Shawn opened the spellbook and read it page by page, immersed in an ocean of knowledge and unable to tear himself away. He had no idea that a bandit with a red veil over her face had set her sights on him.
Blade was a professional rogue who focused on assassination, one of the three specializations alongside combat and subtlety. In other words, he was what people called an "assassin."
Blade was a professional assassin. Although he belonged to the Defias Brotherhood, he was different from its veteran members. He hadn't transferred over from the "Stormwind City Stonemasons," so he didn't have a hodgepodge of other skills. All he knew was assassination. That was exactly why his assassination skills were so refined, and why he had such an impressive record.
For example, three years ago, he assassinated an old man in Moonbrook. The man had spent eighteen years wandering abroad before finally returning home, only to find Moonbrook occupied by the Defias Brotherhood and the Undead. He was white-haired and stooped with age.
For example, a year ago, he assassinated a lost five-year-old boy in a clearing by the woods. The child had even asked him for candy. He'd been adorably stupid.
For example, half a month ago, he assassinated a pig at a farm in southern Elwynn Forest. Not only had the fat woman in her forties who owned the farm chased him down and beaten him, but the sow she kept had hunted him for half a month.
Yes, Blade had been hunted by that pig for half a month.
Heaven knew, although he was a professional assassin, he was short and slender. Compared to that hateful pig, he was practically adorably weak!
An assassin had three great qualities: a masked face, a soft body, and an easy time getting knocked down...
Whenever Blade remembered that pig's size, he felt like a country bumpkin who'd never seen the world.
But you couldn't really blame him.
Had you ever seen a sow five feet tall and weighing over eight hundred pounds? And the key thing was, this sow wasn't the Boar King. She was domesticated. Domesticated. Domesticated...
And that pig even had an unbelievably cute name: "Princess"!
On that dark and windy night, the hateful fat woman bellowed, louder than a lioness in Stranglethorn Vale: "Princess! Gore him to death!"
And then Blade could only flee for his life.
The black-muzzled, yellow-haired, tusked, fearsome domesticated sow called "Princess" had become the nightmare of Blade's life.
He'd been running for half a month already, and still hadn't managed to escape that domesticated sow. If he stayed in one place for more than half an hour, she could definitely catch his scent and come after him.
Who knew where that sow got all that energy? Could the pig he'd assassinated have been the domesticated sow's sweetheart?
Whenever he thought of the skinny body of the boar he'd assassinated and the enormous bulk of the domesticated sow, Blade couldn't help feeling sorry for the boar.
He mourned for three seconds.
Because three seconds later, Blade's eyes lit up.
In the distance, he spotted two people on two horses, slowly approaching along the road.
One of the horses carried a middle-aged man who looked somewhat familiar. With five years of professional experience, Blade could tell at a glance that the man was one of his kind. He wasn't an assassin, but he was definitely engaged in another rogue's line of work: thievery.
A fellow professional!
Blade was moved to tears.
After half a month, he'd finally run into a fellow professional!
But why could that fellow ride around on a white horse while he had to be hunted by a domesticated sow?
It was so unfair!
Blade burst into tears, soaking his clothes.
Then he saw the rider on the other horse: a boy of fourteen or fifteen. His ears were a little pointed, and his build a little frail, but he was definitely a boy of fourteen or fifteen.
Wait, a boy of fourteen or fifteen, and frail, too...
And he was reading a book. Reading meant he was distracted...
Most importantly, he was riding a white horse...
A white horse...
A white horse!
Blade shuddered from head to toe.
A heaven-sent opportunity!
If he could just steal that white horse, he could ride off at full gallop and enjoy all the pleasures of life... That hateful domesticated wild boar couldn't possibly outrun a horse, could she?
She definitely couldn't!
Blade was so happy he could die. Heaven still had his back.
Blade tightened his grip on the dagger in his hand.
An assassin, of course, needed a dagger.
The dagger was the most valuable thing Blade owned. He'd spent all his savings buying it from some unscrupulous thief, who'd even been wearing a mask at the time...
Come to think of it, why did that unscrupulous thief look a little like the middle-aged thief riding the white horse?
All right, back to the point.
The dagger was very sharp, but Blade didn't plan to use it. When stealing a horse, the best and most suitable skill wasn't killing someone with a single strike. It was Kick. Kick. Kick...
Blade waited for his chance, then suddenly sprang up and kicked the boy!
Shawn was distracted.
Immersed in the profound knowledge of the spellbook, he was completely lost in thought.
And then Blade's most dazzling kick landed squarely on Shawn, sending the frail boy flying. Blade made a graceful leap into the saddle, clamped his legs around the white horse, and let out a loud cry. The horse galloped away.
Luckily, Blade hadn't chosen assassination. Otherwise, our transmigrator could have bitten the dust, and this book could have ended right there...
Luckily, Shawn had eight points of stamina, so aside from a little soreness in his chest and some dirt on his clothes, he wasn't hurt.
He got up, dusted himself off, and flew into a rage.
Seriously, he was Shawn, the Commander-in-Chief of Space Garrison. How could he let some petty thief steal his white horse? Absolutely not!
Shawn reached out and summoned his staff, then began casting.
Arcane Missiles!
Perhaps because his rage had reached a hundred, the Arcane Missiles he channeled this time were noticeably twice as large as before.
A fist-sized Arcane Missile shot toward Blade.
However, the white horse was too fast, and Shawn was too slow to react. By the time he'd finished channeling the Arcane Missile, the horse had already raced more than thirty meters away. Could the Arcane Missile still catch up?
It couldn't!
But just then, a pig's squeal suddenly rang out, deafening as a bolt from the blue, like a mountain collapsing, like the Mount Hyjal wisps blowing up Archimonde, like the great explosion of the Well of Eternity in ancient times...
BOOM!
A towering, mighty sow stood in the middle of the road, glaring furiously at the white horse and Blade on its back before letting out an angry roar.
The white horse was so frightened by the domesticated sow that it stopped dead in its tracks. Shawn would swear the horse had never been this obedient the entire journey.
Blade, his wits scared out of him, nearly fell off the horse. Luckily, he grabbed the reins just in time and ended up hanging over the horse's neck... Still alive.
Blade was completely dumbfounded.
That domesticated sow again! She was haunting him! This was too much! What had he done to deserve this? Half a month of chasing wasn't enough? Please, ma'am, let me go!
Blade scrambled back into the saddle and urged the white horse to run.
He didn't need to tell it. The white horse knew to run. In its brief life, it had never encountered anything so terrifying as... a domesticated sow.
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