Assassin's Chronicle

Anfey wiped his bloody dagger on the man’s shirt. He stood up and walked towards where he had been watching from earlier.

As he rounded the corner, he saw another man hurrying toward him with a jug of wine in his hands. "Look," the man said, grinning proudly. "Look at this wine. Some of the best."

"It’s a bit murky, isn’t it?" Anfey asked.

"No way!" the man said. He raised the bottle to his eyes.

The bottle obscured his eyes, so he did not see Anfey making a move to slash his throat. He felt his body weakening, and when the bottle fell from his limp fingers, he looked at Anfey in confusion. He could not understand why Anfey would do something like that.

Anfey caught the bottle in his hand. He grabbed the man and lowered him to the ground, silent.

In the storage room, another man was cursing and rummaging through the room. Steaks were readily available to everyone, and didn’t seem to be available in this room.

Anfey pushed through the door and entered the storage room.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked.

"She didn’t want steaks anymore," Anfey said, shrugging. "Asking for turkey this time."

"Where am I supposed to find that?" the man asked.

"What can I say? She’s picky. Just try and look for it. Something is better than nothing."

"Goddammit," the man cursed. "Wait. Help me look for it."

Anfey nodded and began flipping through things on the shelf. Soon he stumbled across the steak the other man was looking for.

"Isn’t this steak?"

"You found it?" the man moved over and asked. "It’s raw, though," he said.

"I’ll go cook it," Anfey said. He handed the man a packet of loose powder. "Don’t let her see this," he said.

"Don’t worry," the man said. He accepted the powder. "Is it powerful?"

"Of course," Anfey said, grinning. "Very much so."

The man smirked and nodded. He hid the power packet in his left hand and left the storage room.

As he walked past Anfey, he saw a silvery flash out of the corner of his eye. He was the highest ranking man under Orwell, just after Orwell himself, and was a junior swordsman. Anfey’s movement was sudden and fast, and he was distracted, but he was still able to grab the dagger.

Anfey’s wrist twisted, and left the dagger partially in the man. He took out the manticore’s sting and stabbed the man in the face with it.

Before the man could summon his combat power, his body had already frozen in place. Anfey removed the tail and pierced the man’s throat with his dagger. The man fell to the ground limply.

Anfey walked out of the storage room calmly. Once outside, he saw Suzanna’s angry face.

"You were going to drug me?" she asked.

"It’s an act, Suzanna," Anfey said. "Don’t take it personally."

"You can’t just try to drug me!"

"Alright, alright," Anfey said. "I’m sorry, alright? Let’s take care of that guy upstairs first."

Suzanna snorted and turned her eyes away.

Anfey took out a piece of black cloth and hid his face behind it. He then handed one to Suzanna, who looked at him curiously.

"If you don’t want to kill every witness, you better wear that," Anfey said. "Don’t forget, there’s an extraneous woman up there."

"Alright," Suzanna said. She tied the cloth around her face carefully. Anfey moved over and pulled a hood down over her hair. Her hair was too distinctive and should be hidden in case someone saw it and linked it back to her.

This move, purely out of concern for secrecy, seemed less innocent than it was. The two were close enough that, if someone was watching, they could be mistaken for a couple about to kiss.

Anfey had treated Suzanna as a friend, and so felt nothing. However, Suzanna felt slightly uncomfortable. Whenever Anfey breathe on her, she felt a strange sensation in her stomach. However, she did not say anything.

"Alright." Anfey took a step back and looked at her.

The two ascended the stairs carefully, avoiding any unnecessary sounds. There were only four rooms, and Orwell didn’t care who heard him.

"Please," a woman’s voice said. "My husband will kill me."

Orwell laughed. He didn’t care if the woman’s husband would murder her. He knew that the husband didn’t have enough power to come after him.

"Stop!" the woman cried. It was too late. Her refusal meant nothing to Orwell.

Anfey stood quietly by the door and waited. Next to him, Suzanna was flushed red, and her breath was getting heavy. Scenes like this did not have an effect on Anfey, but they did on Suzanna. If she wasn’t on a mission, she would likely have fled the scene.

The woman’s moans were getting louder. Orwell’s movement was clearly getting faster as well, evident from the creaking bed frame.

Suzanna turned to Anfey. Seeing that he was unaffected, she turned back and decided to endure. Her hands were slightly shaking, however, because it was all too much for someone like her to take in.

Finally, Orwell groaned loudly. Anfey kicked open the door and hurried inside. He then jumped into the air and lunged towards a shocked Orwell.

Orwell suddenly flipped and placed the woman on top of him as a shield. Anfey moved his wrist, and avoided the woman. His dagger made a deep cut on the left side of Orwell’s face.

Orwell yelped in pain. He threw the woman at Anfey and reached for his longsword. Just then, Suzanna dashed into the room. Her sword, coated in white combat power, aimed straight at Orwell’s chest. However, she was stunned by his nakedness, and her aim was slightly off. Her sword only caught him in his abdomen.

Anfey jumped upwards and around the woman. Then he held out his dagger and jumped towards Orwell. Because of his wound, Orwell was slower than he otherwise would have been. His fingers had only found his sword when the dagger pierced his wrist. Even though Orwell had used his combat power, it was too weak and couldn’t shield him from that level of attack. The dagger left a deep wound on his wrist, severing even one of his wrist bones.

Anfey blinked in surprised. If it was a normal man, the whole hand would have been severed from the body.

Orwell screamed in pain. His right wrist was severely damaged, and he had no more strength left to draw his sword. In a moment of panic he swung his left fist at his attacker. However, he was in too much pain to properly fight. Anfey avoided his attack easily and buried his dagger in Orwell’s neck. Suzanna stabbed him in the chest hard with her sword. The sword went through Orwell’s body and nailed him to the bed.

Orwell’s body twitched a few times, then his head rolled to the side. Blood dripped down from the side of his mouth, and then he was still.