Chapter 9 - Changing Plans

The darkness of the night shrouds the ominous castle, equipped in a set of form fitting black clothes I crouch among the shades of a garden. My eyes scan the silhouette of the dark castle, searching for a point of entry, there are many guard patrols from what I can see, I suspect the interior will be no less monitored. There are no obvious ways in, combined with the heavy patrols I decide that it is simply impossible to enter tonight, so I slip through the shadows, back to my estate.

Discreetly returning to Miranda’s study I find her nervously fiddling around with a sheet of paper, when I step out from the shadows, she jumps in fright, yelping, “Fera! You are back already, what happened?”

I casually sit on the free chair opposite her desk, saying, “Relax, the castle is simply too well guarded, I think it will be necessary to decide a more proper plan.”

Pondering for a moment, she lightly nods, saying, “That is reasonable, however there is a reason that we are doing things our way.”

I stretch my legs out as I recline more comfortably, agreeing, “Yes I know, discretion, however running straight in is simply a suicide mission, I need you to organise a way for me to get into the castle, I should be able to handle it from there.”

She frowns as she raises her hand to her chin, thinking, “Hmm, the only ways I can think of are through the delivery of goods, but those are thoroughly checked.”

She then shakes her head to herself, thinking aloud, “And bribing those guards would be too risky, guards do tend to be risk adverse, and in the situation where the count’s life is at stake, none would risk it. Moreover, we cannot have you residing in the court while you perform the assassination, your abilities are too well known so you will be high suspected should you at court during a murder.”

Finally she Sighs in resignation, “I will have to look into it then, I will come back to you as soon as I have something, but even me just inquiring on these things could have eyes point our way.”

I step up from the chair, saying, “Just take your time, your marriage is still in two years, I know you’re rushing because you feel that even that long is cutting it close, but I certainly don’t want us to lose our lives due to negligence.”

She smiles grimly, “Yes, I suppose you are right, anyway off to bed with you, it’s late!”

“Goodnight to you too,” I say as I shut the door behind me.

Agility increased by 1!

Strength increased by 1!

Another two months pass without anything of note occurring. Now that I’ve learnt the [Hashashin illusory blade arts] skill, I’ve split my training between physical cultivation and magical cultivation, both of which I’ve made rather insubstantial progress in. With the physical training I’ve mostly been practicing with [Hashashin illusory blade arts] to physically exert myself, then using [Hashashin’s cultivation] to increase my stats. My magical cultivation has mostly been me figuring out how to manipulate mana so I can start cultivating, progress has been unbelievably slow, but progress is still progress, when I will my mind of mana, instead of it merely reacting, I can vaguely guide a small chunk, this is still useless for cultivating my technique.

As I sit cultivating in my room at the dead of night, I hear a low knock, Mila playing tricks again? Opening it I see Miranda, who I haven’t seen much of lately, her eyes looked glazed with dark circles, yet she is smiling happily, “Come Fera, I have some good news.”

Sitting in her study at the dead of night, she explains, “I finally found our solution, forgive me for taking so long, as you know remaining untraceable was imperative. Anyway, using some of my father’s connections through a proxy, I was eventually able to uncover a viable way of getting you in. Every 6 months there is a shipment to the armory, this shipment will include things such as weaponry and armor, but it may also contain gifts for the count or people in his court, these gifts tend to be from important people, these people naturally do not want their gifts to be ravaged by guards, so a few decades ago a law was introduceed, if the appropriate seal is added to an item, it will be skipped for inspection. I have already signed the necessary documentation for a rather small chest filled with expensive tea to be sent to my father, it will be a tight fit for you, but the smaller the chest, the less suspicion it will draw.”

I nod in agreement, “Ok, how long until I set off?”

“Quite some time, 5 months until the next shipment, we missed the last one.”

5 months later

Endurance increased by 1!

Dexterity increased by 1!

Agility increased by 1!

Perception increased by 1!

Race: Human

Class: Mystic Scoundrel (rare)

Level: 5

Health: 70/70

Mana: 0/0

Stamina: 170/170

Strength: 14

Endurance: 17

Vitality: 7

Dexterity: 27

Agility: 39 (3)

Perception: 23 (3)

Charisma: 10

Intelligence: 31

Wisdom: 10

Magic: 0

Skills: [Hashashin Cultivation] [Hashashin illusory blade arts] lvl 3 [Hashashin dodge] lvl 5 [Hashashin’s eyes] lvl 1 [Mana sense]

Class Enhancements: [Delicate hands] [Lesser mystic scoundrel’s body] [Lesser mystic sight]

Scrunched up in fetal position, I feel the claustrophobic walls close up on my body. I’ve been like this for hours, fortunately my high agility makes such a position very tolerable, it’s more the lack of fresh oxygen and my sweatiness the makes the trip unbearable. Outside I can hear the muffled thumps of steps shuffling around and boxes being dragged or placed down. Eventually I feel my box being lifted, swinging around and eventually placed down, I wait around until the sound of steps ceases, according to what Miranda deduced, it will still be daytime at the moment, late afternoon, so I have to wait in the crate longer still, the trouble is that I can’t exactly gauge the time. After an inestimable amount of time, I flick a hinge and slowly slide the lid off. I’m in a storage room, boxes stack on top of each other, some sets of guard armor placed on mannequins and weaponry placed on weapon racks. I carefully navigate through the piles of boxes, reaching the door I slowly push it open a crack, a cold dark stone room appears, a few guardsmen wander through with a lantern. Once they pass through, I fully open the door and creep through the room, noting nothing of interest I continue on. The countess is known to reside in the upper levels and sleep separately from the count due to, marital reasons, so I’m searching for stairs. The castle is confusing to traverse, long dark hallways crisscross with one another and wooden doors appear every now and again.

The hallways are sparse too, with only occasional hanging flags adorning the walls, so getting caught in the open is a real possibility, I eventually reach some spiral stairs, the spiral being enclosed and very thin, silently walking the steps I note that this next floor is far more open, no longer consisting of long hallways, moreover there is furniture filling the room, couches, standing tables and red rugs. Crouched low I continue forth, going through rooms and interestingly not encountering any guards, but when I venture deeper into the castle I see why, there are guards directly placed outside a room, I scout around a little more and note there are four other rooms guarded as such, one room has a very long hallway to its door, flags adorn the walls and bright red carpet extends along the hallway. Five rooms total, equal to the number of people in the count’s immediate family, his wife and 3 kids. This is a problem Miranda, and I didn’t consider, I’m not a properly trained assassin after all. However, when I mull over it a little more, it’s honestly a non-problem, three of the rooms seem to be closer to the outskirts, I can assume those are the children, the room with the more majestic entrance is likely the count’s room. Having deduced the countess’ room, I now have to determine a course of action to assassinate her. I won’t be able to silently kill the guards, I can’t even see the guards’ levels and in their more decorative guard armor, they look powerful. I have two choices then, either to wait or to storm past the guards and kill Urela Featherson before I get caught, escaping will be difficult, but my skillset favors such situations. I decide to go all or nothing, it’s unlikely she will leave her room before dawn. I crouch low, hiding in the flickering shadows that are formed from the walled torch, once I’m as close as I can get without being discovered, I dash multiple times with [Hashashin’s dodge], becoming a mysterious mist, the guards not even reacting before I perform my blade arts and slash through the door, splinters flying along with my form. Still in my dark mist form, I glide towards the countess who was staring in my direction, utterly befuddled. Before she can even react, my blade easily slices through her neck, her eyes widen in horror as she grasps at the gaping slice on her throat, a loud bellow echoes, “Intruder!”

As the guards rush in with their blades drawn, I shift around the room in my indistinguishable form, I keep my momentum and shoot back to the rooms entrance. The guards with their high perception see my action and try to swing their swords in my direction, however my body twists and turns awkwardly as I worm my way through their attacks, a blade barely nipping me on my forearm. I grit, repeatedly activating [Hashashin’s dodge] to escape the cascading guards by the skin of my teeth, receiving bloody wounds that begin to leave my figure red. That isn’t the end of it, a raging form flashes, I minutely tilt my body reactively, the attack barely scratching my arm yet somehow almost slicing it off, I gasp, “Agh!”, fortunately they lose momentum with that attack allowing me to run off to a stairwell. Descending downstairs I eventually come across a slim window slitting through the spiral, the drop is long, and my body will barely fit through, but it seems like a good opportunity to escape. I slide through, trying to find purchase on the wall, my high dexterity allowing me to get a reasonably good grip on the slightly jutting stone blocks, crawling down the castle as fast as my body will allow, I jump off the last section, stumbling I escape away into the night…

Health: 14/70

Stamina 4/170

Returning to the estate, I awkwardly dash up to the open window of Miranda’s study, when I see her, I collapse to the ground a great intensity of agony washes over me as my adrenaline wears off, inducing me to scream out, “It hurts, it fucking hurts, oh god, my arm!!!”

Miranda looks at me in genuine panic as she runs over to me, potion in hand she forces me to drink it and comforts me in her arms until I calm down.

She quietly asks, “Nobody followed you? Did you use the agreed upon route? Were you… successful?”

I nod weakly, and she breathes out a breath of anxiety, seemingly lessening the weight on her shoulders. Indeed, I’m glad it’s over too…

Absolute mayhem has erupted in the court since the assassination, investigations were conducted, queries made, people put on trial and finally, executions. Not anyone of import has been convicted however, there was no evidence found to put a name to the schemer who hired the assassin.

During the last four days spent in recovery I couldn’t help falling into a melancholic reverie, I bloodied my hands again, and for what? To progress a friend’s ambitions? Or is it for my own selfish desires, to ride on her success and reach heights beyond what my birth allowed. “Fera? Hey Fera. Yoohoo.”

Turning towards Mila who was tending to me, I question, “Yes?”

She smiles cheekily, “Oh nothing, you just looked out of sorts, everything doing alright in that head of yours?”

I’ve been stuck with Mila since she’s someone I trust to keep a secret about my bloodied body, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what I was doing due to the nature of my wounds, I reply jokingly, “Apart from an illness I feel coming on from being stuck with you for so long, I’m fine thank you.”

She giggles, finishing up the application of medical ointment and bandaging, from my enhanced physique and liberal use of expensive potions, I’m now fit to leave the room without looking like a mummy. Seeking out Miranda, I visit her study, behind her desk she seems to be studiously writing up letters which I can only assume serve a diplomatic purpose, she is a main player in the side faction after all. She looks up and smiles happily, “Ah Fera, I’m glad you have improved, close the door, will you?”

Obliging, when the door shuts, she continues, “I have news that I can only feel ambivalent about, my father sent word that he is coming back to this estate from court in a week, he has no doubt figured out the conspirators of the assassination and wishes to talk with us.”

“I would’ve thought you would be more excited, he’s even visiting you, not the other way around.”

She shakes her head, explaining, “Not visiting, he own’s this estate, I’m merely borrowing it while residing in the capital. Anyway, it is exactly the fact that he is coming to us that has me worried, he has only ever requested an audience with me, so I can’t ascertain his thoughts, is he furious, delighted?”

I shrug my shoulders, saying, “You’re making an issue out of nothing, you’re so close to getting everything you ever wanted that you don’t know what to do with yourself, all I can say is relax, what’s done is done.”

She breathes out while sitting up straighter, saying, “Ha, that was surprisingly enlightening.”

Then asks rhetorically, “How old are you again?”

I smirk, answering anyway, “As old as I act.”

She chuckles lightly, “If only that meant anything, anyway, I’ve decided we do a minor celebration, just dinner here before my father arrives.”

My eyebrows perk up, “Oh, I look forward to it.”

We are sitting across from each other in the middle of a ridiculously long table, it feels odd having so much space on either side of myself. We were sitting silently, and I couldn’t help but feel awkward, is she expecting me to say something first? I blurt out, “You’re quiet tonight.”

She politely chuckles, remarking, “Mmm, you don’t seem to like silence.”

My eyebrows raise, stating, “Yeah sure, who does?”

She smiles, “Me?”

I lean back in my chair, cross my arms then snort, “Yeah I don’t think so, you’re one of those people who love to hear themselves jabber on.”

She chuckles, trying to stifle it as she covers her mouth, but she can’t help herself as she breaks into a full laughter, I stare at her questioningly, has she gone mad? Once she’s settled down, she explains, “I apologise, even after all this time, I’ve yet to grow used to your directness, an oddity for sure.”

I frown, saying, “Thanks but… I doubt I’m all that unique of a person.”

She shakes her head, “Oh but yes you are, a person of commoner birth treating me like some random on the street, it is incredibly fun, and I simply cannot explain it! Talking with you can be such a joy.”

I ponder for a moment, realising what she’s getting at, I empathise, “Goodness, you’ve never had a friend before me?”

She’s about to speak but our dinner arrives as servants rush in with trays filled with a mini feast, steak, vegetables and an assortment of other small foods, along with a bottle of, wine? As the food is dished out, I point at the wine bottle, “What’s that?”

Glancing at it, she says, “Oh this? It is just a bottle of wine we got from the cellar, I am not too keen on wine so I am not sure as to its origins.”

I nod, not like I’d care for its origins, what I do care for is the fact that alcohol has been presented before me, I mean sure I’m 10 years old, but this world doesn’t care for that. Reaching out I pour myself a glass, I feel the intensity of Miranda’s stare, “Yes yes, I know, ‘let the servants do it’, but the thing is, is I don’t care to wait for them.”

My response transforms her face to bewildered surprise, hah, that’s right, I can be assertive. Gulping down the wine, it has a sweet taste that instantly assaults the palate, then levels out to a weaker fruitiness, nice! I insist, “Miranda give the wine a taste, it’s splendid.”

She obliges but then her face sours a bit, “As I just told you, it is not my drink of preference.”

Laughing, I drink down another gulp, “When I met your brother, I noticed he was quite strong considering his age, what’s the deal with that?”

Her head flicks up, “Ah, he’s quite talented and was able to attend one of the best knight academies in the empire.”

Awed, I say, “Wow, clearly those academies mean business, honestly your brother are among the strongest people I’ve met, would it be possible for you to get me in? I don’t need to be a noble do I?”

Shaking her head, she answers, “No you don’t, and honestly you wouldn’t even need my assistance to get into one of the knight academies, your talents are exceptional and may very well be enough to get you into the imperial academy. All you would have to do is wait until you’re 13 to apply then pass their designated test. However, if you attended a knight academy, you naturally would be unable to go to a magical academy.”

My eyebrows raise, “That’s right, when we first came to Belra you did mention the mage academies, what would be my eligibility to one of those?”

She finishes chewing her piece of steak saying, “That depends on your inherent magic talent, however, should you have the talent to be a mage, it’s always suggested you attend a mage academy over a knight academy.”

I lean back casually while drinking for my wine glass, saying, “Because magic is stronger, or so I’ve heard, I’ve yet to see any spells to confirm that statement, where are all the mages anyway? I’ve only seen two actual mages, one in the merchant district, and obviously the countess Urela.”

She snags a slice of cheese from the middle of the table and devours it instantly, then explains, “Well you see, mages are only strong if they are trained, sure there are a few hedge mages here and there but they most learn small tricks, the real mages are either cooped up in an academy or wizard tower studying magic, or out at towns in adventuring teams hunting monsters, or they could merely be managing a business, crafting magical trinkets. There are even the mage families, such as the Feathersons who breed to maximise magical talent and hoard their own research. Basically, there are many mages around, you’re just not where they are.”

Enlightened I nod, while taking another sip of wine… empty? While refilling my glass I mention, “But when we passed by towns on the way to Belra I didn’t see a single mage.”

She bites into a roasted carrot, realising she doesn’t like it she just spits it into a handkerchief which she hands to a servant, acting like nothing happened she says, “Ah, that’s because the towns in this county only have low level creatures, the only mages who fight against such creatures are mage students from the mage academies who may do some light adventuring work, however since there are no mage academies in the county of Farok, there are no mage students.”

Taking another swig of the wine, my head already feeling fuzzy and not sure what to say, I ask, “So now that we’re basically best friends, I have to ask, what were your first thoughts when you saw me?”

After she takes swallows her small bite of food, she smirks, “To be frank, I felt intimidated, I could not help but feel weary when I first saw you.”

I laugh haughtily as I bang against the table, “Hahaha, that’s because I could’ve killed you where you stood, and no one could’ve done a thing about it!”

My statement seems to make the entire room halt to a standstill, I feel the stares of all the servants, Miranda regards me with weariness, but her face suddenly shifts to a good-natured smile as she politely chuckles, “Oh Fera, your jokes can get quite dark sometimes.”

Feeling that I fucked up, after pouring myself another glass I drink half the glass to take the edge off that monumental fuck up! My vison grows blurry, and my head begins to naturally sway, I shout, “Miranda!”

She nods hesitantly, “Yes?”

How does she not realise, this table is bloody ridiculous, so I tell her the obvious, “I fucking hate your table, like, it was good at first, but the longer I look at it, the more I realise how it separates us. How are we going to be best friends if I have to walk around this damn thing!”

I then gulp the rest of my glass, refill it and raise myself while carrying it, proceeding to climb up onto the table, skillfully stepping around my food and the candelabra. Hoping down, I drop right next to Miranda who is staring at me incredulously. I slump in the chair next to her, and take another quick swig of the delectable wine, explaining as I gesture towards the table, “You see? This thing no longer separates us, so now we can converse like normal people.”

I then lean closer to her, her head retracting like a scared chick, I say, “Ok you have to admit, Bennett is the sexiest husk of manliness I’ve seen in my wholleee life, and don’t tell me, that ya don’t think about himmm!”

Her face ignites in fire, I smile knowingly, “Hah, I knew it!”

She tries to defend herself, “I, I most certainly do not!”

I shake my head energetically, “Whatever you say, it doesn’t matter, your face tells me alllll I need to know.”

I grow grim in the ensuing silence, my thoughts left to wander. How much does Miranda truly value me? Does she only consider my abilities valuable to her, and once I outgrow my usefulness, I’ll be nothing to her. I don’t want that, I really don’t want that, what would I do, if she truly thought so little of me… Noticing my teary eyes Miranda leans over to me, asking, “Hey, Fera, What’s wrong?”

Without thought I fall into her arms sobbing “Please, please don’t leave me!”

She awkwardly tries to hold me in a hug, her hand touching my back, but her arms too hesitant to properly hold me in an embrace.

She loudly orders, “Everyone, leave!”

I hear a loud shuffling of steps, then nothing, just the slow steady heartbeat of Mirandas chest as I foolishly cling to her, I hear her quietly speak, “I’m not going to leave you Fera, I’ve only made it this far because of you, whatever happens we’ll be in it together, ok?”

I reply in a whisper, “Ok.”

After a few tranquil moments I feel a bout of drowsiness hit me, then my consciousness fades.

I awaken with a throbbing headache, and an unfortunately rather vivid recollection of last night’s events, I can’t help but cringe when thinking of what happened, I thought I was over stuff like that years ago, I suppose I was quite drunk. I cultivate for the rest of the day, too hungover to practice magic or do any physical exercise. Later that day Miranda knocks on the door then lets herself in, looking me over she asks, “Fera, how are you?”

I jump off my bed and answer, “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little hungover.”

Please don’t mention last night, she mentions last night, “So about last…”

I raise my hand to stop her, pleadingly saying, “Please, let’s not talk about it.”

Respecting my wishes, she subtly nods, saying, “Very well, to the reason I came here, I have called for a teacher on etiquette, your manners are… lacking, you won’t achieve much over a week, but you will at least be presentable before father, he is very particular on such things.”

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

She puts crosses her arms and snickers, “Heh, you were awful.”

“Bah, fine, this isn’t your room so get out,” I say as I wave her off, she wanders outside, lightly shutting the door behind her.

One week later after etiquette training, I am donning one of Miranda’s dresses, my hair done up in a ponytail and light makeup applied by one of the maids. Miranda and I are standing out the front of the estate as we watch the baron’s carriage draw near, the Verin crest apparent. The carriage draws to a stop in front of us, baron Maximilian and his eldest son and current heir step out from the carriage, I note that Maximilian is wearing black. They walk to us, and when they’re suitably close I properly bow, “Lord Boris Verin, Lord Maximilian Verin”

“Brother, father,” Miranda follows, with her expertly performed bow, Boris grins charmingly, “Sister.”

Miranda’s father is even more imposing while standing, not because of his width, but because of his height, standing at over 6 foot 2, his physique looks stringy, but contains a clear strength as can be implied from that light spring in his step, he likely focuses on agility. In terms of bearing, Boris is a downgrade in every way, a failed facsimile of the real thing, shorter, less jump to his step, and his eyes have a weaker intensity than his father’s piercing eyes that can be likened to a hawk.

“Very good, now let us head inside,” Maximilian say simply as he strides toward the entrance, we all follow suit.

We are currently seated at the stupidly long table, Maximilian sits at the head, Boris to his right and Miranda to his left, next to Miranda is me. As they converse about matters which don’t concern me, I can’t help but question the purpose of me being here. Maximillian directs his attention toward me for the first time, saying, “I admit Fera, I overlooked you when you first presented yourself before me, but now that I am able to look properly, I can see I was a fool to not see such an unpolished gem.”

I shift uncomfortably at the unexpected praise, I artificially say, “Thank you for the praise my lord.”

He smirks, saying nothing more to me as he turns to Miranda, stating, “Miranda, I have decided to rescind the marriage proposal, I have already sent the letter to the Felin’s side branch, it should arrive in the next month.”

Miranda tries to prevent a smile from breaking out on a face, “Thank you father, I am most grateful.”

He loudly claps twice, the sounds reverberating through the house, the servants begin to clear out as Maximilian sniggers, saying, “Now, let us discuss the reason I came here. My brother is distraught over the death of his wife, considering the nature of their marriage, this is a surprise, but a pleasant one regardless. I will begin a trip to the county of Malania to begin negotiations on support for the coup. Boris will be in charge of the barony while I’m gone.”

“Father! You can’t mean to give him full reign over me,” Miranda shouts as she lifts from her chair.

I replies without batting an eyelid, “I most certainly do, it is something you must learn to tolerate, I’m not going to live forever.”

Boris eyes Miranda while amused, a smug smirk drawn on his face, this guy is going to be our lord? While Maximilian is discussing the faction politics, I zone out, I notice Miranda has too, her eyes calculating as she looks somewhere beyond this conversation, suddenly her head jolts up and she asks, “Father, when do you plan on going to Malania?”

“Why in about a week.” He responds, Miranda nods but says nothing more.

Right after Maximillian and Boris depart, Miranda instantly drags me up to her room, she stares at me as her breathing goes ragged as she ambitiously states, “I know how to get everything.”

Bewildered, my eyes widen in surprise as I ask, “And how is that?”

“It’s simple, so simple,” she laughs haughtily, continuing, “My father will be mainly relying on the Feathersons to fight his brother, but I have a way for the Feathersons to support me instead of my father.”

I think it over, but as I’m not too sure on noble politics, it still goes over my head, so I remain silent as she continues, getting visibly animated beyond what I would expect of Miranda, “Legally the head of a house can change their family name to that of their mother or father, this is a very archaic law that is rarely used. Anyway, if I go under an illegal magical contract that will force me to change to the Featherson family name should I become count, they will support my claim for the county.”

“But you’re not the family head.” I ask eyeing her closely, half guessing at her intentions. She hesitates to respond, look around nervously as she tries to formulate a response but then just decides to say it outright, “Father… Will have to die…”

I nod half-heartedly, we were just having a conversation with him, and not 10 minutes later she can speak of plots to murder him, a chill runs up my spine. I lean closer to her face, studying it for any signs of madness, but no, she looks perfectly lucid, I sigh deeply, it’s not like I’m the one killing my own father, “Ugh fine, for you, but this is a little drastic even for me. I have one last question, is Boris not the heir, will he not become head of the house afterwards?”

She laughs heartily, an odd look compared with her usually composed demeanor, she explains, “Indeed, lawfully he would be house head, however he has no supporters, and supporters matter more than any rightful claim, I will have the 4 barons you brought under our fold, and I will have the Feathersons, what will Boris have? The remnants of the side faction? That will mostly implode should my father die. Boris has put in little effort to integrate himself into the faction, after all is said and done, I will be count Miranda Featherson.”

Smiling dreamily to herself I just find a seat and ponder on everything, did I just jump down a rabbit hole that will spell my demise, or did I just stumble across the luckiest break an orphan like me could find, a count as a direct supporter, even someone as unpolitical as me can understand the potential benefits. She’s merely 16 yet she can hold the weight of such conspiracies on her shoulders, what will she achieve in the future?

Not a moment later Miranda shouts, “Come! We must depart tonight, the sooner we leave the better, as you heard, father leaves in a week.”