Assassin

"Damn it, we're the only brothers who managed to pull out successfully."

Behind a slightly raised mound of dirt, the Orc captain, his face twisted in a savage grimace, roared in fury at the three or four warriors around him, whose leather armor was still stained with blood and marked by the scars of battle.

"Captain, what do we do now? Most of the fighting men in the tribe are gone; there's no way to answer to the Boss for this. If he finds out, he'll absolutely kill us in his rage."

The Orc warrior, who had taken an arrow to the knee, snapped off the protruding shaft and winced as he tended to his wound, asking his captain with a look of deep anxiety.

"It's all because of that despicable, shameless, wretched spellcaster! If he hadn't suddenly intervened, we would have wiped out that group of scrawny humans long ago!"

At the mere thought of his tribesmen being deceived by the spellcaster's illusions and then taken out by a sneak-attack Fireball, the Orc gnashed his teeth in hatred.

And then there was his close friend, a veteran thief known throughout the tribe as the "Slaughterer," who had been exposed by a Light spell and died without even knowing what hit him.

The Orc, already seething with resentment, felt a surge of grief and indignation at the memory. He felt his friend's death was utterly worthless, and his inner bloodlust, unable to find an outlet, boiled over. He slammed his serrated greatsword into the ground and roared, "Rest here for an hour! We're heading back to the tribe to report to the Boss and call the brothers to come back for revenge!"

The Orc warriors, exhausted from a night of running and slaughter, hadn't felt the toll while in the chaos of battle. Now that they had escaped to safety, the relaxation of their nerves allowed the fatigue, hunger, and the pain of their wounds to wash over them all at once. They immediately grunted in agreement and began to dress their wounds and eat.

Behind the cold, dark mound, Ryan hid quietly in the deep shadows of the night, silently observing the movements of the Orc remnants through a Spell Eye hidden in the air.

Perhaps because the night's fighting had drained the strength of both the Orcs and their Direwolves, the survivors had only managed to flee five or six miles north under the cover of darkness before collapsing from exhaustion behind a wind-shielded mound.

In their minds, having run this far, no human would be able—or dare—to pursue them in the pitch-black of night.

Yet, even the boldest and wisest Orc could never have imagined that a mage would be following them from the sky, utilizing Darkvision.

Ryan silently watched the still-fuming Orc captain, comparing the Orc's lip movements against the Faerûn Comprehensive Language Guide: Orcish - Lip-Reading Edition he had pulled up in his system to analyze their conversation.

Seeing the Orcs still cursing the despicable mage, Ryan helplessly touched the bridge of his nose and muttered to himself, "How can you call a mage's actions despicable? This is called being prudent, alright! That's why you Orc barbarians will never understand the charm of magic."

After observing for a while longer and seeing the resting Orcs gradually lower their guard, Ryan took a breath, aimed at the area where the Orcs were gathered, and chanted the incantation for a first-circle spell recorded in his spellbook: Sleep.

Ryan was quite satisfied with this spell. Although it was only a first-circle magic, its area-of-effect and forced-sleep capabilities were incredibly effective. It was particularly potent against targets without vigilance; Ryan had once relied on this spell to fall asleep on countless sleepless nights, and it was far more immediate than the melatonin or sleeping pills he had used in his previous life.

The Orc captain, who was currently chewing on his rations, suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion. The fatigue from a night of battle and the stress of his boiling emotions crashed over him like a tide. He let out a massive yawn, feeling his eyelids grow too heavy to hold up, and thinking he would just rest for a moment, he closed his eyes and drifted into a deep, death-like slumber.

Ryan waited on the mound for a while, ensuring that all the Orcs had fallen into a deep sleep, before slowly descending to stand before the sprawled-out figures.

He looked at the sleeping Orcs, tilted his head, and weighed his options for a moment before deciding that using a Fireball to destroy the evidence was the best course of action.

Although a shred of the kindness and gentleness from his past life in the Rabbit Country remained in his bones, Ryan only showed that side to those he cared about. He had never been in the habit of showing mercy to his enemies. To adapt to this cruel and savage world, he had already personally dissected over a hundred corpses of magical beasts and non-human races, and had even finished off a dozen Goblins himself for practice.

Ryan understood that to live better and grow stronger in this world, he had to learn how to kill and how to be cruel. Fortunately, Ryan possessed a mature worldview and mindset, allowing him to keep his original intentions intact despite his hands being stained with blood.

Silently sighing, Ryan constructed a magic model, using his mental energy to draw in the floating elements of the world to fill it, forming a small fireball the size of a fist.

The intensity should be sufficient, Ryan calculated silently, before tossing the fireball at the Orcs behind him.

A massive roar erupted from the mound, and the Orcs in their sleep were plunged into eternal rest, unknowingly returning to the divine realm of Gruumsh.

Ryan waited outside the blast radius for a moment to ensure all the Orcs had been blown to pieces, leaving nothing behind but a large crater, before turning to leave.

But just then, a poisoned dagger glinting with cold light struck from behind him, and the magic shield on Ryan's body flashed once before being pierced through.

Ryan's heart skipped a beat. The bone-chilling cold from the sharp blade pierced through his clothes, giving him goosebumps, and as the dagger sliced through his robe, he felt as if he could already sense the freezing touch of the steel.

At that critical moment, Ryan immediately activated the magic shield of the Ring of Aelinsus to block the assault once more. After gaining a moment of respite, he rubbed the sapphire ring on his finger and cast Lesser Teleportation to vanish from the spot.

Taking in the scene, Ryan was shocked to see a Dark Elf in black tight-fitting clothing standing where he had been, looking at him with the playful, cat-and-mouse gaze of a predator.

The elf tore open a spell scroll and said to Ryan in a gloomy, evil tone, "Kid, you've almost run out of spells for today, haven't you? How about we make a deal? Give me that item you're carrying, and I'll let you live. How about that?"

By now, Ryan had recovered from the sudden attack. Even though he had the means to ensure his own safety, anyone would feel a flicker of anger at being ambushed by an unknown enemy.

However, his excellent training kept him calm. He pondered the stranger's words, calculating silently in his heart:

He knows my spell slots are low; he must have been following me since the previous battle. Given the threat this assassin poses, he's definitely a high-level expert or better, yet he waited until I had finished off the Orcs and let my guard down to strike.

Damn, looks like I've run into a truly troublesome character. But what exactly is this "item" he's referring to?

Countless thoughts raced through Ryan's mind, though in reality, it had only been a split second.

The black-clad assassin saw Ryan's silence and laughed evilly:

"Little mage, are you still thinking of using a teleportation spell to escape? Don't dream about it; I've already locked this space with a Dimensional Anchor."

Ryan's face darkened at these words, and he retorted, "If you don't tell me what you want, do you expect me to return your mother's underwear?"

The Dark Elf flew into a rage, his tone no longer polite: "Little bastard, I've changed my mind. I'm going to send you to your death one cut at a time, and then I'll take the treasure of the Silverymoon Mages Guild from your corpse."

Ryan's heart jolted at the mention: "Treasure? Could he mean the item my teacher asked me to transport? No, how could he know I have a mission item?"

"Could it be the teacher? No, the teacher would never leak my information. Then it must have been a leak from the Silverymoon Mages Guild—there's a mole from another faction inside!"

Having figured out the situation, Ryan prepared to fish for more information, but the blade-wielding Dark Elf had already lost his patience, sneering as he vanished back into the shadows: "Kid, prepare to face my wrath. I swear, you're going to have a night you'll never forget."