battle.

  The lieutenant wasn’t someone that should be trifled with lightly, and his armor signified as much. It must have cost a pretty penny, probably more than the average guard made in a year.

  The other soldier was much less impressive. He wore a mixture of chainmail over leather. And he didn’t even have a helmet.

  New recruit or just incompetent?

  He had the fresh-faced look of a newbie, so I didn’t judge him too harshly for his equipment, though a nagging voice told me that he was still far better equipped than I was.

  “Halt!” the kid said, deepening his voice to sound more official. “Stop, citizen.”

  I slowed up and waited for them, my hands fingering the knives under my cloak.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “State your name and present either your citizenship papers or your visa,” he replied.

  My name. That familiar cold fear that alwa
ys accompanied that question prickled my chest, sending a cold chill down my arms. It radiated through me before I paused as a delicious thought filled my head.

  My name means nothing now.

  I smiled wide. “My name is Elias. Elias McKinley. Though, I’m afraid, I’m new to the city.”

  The guard grunted in acknowledgment, his features not reacting at all to my name, which was amazing.

  “Tax to enter the city is five vahn. Grants a visa for two weeks. If you want to stay in the city for longer, you’ll need to apply for permanent residence or pay for an extended visa.” He paused and looked me up and down, taking me in. “I recommend that you pay promptly. Failure to do so could result in a hefty fine or a year of hard labor if you’re caught without your visa.”

  “Of course, of course,” I replied, keeping my smile wide on my face. “If possible, could I go ahead and pay for an extended visa. I plan on staying in the city for a while, and I’d rather it not slip my mind.”

  The lieutenant shrugged and coughed into his hand. “That you can, sir. The payment is fifteen vahn, but that is including the initial tax.”

  I quickly dug out the required funds and handed them over. The guard took my money and handed me back a roll of parchment with a crimson wax stamp on it.

  “This is good for two month’s stay. Though the same rules apply if you wish to stay longer, as well as the penalties for letting your visa lapse.”

  He looked up, whistled to the gate guard on top of the stone wall, and within a minute, the gate rolled up.

  “Have a good stay, sir,” he said as he ushered me in.

  I nodded my thanks and stored the paper in my sack as I walked through the stone tunnel. Though it was mid-morning and the sun was in full view, even its gaze couldn’t pierce the heavy stone that surrounded me, but the walls were lined with iron torch sconces that lit up the pathway.

  Once I was through the tunnel, I emerged, and the dimly lit tunnel opened to reveal a bustling and chaotic city.

  The worn cobblestone streets were lined on either side by a mixture of stone and wooden buildings at random. From the wooden and metal signs, most of them were storefronts, though many of the signs were too faded to make out what the names were or what they sold.

  A cacophony of smells assaulted my nose as I passed. The scent of baking bread mixed with the metallic tang of molten metal and half a dozen other smells, all undercut by the odor of unwashed bodies.

  Hundreds of people came and went at random through the cobblestone streets. Even a few cobs carrying buckets of water on their shoulders as they weaved through the people with practiced ease.

  It certainly reminded me of being back home in London. It didn’t matter what world I was in. A city was still a city.

  As I began walking through the streets, my status appeared in front of me.

  Quest: Assassinate Count Vohra

  Difficulty: Very Hard

  Reward: 3500 Exp+8000 Vahn

  Hidden Quest Reward

  Wait, what?

  I stopped and immediately got off the street, staring at the notification that appeared in front of me.

  Assassinate the count? I just got here, so why is this appearing?

  The answer hit me almost instantly. Weilin. He said I’d know what to do in time, and the first job he gives me is the assassination of the city’s ruler.

  It wasn’t that I had reservations about the job. I’d killed noblemen before, even a few counts before. But those were rather low-ranking nobles who got ahead of their station. They weren’t the leader of a city.

  This was problematic for a number of reasons.

  I could do it. I did not doubt my abilities to actually do the deed. But merely having the skills to carry out an assassination wasn’t the be all end all. There were many other factors at play.

  If I’m going to do this, I can’t do it right now.

  Killing the leader of the city is one thing. Getting away with it clean and avoiding the backlash is another problem altogether.

  One of my options was to buy my gear and kill the count immediately and then flee the city. That was the easiest, most direct plan, but I could never come back, and it wasn’t how I operated.

  I knew what I had to do. What my goal was.

  Work my way into the city’s underworld, establish myself, learn who to trust and watch and wait. Play this slow. I don’t have a time limit on the quest. So, I can afford to be patient.

  It would take time, months even, before I was ready to assassinate the count. But no way was I just going to hack my way through to the count and run for my life. That was a sloppy, careless plan, and those were two things I’d never let be associated with my name.

  Okay. I have a goal—time to get my bearings in the city and start making contacts.

  With a smile, I set off, disappearing into the crowd.

  Chapter 7- Information and Coin

  With a plan came a need—a need for money.

  I had the skills I needed to work in the city, but none of the connections or equipment to pull off what amounted to slaying the governing ruler.

  No gear, contacts, or safehouses. Everything I needed to successfully ply my trade. Any fool could kill a man, but getting away clean with no trace back to myself or the client, that was where I shined above the amateurs.

  But to adequately perform my job, I’d need the right tools and a base of operations.

  Things that required a good deal of money.

  It was like I was back in the forest clearing once again. Except now, my list of items I needed was a little different.

  Weapons, information, safehouse, shelter.

  Shelter and a safehouse were not the same. Not even close.

  I could rest almost anywhere, but having a place away from prying ears and eyes that I could work and plan in peace, that was invaluable.

  It was on the top of my list of things I needed but not the immediate priority.

  First things first, I needed new weapons.

  Which meant I needed to head to the Market District.

  The city was laid out in chaos as I walked through the crowded, bustling cobblestone streets. I was in the bourgeois section of the city. Neither the affluently wealthy nor the poor walked beside me. Because of this, though, I guess the city planning officer had given little thought to the design as there was no single district for shopping or residential districts that I could tell.

  Oftentimes, the shop and the owner's house were the same. It meant there wasn’t any one place I could have all the wares I needed displayed. But it also meant I found shops in the most unusual of places.

  I passed many people going about their day. A lot of women rather than men at this time of day. Children stuck close to their heels as they walked with a purposeful stride. Few people were just browsing or meandering about. Most people knew where they were going and didn’t waste time.

  Which meant it was easy to pick out the cutpurses and pickpockets. And there were a few of them about.

  The thieves knew how to watch people, but they let their eyes wander to the waists of the passersby too many times. They kept their hands in their trouser pockets, wearing unassuming colors of beige or brown. All of them were very plain looking, nondescript, standing out to no one but myself.

  One pickpocket, a gangly boy of what had to be only thirteen, eyed my purse as I passed. His eyes flicked down to the pouch barely hidden by my cloak, and then his eyes went to mine and stayed there.

  There is a stare that all killers acquire. It is inevitable. Killing chips away at the light in your eyes, and each kill further dulls that radiance.

  It’s a hard-edged stare; a dull, inhuman gaze.

  I dropped the false light from my sight, letting go of the mask I wore. My eyes relaxed as I stopped forcing them to look a certain way and let all the blood and misery I’d seen slip out. If it had to be quantified into one thing, it was a look that spoke of my willingness to commit terrible violence upon the person whose eyes me
t mine.

  A stare that held the life of whoever caught my gaze, and the knowledge that I could snuff out that life without remorse.

  The boy paled, his eyes going wide as pure terror filled them. He backed up on instinct, tripping over his worn leather boots and falling to his ass and landing in the side alley he’d been watching from.

  He put his hands in front of him, pleading, but by the time he looked up, I was just another face in the crowd.

  Your Killer’s Stare skill has increased by 1! [Killer’s Stare: 1 (Novice)] +25 Exp!

  I smiled to myself. Still got it.

  After that, I let my eyes brighten, hiding back behind the masquerade once more as I wandered around. I monitored the signs as I walked, passing by several weaponsmiths, but none had the feel of what I was looking for. They were bright, normal-looking shops, catering to an altogether different clientele than myself.

  As I passed by my third weapon shop in vain, I realized I was going about it the wrong way. While a run-of-the-mill weapon shop would have quality weapons for sale, what I needed was a shop that wasn’t on the main street. I didn’t want to make my purchases, only to have the shopkeeper tell the guard about the shady character who bought a bundle of throwing knives.

  I needed throwing knives, and there was only one reason why someone bought them. Hunting. Either animal or human.

  And I certainly didn’t look like an outdoorsman.

  I got off the main streets and started wandering the back alleys, looking for the perfect shop, but also getting my feel for Vohra, getting to know its streets.

  It would take time to map out the entire city, but I had nothing but time.

  After about an hour of wandering around, I found myself on the seedier side of the city. The darkened stone street was worn and chipped, the half-timbered style houses I passed were cracked, the whitewash faded. The worn-down buildings gave the place a dark atmosphere.

  Eventually, I found a shop that seemed to be exactly what I was looking for. It was down a rather spacious side alley that had little foot traffic, save for the beggars and a few females selling something I wasn’t buying.