As I jumped down, I quickly, somewhat late, checked on the man's stats, noting that he had several over the (10) average I had set. His stamina was down to 82%, probably because of the running. As for the man's [Health] being at 90%, [Status Screen] showed several bruises and a head concussion, likely because of the fall.

The time between jump and landing hardly was more than a second, and yet I managed to think something, or said more rightly, to chastise myself for the stupidness of such, {Why I didn't drop a rock or something from [Inventory]? How will I climb back up?}

Have someone even attempted to land on someone else? Who knows. Yet, I can now say - a body isn't a good foothold!

Soft yet hard, such was my feeling as the soles of my boots landed on what should be the man's torso. A half-metallic half-squishy sound followed my landing, accompanied by a pained groan. Yet, I had no time to think or pay attention, the impact making my recently treated wound throb in pain and my feet failing to find support.

{Shit!} Close to falling, I managed to force my left leg to step back, finding the stones of the channel.

From that moment on, the events were so quick, and their conclusion so wrong that I am unsure of remembering them correctly even with [Perfect Memory] reviving them thoroughly.

The man moaned as I stood there, my right leg still on his chest. Then, he grew silent for a moment, and I felt his chest rising, {He's about to shout?!}. With this thought flashing in my mind, pushing away even the throbbing pain from my wound, I didn't think much. Indeed, I acted - in the only way I could.

*Swish*

The sound of a sword leaving its sheath.

*Swoosh*

The sound of a blade cutting through the air.

*Shplitch*

The sound of a blade cutting open a throat.

These three sounds, followed by the one of dripping blood, even now haunt my memories of that day, or night, events.

___

Who knows who the man was? Who knows if he was evil or not? Maybe he was only being forced to do someone's bidding? I can not lie about the questions surfacing in my mind as I observed the deed of no one else's but my hands.

As I can't lie, at least to myself, about the first thoughts in my mind, neither can I do about the later ones. The ones that surfaced as I further examined the man.

He was young, hardly some twenty years old. Judging from his leather armor and the spear that had escaped his hand, he was a soldier, guard, or another kind of warrior. With his skills already impressive, it is not farfetched that he could have gotten out of whatever stuff he was in and gotten to some position by mere force of arms. But indeed, who knows? I had reacted to his intent to shout, and my reaction had finished any dreams, hopes, and aspirations he may have had while alive.

___

Who knows for how long my somber thoughts filled my mind, but the next strong memory is of me pressing against the channel's wall, the [Magic Candle] hidden inside my [Inventory], not risking to spend time to turn it off.

These actions in response to footsteps coming from the same direction as the man I had just killed had come. The one I killed while he had no chance to defend himself and had no more reason than Aison's words. Or, in truth, my own desire for who knows what conclusion.

"You good?" From the dark came a whisper, and while I was hardly good at doing so in my current state, I recognized the voice as Aison's.

"Yes, and using my name would be fine." The understanding of why he didn't use my name came to me as I started to respond, thus the slightly strange wording.

"Thank the ten! I expected to deal with the three myself, but they turned out to be very good, and their leader - he managed to block me and win time enough for one of them to escape." Aison didn't bite back or anything, simply explaining before asking how I was and if I could come up.

Aison's question was a good one, as I myself wondered how to get out of the channel with my left arm injured and the wall slightly taller than me, about two meters.

Yet, while he confirmed that I did kill the escapee, and I took out the [Magic Candle], disguising the fact by waving my hand in the dark as if I shook it up, I got an idea. One offered up by Aison just a moment after light filled up the place.

***

Having pulled me out with the help of the two-meter spear of the man I had killed, Aison produced out a cloth from somewhere, obscuring the [Magic Candle] light.

"Like this, we should notice a stronger light source before we enter its range." He explained his actions right away, preempting any questions.

Yet, he wouldn't preempt the one in my mind, which I asked nearly right after being pulled out, "How did you know that there was someone nearby? I could have very well run off, and if I missed the escapee, the enemy could have gone straight for reinforcements."

"So you understood why I asked like that, huh?" Aison turned to me, half-smiling as he noticed my question was indeed one of pure curiosity, "As for your question, it's called [Detection]. While it shames me to admit it, I never showed much promise while learning it, unlike several others to train with me. But even at my current level, it still allows me to feel a living being from some steps away."

"Oh, something like the magic [Life Radar], huh?" After receiving a confirmation nod, I dropped the filters on [Status Screen] and confirmed he indeed held such skill, [Detection], at level 7.

I had already met the skill before, and a high level seemingly, allowed the owner to sense a living, conscious being for over a kilometer.

On a totally unrelated note, I also managed to glean all of Aison's skills. Along with the previously hidden because of the average I had set - before my first meeting with an unknown one, which I had changed later to reveal any I saw for the first time. Mostly, they were the always present economy and similar skills as any regular human would have, along with some of the martial ones he had not developed so much. But what did surprise me was one, [Runes], at a pretty significant 8th level.

This skill raised questions. Runes' knowledge was basically the ability to use them to create permanent, no mana required, magical effects when engraved on something. And from my knowledge, they were a path of Magic, and Aison was no mage. Not that I would ask at that moment, as my [Status Screen] would raise far more questions. And different from any other person I may meet, I was perfectly aware of the organization, and its backer, behind Aison.

Noticing I didn't plan to add or ask anything else, Aison changed topics, returning to our situation. Speaking out the cruel reality, "They were well-trained and held nothing to identify themselves, at least the two I fought against, so I suppose they are sell swords. Elite ones!" As I nodded, Aison followed up without much pause, "This only raises questions like who had money, contacts, and everything else required to hire them. I should add that no elites would heed the orders of a mere rich idiot, so the contacts should have been personal, blood-tested. Which obviously-" Here Aison stopped for a moment, regaining his breath from the long whispering tirade before continuing, "-raises the question of just who stands behind Eithne."

"I don't know what you expect me to say." I could only shrug here, but recalling the [Repeating the facts lead to truth] stuff from detective novels, added, "Gold and contacts mean someone like a noble or a prosperous merchant, but contacts tested in blood? With everyone, including the Viscount, as we knew before, leading their desired lives happily and ignorantly, only playing their roles in politics inside a pretty-much closed city?" As I stopped, I recalled another two facts, which I immediately added, "There is also the knowledge of the old waterway and the guards noticing nothing."

"I think the same, which leaves me three candidates, from which the three are nearly improbable." Aison responded a minute later, which we spent walking forwards to Eithne's [Mark].

"The Viscount, Gudea, and the Baron?" I immediately understood who he meant but had a thought of myself, one which I somehow thought to use to make my own disappearance and current employment story more believable (and indeed, what better way to give up the Baroness as my patron but to mix both words in a single phrase?), "What about my patron or the Baroness?"

"No, she's obviously out, or such a meeting would never happen." As he spoke these words, Aison's eyes grew wide, and he paled, even in the bare light of the suppressed [Magic Candle].

"Don't ask why I know them to be related. That can very well kill you." Noticing he had spoken more than he should, Aison tried to salvage the situation, but my [Perfect Memory], somewhat troubled by the events, suddenly revealed the truth.

While I had no idea, who had spoken up the name of the Baroness of [Lake Anear] before, not even my memory allowing me to recall the speaker, I still, at some point, learned that her name was Adonyah. Or, to be exact, Adonyah Spreng'Dar. Because of the ongoing events, like my wound and the deadly fight, as well as the stupid emotions and stuff I allowed myself to do or feel, I didn't connect the dots immediately, but now?

"That woman! She wasn't some random noble, but one sent by the Baroness Spreng'Dar, the holder of [Lake Anear]." By now, I had regained my mind enough to know what I was stating, as my words weren't a question - they were a statement. And they didn't reveal anything but a conclusion possible without having [Status Screen] or anything else, just one's capacity to think.

"...She was, but you should forget about that." Aison knew he failed to maintain the secrecy he himself enforced. So his words, after a significant pause, weren't anything but a warning.

"I will-" And I wasn't planning to fight him, not now, and hopefully not later. So I showed that I was ready to forget about the topic. I would say that and move on, "-yet, the Baron, Gudea, and even the Viscount. Neither had any reason to organize something like this. Not here or without their allies knowing, at least."

"You are right, as you were before. That's why I am worried! There shouldn't be any party, not of the interested ones, to do something using living people!" Aison's whisper broke into a low shout as he hinted, well, directly pointed to the fact of the disappearing girls.

{And yet, no matter who was behind all this, with the meeting between Eithne and who knows who from her family, wouldn't that mean that the Baroness, and even her ally, the Viscount, knew of this?!}

***

With our minds occupied with thoughts about who was behind the kidnappings and who could be powerful enough for them to pass, neither Aison nor I noticed how we had walked nearly a quarter of a step, about 400 meters. And we probably would continue for longer, if not stopped only by our suppressed [Magic Candle] light. The latter's scope overshadowed, encountering a brighter light coming from around the corner.

"Let's go, we need to find out the answers before the council ends, or the King may decide something while being misled!" For the first time, I heard Aison panic, his voice shaking as he half-whispered, half-exclaimed these words.

And while I had no desire to launch myself into another fight, the implications of what we talked about and everything that had happened weighed enough in my mind to ignore anything else.

***

I held neither desire nor the will to resort to stealth, and judging from Aison stepping ahead of me into the light and then around the corner - he harbored no such emotions either. And the result of such an approach? Two men who would shout in alarm, launching themselves at us right away, not asking or waiting for introductions.

"You take out the left one." Pushing me towards the wall, as he took the edge of the pathway, Aison commanded.

{You take the easiest one?!} I admit that I was somewhat, no, very biased as I complained. Neither opponent had skills to write home about (well Aison's was a bit above, actually) or anything special (except for Aison's guy having a bounty and a criminal title!), and Aison was taking the ledge, channel, side.

Mine, a youth of hardly twenty years, a head lower than me, armed with a polearm resembling a bill.

NAME (As I see it) LEVEL (Hiding anything below average) Strength 11 Force 13 Quick 12 Slashing 11 Piercing 14

A man of about thirty years, who calmly walked up to Aison, his weapon, a hatchet-like ax, tucked into his belt.

NAME (As I see it) LEVEL (Hiding anything below average) Killer - Strength 13 Force 13 Close-Quarters 14 Feint 15 Assassin 11 Danger-Sense 12 Kingdom of Neverc Bounty 15

Yet, on the other hand, mine was armed with a pole weapon he had already thrusted towards the nearest arrival, me, while Aison's had his hands free, only an ax hanging on his belt.

The weapon (A local bill? Or something like one? The point of a spike above and a hook-like thing before stands.) was thrusting towards me with the sharp spike-like point, the hook-like part looking down, so it wasn't much different from a spear attack. During our training, Aison had not only explained but even attacked me several times with similar weapons, so I acted as he taught. As soon as I confirmed the central part of the weapon, the hook, was looking down, I jumped forward, closing in and slightly - how much I could without crashing into the wall - to the side.

Probably the opponent understood what I intended to do, as his weapon, held in his left arm, moved for the point to catch me, but he was slightly late. Nearly brushing the wall, I managed to avoid the attack, and before he could retrieve and turn it, wounding or at least catching me from behind with the hook, my right hand was already clasping on the pole, just beneath the actual weapon.

My higher, over 50%, [Strength] stat foiled any of his plans, and before the youngster, hardly an adult with his lack of hair and subtle constitution, managed to plan for anything else, I pulled the pole.

Showing his lack of experience (as if I have any! Hah!), he didn't let go of the pole and stepped forward, getting into striking distance. While my left arm, with the wounded shoulder and nearly brushing the wall, was hardly able to do anything, his step forward had given me enough space to release the pole and, with a quick, unexpected approach, grab him by the neck with my right.