Bessina walked toward the outskirts of the town. As the neighborhood started to look more and more meager, a frown deepened on her face.

  Is this really the right place? she wondered.

  Finally, she reached the address she had been given, and knocked unsurely on the door of a large house. There was an awful din of metal banging against metal that mostly drowned her attempts, but after a few proper kicks on the wood, the clamor stopped.

  A dirty-faced little girl answered the door. She stared at Bessina, who stared back for a second before speaking.

  "Ahem. I must have the wrong address."

  "Alright," the girl closed the door.

  Bessina asked around at the nearby businesses before coming back to the very same door.

  "Ahem. It looks like I had the correct address after all," she explained, slightly red-faced.

  "If ya say so," the girl replied.

  Bessina stared. A pair of bright green eyes stared right back.

  "I don't suppose Magister Will is at home?"

  "The Owner? I don't know where his home is."

  Bessina felt some relief.

  "Of course. Can you give a message to him?"

  "When he comes back, sure."

  Will checked in at the shop several hours later.

  "They produced fifty sheets of steel today," Jenna reported to him. "Also, a highborn woman was looking for you."

  "Hmm? Who?"

  "Dunno. She only told me to give this to you." The girl handed over a little piece of paper.

  Will read it, and the smile on his face fell.

  "The King's court? Fuck me..."

  Will couldn't refuse the summons and keep what he had accumulated for himself in this country, so he chose to obey.

  The court was basically empty when he arrived.

  "Everyone, out!!!" The king bellowed, and the grand hall became even emptier.

  Only an armored guard and an old robed man remained by the king's side while Will and two other mages remained standing at the foot of the regent's throne and its tall pedestal.

  "Sixtus, you said the new Magister is strong," the King began when the doors to the hall closed behind the last of the courtiers.

  "Aye, Your Majesty. His spells hit the monster at least twice as hard as mine."

  "Excellent, excellent. Sixtus, you may leave as well."

  The older magister left after offering a deep bow.

  "Now," the king spoke to the two remaining guests. "What I'm about to tell you must not be spoken of with anyone else."

  The mages murmured their assent before the king continued.

  "You're about to meet someone who doesn't officially exist. Allen!"

  A modest door opened at the side of the court, and a nondescript man walked in. He wore some dark grey clothes that looked simple and practical, but they were immaculately clean and the fabrics looked brand new. All in all, he looked like a peasant dressed up for a new job.

  "This is my spymaster. You will only be referring to him as 'Allen'."

  "G'day, sirs," the newcomer spoke and gave the guests a curt nod.

  "Allen, your new assets. Here, a new, promising magister named Will," the king made a casual gesture toward Will. "As for High Mage Septimus, you may have heard of him. He owes us some special services."

  "Can they stomach the job?"

  "Septimus surely can. As for the newbie? Who knows?"

  "Uh, if I may?" Will began. "What kind of a job?"

  "That, young man, is something you only need to hear if we deem you useful," the king answered him readily.

  "I understand, Your Majesty."

  "Now, what you'll hear from Allen is something you'll not only keep to yourself, but you need to understand that you'll be hunted down as traitors if you speak of it to anyone."

  Will raised his eyebrows.

  "If that upsets you, I suggest you take your leave now."

  "No, sir. I can keep my mouth shut."

  "Good. While Allen's existence is more of an open secret, your mission will be extremely sensitive. Say, how do you stomach killing people?"

  "Uh. I have killed in war, Your Majesty," Will answered, feeling a little uncertain about where the discussion was going.

  "Yes. Can you kill innocents?"

  Will frowned as he thought.

  "Like children or peasants minding their own simple business? No thanks. As for clueless peasants who have had the misfortune of being drafted? Yeah, I have no doubt that I've killed a few."

  "A timid answer," the king judged him with a knowing nod. "Still, it's good enough for today."

  "Allen," the king turned to his spymaster, who perked up. "You'll use them as you need. And remember, don't let me hear a single name or detail related to what they'll be doing!"

  The average-looking man nodded.

  "I know, Your Majesty."

  Will raised an eyebrow as he looked at the two men who previously spoke, but he chose not to comment.

  'Allen' gestured at the two guests to follow and led them through the unassuming door into a long corridor and finally through a locked wooden door.

  They walked a staircase two floors down, and after another locked door, ended up in what looked like a merchant's living room.

  There were cushioned seats and small tables in front of them, as well as some simple, decorative paintings on the walls.

  Allen sat on one of the chairs, as did the high mage. Will followed their example.

  "So, who needs to die this time?" Septimus asked.

  Allen stared at the middle-aged mage for a couple of seconds before answering.

  "Duke Torell's heir."

  "Hmh. Makes sense. Wouldn't want that wastrel inheriting a duchy, now would we?"

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  "Mister Allen, I hope you realize that I have absolutely zero experience with assassinations," Will asked.

  "Really? I was led to believe I would get two stealth experts."

  "I have a way to act stealthily, yes, but that's about it," Will lied. He had several ways to be stealthy, but there was no reason to reveal his life-saving methods with useless boasts.

  "Well, you come with high recommendations, so I'm certain you'll do fine."

  Will opened his mouth to grumble some more about the unreasonableness of the request but changed his mind when he thought of something else.

  "What's the pay?"

  "For you, I'm prepared to put out a hundred gold provided the mission succeeds."

  "Oh? Oh... I guess I can only do my best."

  "Mmm. You are to assist High Mage Septimus. Despite his infamy, Tor Torell is loved by his father and has been assigned a retired grand knight as an attendant."

  "I'm not all that familiar with these titles. How strong is a grand knight?"

  The spymaster blinked at the question.

  "A grand knight is equal to a high mage in rank. As for strength? I guess a high mage is much stronger in a way, but that's only if he can dictate the fight."

  The explanation made some sense. A mage could be butchered by a peasant with a pitchfork if he wasn't sitting safely in the back line.

  "Why send mages as assassins anyway? Surely, there are proper assassins available?"

  "Hmph," Septimus chose to interject with a disdainful harrumph. "A suitably trained mage is obviously the best kind of assassin."

  "Umm... if you say so?"

  "I can hide with my magic; I can strike with a massive spell from the shadows. Those are the essential requirements," the older man explained.

  "Surely you should be able to deduce this much?" Septimus went on. "You should know chameleon magic. I was also told you have a spell with tier five striking power. Those two facts make you a prospective assassin. Obviously!"

  "I see, I guess," Will conceded. "How do you know I have a strong spell?"

  "Do you regularly take others for fools? The reports of your fight against an unknown monster the other day mention you using two remarkably strong spells, while you only reported using one spellstone."

  "Oh... That's right. My bad." I guess I was seen through by that old man after all.

  Will had hoped that the fifth-level Vampiric Drain had gone unnoticed given how the gorgon had already been half-dead and how relatively unimpressive the spell was visually.

  In ASA, Septimus would probably represent some kind of prestige class. Assassin mages weren't particularly common, but they weren't a totally foreign concept either.

  "In any case, Magister Will is to provide backup or distraction, depending on how the situation develops," Allen explained. "I expect High Mage Septimus to perform the critical deed."

  The older man nodded.

  "Naturally. The boy can sit back and watch for all I care."

  "Now, now. Let's not dismiss the talented Magister's ability to contribute. I have a preliminary plan outlined..."

  A few days passed.

  Will and Septimus traveled further north, and the winter grew even milder. Only the fallen, rotting leaves and the dormant, brown grass served as evidence that the landscape hadn't enjoyed the proper warmth of summer for several months.

  "So, are you ready to come clean?" Septimus demanded. "Is the desiccation spell truly your own? Or was it the fire spell?"

  Will sighed. He had used Inferno Arrows in order to soften the gorgon up. That one had really been pretty spectacular, even if it was just a 3rd-level spell.

  "The desiccation spell was mine," he divulged.

  Septimus nodded, making Will feel even more like the man had already known.

  Ah well, there's also a 3rd-level version of the same spell in my book. I'll just use that one if they need me to.

  As long as he only displayed third-level firepower from now on (or whatever tier the locals called it), he wouldn't be leaking any critical secrets.

  "Good. It seems to only work at a very short range?"

  "Correct," Will confirmed. "I need to touch the target for it to have any effect at all."

  "That's acceptable given how quickly you can cast it."

  That was another unfortunate discrepancy to his infamy as a slow caster.

  "I can only do it once," Will warned. "Twice, if you let me prepare well beforehand, but it's going to take a lot out of me."

  Will didn't feel like that was even a lie. Spending two 3rd-level slots for some random job was really pretty generous of him.

  Septimus nodded in thought.

  "Once should be plenty enough. I'm thinking you take out the heir."

  "What? I thought that was explicitly defined as your job?"

  Septimus shook his head.

  "My first and foremost job is to make sure we succeed. I should go after the grand knight bodyguard. Once he is out of the picture, we can take our time finishing the job."

  "I see. Fine."

  "If I fail for some unforeseen reason, perhaps you'll have killed the heir anyway, and we can retreat with the mission successfully completed."

  Will nodded.

  "That seems likely."

  He really didn't doubt his ability to put down some squishy noble. He wouldn't even have any qualms about it after hearing that the man had strangled a prostitute to death over some perceived insult.

  (Even if it was just some rumor used to smear him, Will reckoned that the guy was probably an asshole anyway to be hated all the way in the South.)

  The chill of the northern night still had some bite to it. Will redid the black scarf around his face to not only cover his features but also block the cold wind assailing his neck.

  "That's them. Let's go!" Septimus whispered next to him after several dozen minutes' wait near a local whorehouse.

  Septimus turned semi-transparent after ten seconds of casting. Will glanced at him jealously as he spent three times longer to cast his own 2nd-level spell.

  The two blurry forms snuck through a back door into the whorehouse. Septimus blew out any nearby candles as he went forward, stopping occasionally to listen and make sure they weren't running into any occupants of the house.

  Will ignored the annoying fake moans and screams of pleasure he could hear passing by a few poorly soundproofed doors. He kept his eyes open for any movement.

  Septimus saw or heard something and pressed himself flush into a recess in the wall. Will quickly backtracked a little and crouched behind a big chair placed next to a relatively large glass-paned window.

  A middle-aged woman walked past them. She frowned and stopped to pick up a burning candle to relight one that Septimus had just put out. Other than that, she didn't seem to notice anything amiss.

  The two men waited quietly until they were able to proceed once more.

  Soon, Septimus stopped behind a door and did a series of gestures before moving on to the next one, where he repeated the same gestures.

  Divination magic? Will wondered idly.

  It couldn't be a particularly good spell given how many times the man had to cast it to locate his target. Then again, the fact that he even could cast it so many times was a point in the favor of the local diviners.

  Finally, the man found what he was looking for and gestured at Will with some large hand motions he was able to decipher despite the older man's translucent form.

  I guess it's go-time! Will made an exaggeratedly eager gesture to signal that he was ready.

  Both men started to prepare some more magic, just like they had agreed previously.

  As expected, the more experienced assassin mage was ready first, and he turned his expectant gaze at Will, who was still casting his Arcane Armor and Swift Retreat spells from scratch in order to preserve his limited spell slots.

  Finally, he stilled and waited for his leader to start the gig.

  Septimus quietly pushed the handle and opened the door by a crack. From the intel they'd received, Will knew he would be peeking at something like a living room beyond the door, where Tor Torell would eat and indulge in some drinks before it was time to call the prostitutes in.

  Septimus cringed back slightly and pushed the door until it was almost closed. He turned to Will and gestured five times. Then he gave another "get ready to proceed" sign.

  Five people?!

  The ducal heir was known to sometimes invite another debaucher to drink with him, but to have three guests in addition to his bodyguard was pretty exceptional.

  Shouldn't we just try again later?! Will wanted to ask, but they hadn't decided on any signs for questions like that.

  The assassin mage was clearly getting ready to go again. Will sighed quietly, deciding to follow along.

  Whether it's one or four squishy nobles, it shouldn't make a big difference, he told himself.

  Septimus opened the door just a little and slipped in quietly. Will took his previous position to peek in, seeing the five people in the room.

  The three men and a woman were sitting down around a table, while the bodyguard was sitting in a chair placed in a dark corner. His attention seemed to be occupied by a short sword that he was cleaning with a piece of cloth.

  Nobody had their eyes on the door, so Will followed behind the other mage. He pulled at the door behind him but didn't close it fully, thus avoiding any unnecessary noise.

  Within the somewhat dimly lit room, he could rather easily make out a crouching, translucent man making slow progress alongside a wall, creeping closer to the bodyguard. Being able to see so much was enough to make him sweat, but then again, he already knew where to look, so it was probably fine. Maybe.

  Will put his doubts aside and started to slowly walk alongside a wall in the other direction, pausing after each step to make sure nobody was looking even remotely in his direction.

  While he still went on, he noticed Septimus wasn't moving anymore. He stood still more than a dozen feet from his target, but Will knew his heavy-hitting spell should be already effective at that distance.

  The same couldn't be said about the spell Will was supposed to use. He kept slowly creeping closer.

  He was supposed to be the support who would handle simple things like distractions, but that task had rotated right back to the older mage due to how Will just couldn't get close enough without being detected.

  He knew his limits and stopped in a dark spot some eight feet away from his sandy-haired target, who had his back toward Will. Another man could see him if he just momentarily lifted his eyes from the game of dice he was occupied with. Hopefully that wouldn't happen soon.

  Will glanced at Septimus, who was also pretty well hidden in his spot. He could only make out his orientation properly when the man took a stone from his pocket and whisked it at a glass window.

  The pane it hit shattered. One of the men sitting at the table jumped up while everyone else remained seated but turned around to stare at the commotion.

  Will didn't waste a moment and took a few quick steps to reach his target, uttering a couple of quiet words.

  Minor Vampiric Drain (III) triggered.

  The local duke's heir gasped before he started to dry up rapidly. He died within a second while Will felt a slightly uncomfortable rush of energy enter him through his extended hand.

  A second later, a brilliant red flash could be seen on the other side of the room, and the head of the man in the corner rolled off his shoulders, striking the floor with a thump.

  At this point, the one man who had stood up previously turned to face Septimus, and Will realized their error for the first time.

  The man had a furious scowl on his face. A face that perfectly matched the description of Tom Torell's bodyguard.

  The dead man who had been sitting in the corner had a similar, large build, but it was now clear that he had been someone else.