An Ambush in the Alley

After finally catching up with the schedule! Thanks so much for your support! (Thank you!)

After finishing the deals for the two kinds of wine he had temporarily named the Moonlight Series, Donald finally remembered the matter of William the waiter. He found a mage in charge of the club's daily affairs and learned why William had been fired.

It turned out that ever since Donald had defeated the Black Iron Mage Snow Mage, Snow Mage and his good friend, Mage Naron, had been too embarrassed to show their faces at the club for a while, where so many mages would mock them.

In truth, the mages at the club didn't like the two of them much, since they were narrow-minded and fond of envying talented young apprentices. Few mages spent time with them. Many of the club's younger mages had worked their way up from apprentices and had suffered plenty of difficulties at the hands of those two. Some mages they had once criticized had since reached or even surpassed their level, and naturally weren't going to give them a warm welcome.

On the first two occasions, Donald had made Naron and Snow Mage lose face, so the two naturally held a grudge. But Donald was a rising star among the mages of North Shire, with Messer as his teacher and mages of every rank looking out for him. They naturally didn't dare retaliate. Even if they did make a move, they might not be a match for Donald. After all, he had already been able to defeat a peak Black Iron Mage back when he was still an apprentice. He had won partly through a clever trick, but the fact remained that he'd won. Now that he had advanced to become a full-fledged mage, his strength had probably increased considerably.

For a while, those two had acted like thieves. They only went to the club when they calculated that most of the mages would be busy. That way, they were less likely to run into other mages and have to endure their strange looks and jeers.

But they couldn't stop going to the club altogether, since they still had experiments and cultivation of their own to attend to. The resources available at the club were beyond what they could obtain on their own.

By chance, they heard another waiter say that William was well regarded by the genius mage Donald and that the two had a very good relationship. A wicked idea took root in their minds.

Most people extended their affection to those close to someone they liked, but those two were consumed by anger they couldn't vent because of Donald. When William happened to cross their path, they made the innocent man their scapegoat and found an excuse to expel him from the club.

With their strength, they could have easily killed an ordinary person. Most mages opposed such acts, but the two of them had secretly done it before. However, the club was full of mages, and it was difficult to keep a secret. If someone died, the other mages would inevitably take notice. If Donald got involved, or even Messer started asking questions, the matter would be very difficult to resolve.

So although William had been innocently caught up in it, he had also been lucky enough to escape with his life.

"It's like the old saying: I didn't kill Bo Ren, but Bo Ren died because of me! Naron and Snow Mage are such despicable old men..."

Knowing William had been caught up in this because of him made Donald feel even guiltier. Through a waiter who knew William well, he found out where William lived.

The commoners' district in Giant Stone City's outer city.

Most of the people living in that area were modestly comfortable families with some useful trade that brought in enough to get by and a little extra. The closer one got to the wealthy district, the better off the residents were, including small-time merchants and lower-ranking officials and their families. Beyond the commoners' district, toward the more remote areas, lay the even poorer Lower City.

Some of the poorest families in the city's slums had it even worse than farmers in the countryside. The farmers who worked the lord's land might toil hard, but at least they could fill their stomachs. In the Lower City, people would do anything to survive. Many young children became pickpockets, and those with a chance to get ahead had long since left. That was why the slums remained filthy and chaotic.

Because of the route, Donald's carriage had to pass along the edge of the Lower City to reach William's home in the commoners' district. Along the way, he lifted the curtain over the carriage window and took in a sight he had never seen in this world.

"So this is the Lower City? I suppose there are always dark corners behind the prosperity, even in the modern metropolises of my previous life. There are shantytowns, and even people known as 'ant tribe.' In a society like this, one resembling the Middle Ages, it's even harder to avoid this sort of thing!"

He looked at the thin, dark-skinned children huddled nearly naked by the roadside, and at the adults whose eyes resembled those of starving wolves. In their gazes, he saw hunger and envy, greed and ill intent.

Donald wasn't an ordinary, sheltered, naive young noble who would hand out alms simply because he pitied these people. Unless he could save everyone at once, giving away even one Silver Moon might cost someone their life.

Besides, the people in the slums weren't all just unfortunate poor souls. The area also sheltered countless thieves and con artists, not to mention escaped convicts and genuine cutthroats who wouldn't think twice about killing. Even ordinary residents of the slums weren't necessarily good people. Sometimes the pitiable had earned their own misfortune.

If a young man like him were left alone in this street, he'd probably be knocked unconscious with a Sap and robbed of everything valuable he had before long. That would be the best-case scenario. If he ran into ruthless people afraid of retaliation, they might stab him once more for good measure. Before long, his body would be found in some dark alley or gutter.

So when he saw a few more homeless wanderers ahead, their gazes utterly unmoved—flat and numb—Donald's mood didn't change. He would think about helping people after he had become strong enough.

The carriage was about to pass the few wanderers by the roadside when Donald's expression suddenly changed.

Wait! Something seemed wrong. Their eyes?

That was it. The fellow's eyes didn't have the despair and numbness of someone who lived in the Lower City.

Donald immediately grew cautious and shot a glance at Clinton, who had remained alert.

The infantry captain, who had been infused with extensive combat experience from the Book of Truth, instantly changed his bearing. Yet, despite his sharp reflexes, he didn't stick his head out to look around. Instead, he listened carefully to the sounds outside, bracing his left hand against the seat while his right already gripped his sword hilt.

The sounds outside continued as usual, but Donald felt that an eerie silence had settled around the carriage.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!" Several sharp sounds cut through the air. A volley of crossbow bolts flew toward the carriage from both sides, aimed squarely at its occupants.

"Thud! Thud!"

The black bolts quickly pierced the carriage's thin wooden walls, but no screams came from inside.

For an instant, everything seemed to fall silent. Then the few wanderers who had fired all their bolts suddenly sprang up like nimble hares and monkeys. They pulled weapons from beneath their ragged clothes and rushed toward the carriage.

With a crash, the carriage's side, already riddled with holes, burst apart. Inside stood the fully prepared infantry captain Clinton, along with his master, Donald, holding a staff and surrounded by the Mage Armor's transparent white glow.

The master and servant, the targets of several assassins, didn't panic. Even Donald, who was facing something like this for the first time, remained fairly calm.

When the assassins had come within a few steps, Donald, holding two Magic Cores, seized his chance and shouted:

"Come forth, Gargoyle, Crypt Fiend!"

As the assassins stepped forward to finish off their target, a grotesque black-and-purple demon statue and a huge, fierce gray-green spider suddenly appeared before them.

The spider attacked first, sending a sticky white web covered in droplets of green, clearly poisonous liquid toward them. Five assassins had attacked from both sides. The three on the Crypt Fiend's side couldn't dodge in time and were trapped in the web. Next, they would have to face the giant spider's sharp mouthparts and legs.

Although both creatures belonged to the Undead, the former was an alchemical construct, while the latter was a type of spider monster known in the game as a spiderling. After being conquered by the Lich King, it had joined the Undead in their service, but it wasn't actually an undead creature. So Donald didn't need to worry about summoning it. After all, necromancers didn't exactly have a good reputation in human kingdoms!

As a third-tier unit, the Crypt Fiend had impressive poison and physical attacks. It could also burrow underground and spit out a massive web. Its overall strength came close to that of an ordinary fourth-tier Bronze monster in this world.

Even a fifth-level Warrior couldn't quickly break free after being caught in the massive, sticky web. These assassins, whose average strength was only around mid-level Black Iron, were skilled at ambushes and sneak attacks, but weren't strong fighters in a direct confrontation.

"Mission failed! Retreat!" Seeing three of their comrades caught in the blink of an eye and about to die in the monster's jaws, the two assassins on the other side immediately turned and ran, shouting as they went.

At the two assassins' call, two figures appeared atop the buildings on either side. All four fled in different directions like startled birds.

"Nice try! Gargoyle, after them..."

Seeing that the attackers were about to escape, Donald flew into a rage. The Gargoyle guarding him came to life, spreading its demon-like bat wings and shrieking as it took to the air. At its master's command, it pursued the two enemies fleeing across the rooftops.

As for the two assassins on the ground, Donald and the infantry captain Clinton each took one.

In the time it took to think, the two assassins had already run more than ten steps. Donald remained calm, uttered a short incantation, and pointed his staff at one of them.

"Mage Hand!"

The invisible hand, with a force of more than ten kilograms, blocked the running assassin's ankle. The opposing forces pulled against each other, and the assassin immediately lost his balance and fell flat on the ground. Donald left him to Clinton and turned his attention to the other assassin, who was still running.

"Magic Missile!"

The Magic Missile could track its target and was certain to hit. It struck the assassin in the back in an instant, making him stagger. However, Magic Missile had never been very powerful. Against a mid-level Black Iron target, it did little damage at all, at most causing a minor injury unless it hit a vital spot.

Then Donald immediately cast another spell.

"Stun!"

It was a zero-level spell. Although he wasn't familiar with it, Donald was still able to cast it quickly after his advancement. Reeling from the missile and suddenly feeling his head swim, the assassin stumbled and fell. By then, Clinton had dealt with the first assassin and ran over to subdue him as well.

He brought the two captured assassins back to the wrecked carriage. The driver had collapsed to the ground in fright.

It turned out that when the attack had begun, Donald had been so angry that he hadn't told the Crypt Fiend to hold back. The three assassins trapped in its web had already been reduced to a pile of mangled pieces.

Just then, the Gargoyle returned, carrying a man with his limbs bloodied and mangled. According to the Gargoyle, the other man had burrowed beneath a house. As an airborne unit, the Gargoyle couldn't continue the pursuit, so it had only brought one back.

This was the first time Donald had ever witnessed a real murder. Although he hadn't killed anyone himself, the psychological strain was still considerable.

Suppressing his nausea, Donald ordered Clinton to gather the three assassins together. The one the Gargoyle had brought back had been handled too roughly and was already on the verge of death. Donald doubted he could get anything out of him.

Pointing his staff at one of the two remaining assassins, Donald asked, "Who sent you? Tell me, and I'll spare your life!"

The assassin didn't even blink, showing admirable resolve. Donald wasn't in a hurry. He pointed at the Crypt Fiend and the heap of broken bones and mangled flesh in front of it.

"If you don't want to become this fellow's dinner, I suggest you confess. Quickly!"

Seeing the Crypt Fiend's terrifying appearance, enough to make even a powerful Warrior shudder, and remembering the gruesome fate of their three companions, both assassins felt a chill in their hearts. One of them clearly looked frightened and hesitant.

"I'll talk! Don't let the monster eat me! We're Black—"

Before the frightened, weak-willed assassin could finish, his companion fired a poisoned needle from his mouth. It pierced the man's throat. His damaged vocal cords let no words through, only a choking, rasping sound. He struggled a few times, then died.

Donald hadn't expected an assassin with all four limbs broken to still be able to fight back. Clinton immediately stepped in front of his master, pressing his longsword against the assassin's throat. The slightest movement, and he could finish the man off at once.

But before Donald, still recovering from the shock, could question him again, the last assassin bit down on the poison hidden in his mouth. Black liquid ran from the corners of his mouth. His body twitched faintly, and soon he drew his final breath.

"Damn it, now there's only one left alive!"

He hadn't expected what he'd seen in movies to happen right before his eyes. These men weren't ordinary assassins. They were clearly death warriors trained by some organization, judging by how decisively they had acted.

"Who could want me dead so badly that they'd send death warriors to assassinate me?"

As Donald wondered in confusion, several figures flew over from the noble district near the city center. They soon reached the scene.