The Assassin's Guild
After slipping out of the slave trader’s shop, I made my way through the back alleys toward the Assassin’s Guild he had sketched on a rough map.
Of course, the red-haired, arrogant little brat of a hatchling was right there with me.
How a hatchling of the dragons—the strongest race in existence—had ended up in the hands of those pathetic slave traders, I had no idea. With that cocky attitude of hers, it was a wonder she had survived this long at all.
Tug. Tug.
While I was still cursing the absurdity of the whole situation under my breath, the hatchling grabbed my hand and yanked.
“What?”
“Hand it over.”
She thrust one small palm straight out at me, fingers spread, as if demanding something on the spot.
“Hand what over?”
“The money you got from that pig of a human earlier.”
“And why would I give that to you?”
“Because… you got it because of me.”
She glared up at me again, eyes wide and blazing.
“That money was the fee for taking you home. Why would I hand it over?”
“Give it. I’m not going home.”
“You’re not going home…?”
“I’ve gone independent.”
A hatchling was supposed to remain under the protection of its parent dragons until it became a fully grown adult. And yet here she was, announcing her independence to me.
“So you ran away from home.”
“I did not run away! I went independent!”
The word “ran away” only made her more furious; she looked ready to leap at me as she snapped back.
“You really want it?”
“Yes! Give it! It was mine to begin with!”
“Fine.”
I opened my magic pouch, pulled out the money bag the slave trader had given me, and set it down right in front of the hatchling.
“Then I’m leaving. Next time, try not to get caught by slave traders.”
Part of me was curious how that tiny body planned to haul a sack holding ten thousand gold coins, but I had far too many other things to deal with. I left the hatchling and the money bag standing in the middle of the alley and started to walk away for real.
Right now I needed to investigate the magic sword, find a way to hear the goddess’s answer, and on top of that there was still the mess with the Hero’s party. My plate was overflowing. Looking after some brat simply was not on the list.
“Urrgh! Nngh!!”
A moment later…
The hatchling’s strained voice snagged my departing footsteps.
“Urrrgh!! Nngh!!”
I stopped and looked back. There she was, straining and grunting as she tried to drag the heavy money bag—something even an adult would struggle with—across the ground.
“You sure you don’t need my help?”
“Hah… I don’t need it! Would a great race like me ever ask for help from a lowly elf?”
“Got it. Then goodbye for real.”
I asked once more just in case, then turned to leave for good…
“I-if you absolutely insist on helping… I-I’ll specially allow it.”
The moment she thought I might actually walk away, she flipped her words without missing a beat.
In the end I changed direction and walked back to her.
“All right. How exactly am I supposed to help, Miss Hatchling?”
“I-I’ll permit you to stay by my side.”
“No need for permission. A lowly elf like me hanging around would only lower a dragon’s dignity, wouldn’t it?”
I tossed every insult she had thrown at me straight back at her. The more she heard, the more flustered her face became, until she looked ready to burst into tears.
“F-fine! Then I’ll pay you! H-how much do you need?”
“Exactly half. Five thousand for me, five thousand for you. In exchange I’ll let you tag along. And if you want, I’ll even take you home.”
“I-I’m not going home!”
Her face had started to brighten at the idea of tagging along, but the word “home” made her scowl again and refuse with all her might.
“Fine. I won’t send you home. But you have to stay quiet and follow me.”
“O… okay.”
“I’ll hold onto the money for now, yes?”
“Y… yeah…”
When I tucked the money bag back into my magic pouch, the hatchling watched it disappear with a look of pure longing.
“We’ll make a quick stop first, then go buy you some clothes.”
I had no idea how long the slave traders had kept her, but the rag-like clothes she was wearing bothered me. At my words she flapped the filthy fabric and examined herself left and right.
“Where are we going right now?”
“You’ll see when we get there, Miss Hatchling.”
“Calias.”
“What?”
“My name isn’t Hatchling. It’s Ca-li-as.”
She trotted along beside me, enunciating every syllable of her name with perfect clarity.
“Just call me Kali.”
“All right. Kali.”
Watching her follow me with bright, sparkling eyes so different from before, I couldn’t help the soft smile that slipped out. Worried the walk might be hard on her short legs, I held out my hand. She grumbled under her breath, yet this time she grabbed it tightly and walked along in comfort.
When we reached the Assassin’s Guild the slave trader had described, sure enough there stood an inn that looked every bit the part of an assassin den…
A sign proclaimed it an inn, yet the building itself looked ready to collapse at any moment, like the witch’s house from a fairy tale. To make matters worse, no sunlight reached the place, leaving it steeped in perpetual gloom.
Creak.
Squeeeak—
Inside, not a single guest was in sight. Only the innkeeper stood alone behind the counter, staring fixedly at the doorway where I stood.
“Um… I came to ask about something.”
“We’re closed.”
“No, I just have one quick question.”
“We’re closed.”
I had planned to casually ask about the magic sword that held black mana, but the man seemed more interested in repeating his own words and shoving me back out the door than listening to anything I said.
Bang!
In a flash of irritation I yanked the magic sword I had taken from those thugs last time out of my pouch and slammed it down on the table.
The innkeeper glanced at my face a few times, then deliberately ignored me and went back to what he had been doing.
Tug. Tug.
Just as I was about to try speaking to him again, Kali pulled on my hand. When I turned, she was pointing a finger straight up at the ceiling…
Whoosh!
Clang!!!
The instant my eyes followed her finger, two daggers came flying straight at me. Thank the gods I had left the magic sword on the table; another second and those blades would have cut me clean in half.
I barely blocked the surprise attack and drew a single breath before the second wave came.
Slash! Clang!! Swish—Clang!!
The attacker closed inside my reach with a dagger in each hand, swinging them as if intent on carving me to pieces. Her face was hidden behind a mask, and the dim light inside the inn made identification impossible, but anyone who could rattle me this thoroughly was no ordinary fighter.
“Huuuu. Hold on a second.”
I abandoned any thought of counterattacking and first put some distance between us. After the ambush I set down the temporary magic sword and drew the rapier at my waist instead.
With the old Hero’s heavily muscled body I might have managed, but now—soft, feminine High Elf muscles without a scrap of that hard strength—wielding the heavy magic sword in a real fight was pure burden.
Only after switching to the rapier, half the weight, did my hands finally move the way I wanted them to. Now I could at least put up a proper fight…
Whoosh!
Clang!
The masked woman couldn’t wait even that long; she flung one dagger at me. I casually swept the rapier and knocked it aside.
But that was a feint.
While I was busy batting away the thrown dagger, she closed the gap with the remaining blade, aiming for the opening I had left.
And then…
Papapapapap!
She lashed out with terrifying speed, yet I was every bit as confident in raw velocity. Our blades and hands vanished into a pure contest of speed that seemed to forget the passage of time. The more I read her attack patterns, the more the advantage tilted my way.
Thrust!
Driven steadily backward by my rapier, she finally lost her grip on the last dagger to my finishing strike. My blade came to rest at her throat for the final flourish.
“Enough!”
At that moment the door behind the counter opened and someone stepped out, shouting toward me.
“That will be quite enough, Lady Lowell of the Hero’s party. Rain, you will sheathe your blades as well.”
A man whose face was hidden by a black hood approached, then pulled the hood back to reveal himself. At his command the masked woman tucked her daggers into her belt and moved behind him.
“Forgive the late introduction. I am Roman, guild master of this Assassin’s Guild.”
He offered his hand. Only then did I lower my sword and accept the handshake.
“I must apologize for the rudeness of our first meeting. It has been so long since Rain last met one of her own kind—she seems to have gotten a little… excited.”
“One of her own kind…?”
There was only one race ever called the long-lost kin of the elves.
The Dark Elves, driven into the shadows by a single ancient mistake.
As if to prove the conclusion already forming in my mind, the masked woman lowered her covering and showed me her face. The same pointed ears and slender features as mine appeared.
No wonder…
There had been killing intent riding those daggers…
Elves and Dark Elves—especially High Elves—were mortal enemies. It was the High Elves of today who had forced the Dark Elves into the underworld in the first place.
“No need to keep standing here. Please, come inside. It seems you have something you wish to discuss with me…”
Guild Master Roman swung the door behind the counter wide open and gestured me through. I took Kali’s hand—she had been left at a safe distance during the fight—and stepped into the room.