The Assassin

"Damn it. We're the only ones who made it out."

Behind a low mound, the grim-faced orc captain glared at the three or four warriors around him, their leather armor and faces still marked with wounds and streaks of blood, and roared in fury.

"Captain, what do we do now? Most of the fighters in the tribe are gone. We can't explain this to the boss. When he finds out, he'll be furious enough to kill someone."

The orc warrior with an arrow through his knee snapped off the exposed shaft and tended to his wound, enduring the pain as he anxiously asked his captain.

"It's all that despicable, shameless, loathsome spellcaster's fault! If he hadn't suddenly attacked, we'd have wiped out those weak humans long ago!"

Remembering how the spellcaster's mirror image had tricked his tribesmen, then taken them out with a sneak attack from a Fireball, the orc ground his teeth in hatred.

And his friend, a battle-hardened rogue whom everyone in the tribe honored with the name Slaughterer, had been exposed by a Light Spell and killed without even knowing what hit him.

The thought only deepened the orc's grief and fury. He felt his friend deserved a better death. His bloodlust had surged, but with no outlet, he slammed the serrated greatsword in his hands into the ground and roared, "We'll rest here for an hour, then head back to the tribe and report to the boss. Tell the boys to come back and avenge us!"

The orc warriors had been exhausted after a night of running battles. They hadn't noticed amid the chaos of the battlefield, but now that they had escaped to safety and relaxed, sleepiness, hunger, and the pain of their wounds all came crashing down at once. They answered readily, then began tending to their injuries and eating.

In the cold darkness behind the mound, Ryan quietly hid nearby beneath the cover of night, watching the orc stragglers through a Spell Eye concealed in the air.

Perhaps because a full night of fighting had drained both the orcs and their worgs, the survivors had fled north under cover of darkness for no more than five or six miles before exhaustion forced them to stop behind a small, sheltered mound.

They thought they had come far enough that no human could—or would dare to—catch up with them in the pitch-black night.

Even the boldest and wisest orc, however, would never have guessed that a Mage was following them through the sky with Darkvision active.

Ryan glanced silently at the furious orc captain. Comparing the orc's lip movements with the system's "Complete Guide to Faerûnian Languages—Orcish—Lip-Reading Edition," he deciphered their conversation.

Seeing the orcs still cursing the despicable, shameless Mage, Ryan helplessly rubbed his high nose and muttered, "How can you call a Mage despicable? It's called playing it safe! That's why you orc brutes will never understand the beauty of magic."

After watching for a while longer, Ryan saw the resting orcs gradually let down their guard. He took a breath, began chanting toward the area where they had gathered, and cast the first-circle spell recorded in his spellbook: Sleep.

Ryan was very pleased with this spell. Though it was only a first-circle spell, both its area of effect and its ability to force its targets to sleep were impressive. It was especially effective against unwary targets. On countless sleepless nights, Ryan had relied on it to get some rest. It worked far more quickly than the melatonin or sleeping pills he'd used in his previous life.

The orc captain, who had been chewing on his rations, suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion. The fatigue from a night of fighting and the strain of his anger surged over him like a tide. He yawned widely. His eyelids could no longer stay open, and he thought he'd just rest for a moment. Then his eyes closed, and he fell into a deep sleep.

Ryan waited atop the mound until he was sure every orc was out cold. Only then did he slowly descend and approach the orcs sprawled on the ground.

He looked at the sleeping orcs and tilted his head, weighing his options for a moment. In the end, he decided it was better to use Fireball and erase all evidence.

The kindness and gentleness Ryan had inherited from his former life were still there, but he reserved them for those he cared about and loved. He had never been in the habit of going easy on his enemies. Back when he was trying to get used to this cruel, savage world, he had personally dissected the corpses of over a hundred kinds of monsters and nonhuman races. He had also killed countless Goblins with his own hands for practice.

Ryan understood that if he wanted to survive and grow stronger in this world, he had to learn how to kill, and how to be ruthless. Fortunately, Ryan had a mature worldview and a clear mind. Though his hands were stained with blood, he could still hold on to the person he had always been.

He sighed silently, then formed a spell model and used his mental power to draw in the ambient elements, filling it until a fist-sized fireball took shape.

It should be strong enough, Ryan estimated. Then he threw the fireball at the orcs behind him.

A tremendous boom erupted from the mound behind him. The sleeping orcs, never knowing what had happened, fell into eternal slumber and returned to Gruumsh's divine realm.

Ryan waited outside the blast radius, making sure every orc had been blown to pieces and that only a crater remained. Then he turned to leave.

But just then, a poisoned dagger glinting with cold light struck from behind him. The spell shield around Ryan flashed once before the dagger pierced straight through it.

Ryan's heart lurched. The blade's bone-chilling cold pierced through his clothes, raising goosebumps on his skin. The dagger had already sliced through his robe, and he could almost feel its icy edge.

At the last possible moment, Ryan activated the spell shield on the Ring of Aelinsus, blocking the dagger's thrust once more. The instant of reprieve gave him time to rub the sapphire-blue ring on his hand and cast Lesser Teleportation, escaping the spot.

When he saw what was happening, Ryan was startled. In the place where he had just stood, a dark elf dressed in black, close-fitting clothes was eyeing him with the playful look of a cat toying with a mouse.

He unrolled a Spell Scroll and addressed Ryan in a sinister, menacing voice. "Kid, you're almost out of spells for the day, aren't you? How about we make a deal? Give me that thing you're carrying, and I'll let you live. What do you say?"

Ryan had recovered from the sudden attack. He had ways to keep himself safe, but anyone would feel some anger after being attacked without warning by an unknown enemy.

Still, his good training kept him calm. He turned the stranger's words over in his mind and silently considered what they meant.

He knew I was running low on Spell Slots, so he must have been following me throughout the earlier battle. Judging by how dangerous this assassin seemed, he had to be high-level or worse. Yet even so, he'd waited until I'd killed the orcs and relaxed before making his move.

Damn, this time I've run into a real handful. But what thing is he talking about?

Ryan's thoughts raced through his mind, but in reality, only an instant passed.

When the black-clad assassin saw that Ryan said nothing, he grinned wickedly.

"Little Mage, are you still thinking you can escape with a teleportation spell? Don't bother. I've locked down this space with Dimensional Anchor."

Ryan's face darkened. He shot back at once, "If you won't tell me what you want, am I supposed to give you back your mom's underwear?"

The dark elf flew into a rage. His voice turned harsh. "You little brat, I've changed my mind. I'm going to cut you to pieces, one slice at a time, then take the treasure of Silverymoon from your corpse."

At that, Ryan's heart gave a sudden jolt. Treasure? Could he mean the item my teacher asked me to deliver? No, how does he know I'm carrying a mission item?

Could it be my teacher? No, my teacher would never leak my whereabouts. Then the only possibility is that someone at the Silverymoon Mages Guild let the secret slip. There's a spy from another faction in the Silverymoon Mages Guild!

Ryan was still planning to keep probing for information, but the dark elf, dagger in hand, had already lost patience. He grinned cruelly and disappeared into the darkness. "Kid, get ready for my wrath. I swear, you're going to have a night you'll never forget."