“...Why? You’re seriously asking why? That guy is shady as fuck and he brought me to a place full of death! Must I wait until I ate the most likely poisoned soup and be at his mercy before killing him? I think not!”

Cain started to speak to himself again.

“...So you girls can’t see that? Okay, we learn new things every day,” Cain wiped his bloody sword with Arnold’s clothes. If that was even his real name, the youth thought.

“...Yes, I know he can’t hear me tough-talk him after I beheaded him. The line is not for him but for me! Never use a premortem one-liner. It's challenging fate to end you before you kill your opponent. That is number 6 on that hallowed list I mentioned.”

Cain sheathed his sword and relaxed. “...Well kittens, people die if they are killed,” looking pleased and somewhat smug as he said that. No more than two heartbeats later, he was stabbed from the back.

“Ghhrg!?”

A dagger pierced his heart and the tip could be seen coming out from his chest. Panic and confusion were in his eyes. The pain impeded effective thinking. Before he could mount a response, a whisper came to accompany him before he went on a journey to the afterlife.

“Die, mad boy.”

The assailant pulled his dagger and Cain fell face-first to the floor, blood flowed from the wound like water from a leaky bag.

***

Demetrus didn't know what went wrong tonight.

He was waiting for his apprentice to come with supplies before going together on a mission. Years on the field made him have a certain habit other people might find peculiar. Demetrus was more comfortable staying hidden in the shadows rather than walking under daylight. Which he demonstrated tonight, despite being alone in a rundown shack under snowy weather.

Tarakai showed promise as an assassin. He had talent, will, and cunning thanks to his less than fortunate upbringing. He turned poor birth into his advantage, something most people failed to do. All in all, a good seedling to raise and in the middle of his trial to become a full-fledged member. The Bone Ravens -what most people called the assassin's guild- had an unusual way of inducting new members. They must kill five people on the same Level as them. It's up to them how they kill their target, by guile or brute-force.

When his apprentice came with another Pathseeker, Demetrus knew what Tarakai was planning. Like a hunter stumbled upon a game and decided to make it tonight’s dinner, his apprentice led the unfortunate chubby youth into the jaws of death. Demetrus didn’t lend a hand or intervene, this was Tarakai’s show and he would stay a spectator until the end. Silently, he remained seated at the edge of the room without emitting any sign of life. His breath was as silent as the grave and his heartbeats were as soft as falling feathers. A bodily feat he achieved after years of training with the Ravens.

Demetrus remained still inside the shack and invisible to the naked eye by using his trusted Arte. The youth went inside the shack first and failed to detect anything. As it should be, Demetrus thought, because he was a Level 1 and the youth was a Level 0 Pathseeker. Demetrus was confident his technique would fool someone on the same Level as himself, let alone this naïve and fat fawn.

Okay, not so naïve then, Demetrus thought. The youth remained vigilant, his sword stayed within an arm’s reach and he never showed his back to Tarakai. Nice sword though, I can tell even from just the hilt… Did my apprentice find a descendant of blessed birth dreaming of slaying monsters and saving princesses? Demetrus mused.

Demetrus suspected the boy, who introduced himself as Cain of Ur, would not touch the soup Tarakai was making.

At least the boy isn’t a complete idiot who trusts a stranger he just met. Well, what’s your next move apprentice? Creating an opportunity to launch an assassination is an important skill. If no opening can be found, retreating to find a better occasion later is also a valid option.

Demetrus watched the performance of his ward like a teacher grading a test paper. If Tarakai messed up and this turned into a fight, Demetrus wouldn’t help Tarakai but wouldn’t let him die either. Experiencing the sting of failure was one of the better ways to learn, Demetrus thought.

Then the boy separated his apprentice’s head from the rest of his body.

Demetrus’ vision went black for a moment; he couldn’t believe what he just saw. The boy’s slash was so quick and without hesitation whatsoever. It had the decisiveness of a lightning strike from the sky. What was more unbelievable, he didn’t show any sign of killing intent until the very last moment. By then, even if Demetrus wanted to react to save Tarakai’s life, it was already too late.

“...Why? You’re seriously asking why?”

The boy started to speak and Demetrus’ heart skipped a beat. He thought that his cover was blown and the boy was addressing him.

Hells and Damnations! Is this boy actually an expert!? Did my apprentice think he found a fat chicken to skin but it turns out to be a Babadoa Dragon? Am I going to die tonight!!?

A thousand panicked thoughts flashed inside Demetrus’ brain. He was carefully picking his next actions that wouldn’t make this expert in weakling’s skin kill him like an afterthought when the boy spoke again.

“...So you girls can’t see that?”

A few moments later, his fears proved false. The boy started talking to himself about topics unknown to him. He concluded Tarakai was just unlucky meeting a rabid dog. Demetrus couldn’t save his apprentice but he could still do him justice.

So the assassin stabbed the youth in the back. In the same decisiveness Cain of Ur bestowed upon his apprentice.

An eye for an eye.

A life for a life.

“Die, mad boy.” Demetrus whispered to the soon to be departed. This wasn’t the first time he stabbed a heart, so he didn’t make a mistake impaling Cain’s beating organ. It was a fatal blow.

Demetrus pulled out the knife with a yank and the chubby boy’s body fell like a puppet with its strings cut. He didn’t pay any more attention to his victim and hurried to his apprentice instead.

Tarakai was beheaded and stabbed through the heart. Even a child would know with one glance that he was no longer alive, let alone an experienced assassin like Demetrus but human feelings were a mysterious thing. He approached the body and knelt before it.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way…” Demetrus weakly said. A gush of sadness and regret hit him like rushing water from an opened dam.

In that moment of weakness, Demetrus failed to prevent a sudden chokehold on him.

“Ackk!”

Someone choked him from the back!

Cain, strangled him with his left arm. While a rear naked choke needed two arms to perform, his other hand was occupied. Cain held a knife in reverse grip with his right hand and thrust it to Demetrus’ chest from the front with a vengeance.

***

Despite the fatal wound, Cain of Ur was standing once again. The revenge stab he delivered to his assailant was less deadly than he wanted because of his injury. A hole in one’s chest wasn't exactly something one just walked off. Cain wanted to perform the stab multiple times but Demetrus broke free before he could strike a second time.

Demetrus had a hole in his left lung, but he struggled and freed himself from Cain’s hold. After he had taken some distance, Demetrus viewed Cain with eyes full of disbelief.

“How?” He rasped, voice like scraped wood. “You should be dead!” Demetrus screamed. His hand was on his chest, trying to stop the blood from flowing out.

Cain’s mouth was open for a second before he changed his mind and closed it tight. His answer was a steel-cold killing intent on the man in front of him. Cain’s injury did not miraculously heal and while his condition was far from ideal, he was not helpless. Gone was the flippant demeanor he showed earlier. His very being was in a kill-or-be-killed mode.

Cain attacked first, wanting to capitalize on Demetrus’ initial disorientation. However, the man was not a greenhorn, Demetrus parried Cain’s blade with his dagger. He picked a second dagger with his left hand and thrust it to Cain’s neck.

In response, Cain jumped back, but even in retreat he attacked. From Cain’s sword, he slashed three times in the air and three blades of water rushed toward Demetrus.

Water Slash! So he’s the same as me, a water Pathseeker. Demetrus thought.

He parried the water blades and launched a counterattack.

“Water Javelin!” Demetrus shouted.

A two meters long javelin made of water materialized and attacked Cain. In response, Cain ducked but the dodge was too close for comfort. The sound when the javelin pierced the air felt like a brush with death. The javelin went through the shack’s wall and disappeared outside.

A strong enemy! Not the time to hold back! Cain wiped the red on his lips before attacking again with thick killing intent and boiling blood.