Dane (1): The Assassin's Farewell
Planning your own death is hardly a pleasant affair. But contemplating where and how it will happen, and what meaning it will carry, naturally steels your resolve. Whether it ends up as mere suicide or a decision that alters the kingdom's fate—who knows? I'll find out once it's all over. The wind brushing against my black robe and the dagger tucked against my chest urged me onward. So, before launching this life-risking plan, what was the first thing I had to do?
"I'm quitting."
That was submitting my resignation to the resistance. "What are you talking about?" His voice trembled ever so slightly, like walking on thin ice, yet carried a deep, resonant weight. The middle-aged man staring at me exuded the aura of a true leader. His name was Philbert Raymond. He was the head of the resistance army, organized to stage a coup against the kingdom, and the one who had taken in and raised an orphan like me.
"I'm worn out too, boss. From now on, I just want to live a normal, honest life like any other young man."
"Has something big changed for you lately? Suddenly, what...?" Even for me, it wasn't easy saying this to a man like a father. No matter my intentions, it would only disappoint him. We used formal titles in public, but in private, I called him Uncle Philbert and we lived like family—that made the guilt even heavier.
"Think it over again, Dane. No matter what anyone says, you're... there's no assassin in the entire kingdom who can match you."
"I've thought it through plenty. This is my decision."
"Has your thirst for revenge against the kingdom faded? I told you, your parents..." I waved my hand to cut him off and interjected.
"It's not that my hatred for the kingdom has vanished."
"Then?"
"Just... haha, I'm a bit tired. Not many guys my age live like this. My hands are too stained with blood."
At that, even Uncle Philbert couldn't continue. Though he justified it as survival, he felt guilty for spotting my inexpressible talent and molding me into an assassin. No need for that—it was what I wanted, after all.
"Alright... if that's how it is... no helping it, then."
"Thank you for understanding."
"Get some real rest. I'll visit now and then."
"Sure, I'm planning to farm or something, so drop by whenever."
I gave him a smiling farewell and left the room. The dawn air felt unusually chilly today. Was it the massive trial looming ahead, or the countless regrets I'd left behind? Hard to say.
Farming, my ass. I chuckled at my own words. After all, I wasn't quitting the resistance to live as some ordinary rural youth my age. No, I was on the cusp of something several—no, dozens of times more dangerous than what I did now.
Can I pull it off?
I walked a few steps, confirmed no one was around, and gently drew the dagger I always carried. Strange ancient script etched on the blade. I slowly read the characters aloud, and one by one, they detached from the metal, taking form and floating in the air. Soon, they aligned into a sentence, and atop it, a faint map-like image appeared.
Yes, with this...
A few days earlier, I'd acquired this dagger inscribed with unreadable ancient script. I scoured everywhere to decipher it, finally forming the sentence and even witnessing the magic activate. The result was shocking.
'A map of secret passages beneath the royal capital. With this, I can infiltrate the palace undetected and take any head I want.'
This magic recorded a detailed map of unknown secret passages under the kingdom's capital. Like a mole's burrow, they led everywhere. Using them, even alone, I could slip past heavy guards into the palace unscathed.
Does the kingdom even know they exist?
At first, I couldn't believe such passages existed. Our group had fought for nearly twenty years without finding them, let alone dreaming of building any. But when I checked, they were real. Barely wide enough for one person, but perfect for assassination. I prepared thoroughly and tested it myself—slipped in, slit a soldier's throat, and escaped.
They really know nothing.
Like any army, one soldier's death was hushed up. But that one experience convinced me the kingdom was oblivious. If they knew, they'd have sealed it immediately—no action taken, no traps either.
With this, rebellion's a piece of cake.
Discovering the passages plunged me into thought. What if I shared the map and we all infiltrated together? But even a moment's reflection showed it was idiotic.
Impossible for dozens or hundreds through that narrow tunnel. And how do I know there are no traitors?
Harsh as it sounds, I didn't fully trust the entire resistance. We'd caught kingdom spies a few times, and we'd planted our own—par for the course. I considered telling Uncle Philbert and the top brass, but even that felt unwise.
This is something I have to do alone.
Assassination's always easier solo than in a team. Besides, I was confident I could outperform most even alone. As I said myself—Uncle called me the kingdom's best assassin earlier. Technically off; I'm the continent's best.
Anyway.
So I left the resistance. This assassination was my personal mission. Even if I took out the target, escape was impossible—I didn't want more sacrificial lambs. If Uncle Philbert caught on to my suicidal plan, he'd desperately try to stop me.
"Once I wipe them out, you'll handle the rest, right?" I murmured, gazing up at the resistance headquarters. Even without me, those inheriting my will would reform this rotten kingdom and usher in a new era. I wouldn't be there to see it, but preventing more orphans like me would fulfill my purpose. No regrets, really...
"...Ah."
I wanted to get married before dying. That was my one regret.
"Uncle?"
My wish to marry then die came true months later, in a slightly twisted way—and wildly off course.
"Yeah, long time no see. Dane."
"Uh... good to see you."
After leaving the resistance, I'd been busy every day. Even with the cheat-like secret passages under the capital, perfecting the assassination required tons of prep: rare tools, honing my skills to the limit.
Just here to check on me?
Uncle Philbert's visit genuinely surprised me. No letter, just showing up out of the blue. Nice to see him, but it made me anxious—had something happened to the resistance while I was gone? I hid my assassination gear and headed back to the door to let him in.
"You really are chilling in the countryside."
"Yeah. You found it just like I told you."
"Rough trip. We're swamped these days anyway. Why set up in such a backwater?"
"Well... I like the nature..."
"No women around here, huh? Heh. Since you're out, why not start a family?"
"Nah, family? Come on."
Like I'd make another orphan like me.
"So, what's the real reason you're here?"
"Just checking on the boy I raised."
"That's an excuse. What's with the kids behind you?"
"Sharp as ever, kid."
Only then did Uncle Philbert step over the threshold. Trailing him were three children huddled close together. Purple, gold, and white hair—every color under the sun. The gold and white ones looked early teens at most; the tiniest purple one maybe six.
"...Hi?"
As I awkwardly waved, the purple and gold kids charged like maniacs, latching onto my legs.
"Waaah!"
"Uncy no gooo!!"
"Y-You kids! A lady doesn't cling to strange men like that!!"
What the hell was this? My head was starting to hurt.