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𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 (𝟏𝟏)
The assassin spoke up as if a glimmer of hope had emerged. People tend to weaken when they have hope.
“If I speak, swear to God that you will ensure my safety.”
“Alright. I swear to God.”
Of course, unlike the assassin’s thoughts, Johan didn’t hold oaths in such high regard.
Oaths are only meaningful to those who believe and fear God.
Even among those who believe in God, there are those who break their oaths, so it was unlikely Johan would care.
‘𝘐𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘢, 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.’
No matter how welcome a member of the Venom of Nessus guild might be, Johan had no intention of risking covering for him. After all, hadn’t Kaegal said, ‘𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮’?
“I agreed to kill the magistrate and received eight gold coins and thirteen silver coins from the south.”
“Right. To kill Repiata-gong. . . Huh?”
Johan hesitated.
Not Repiata, but the magistrate?
Startled by the unexpected name of the opponent, Johan was taken aback.
“Who commissioned it?”
“How would I know that?”
The assassin looked at Johan as if to say, ‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵?’ There was never a case where the person who hired an assassin did it personally.
Naturally, it would have been a servant or a maid who paid the money.
“He spoke Empire with an eastern accent and was wearing quite expensive silk clothing. It even had embroidery. . .”
“Seems like a pretty wealthy guy. If a servant wears such clothes.”
But still, it was of little significance. There were many who spoke Empire with an eastern accent, from the Empire itself to the nomadic tribes and small kingdoms.
Johan gave up on finding out about the client and asked something else.
“Did you plan to use poison to kill the magistrate?”
“Yes.”
Using poison was a skill hard for the common person to know. An average person wouldn’t know where to get the ingredients or how to mix them.
“Did you learn it at the guild?”
“No, I grew up in a family of herbalists. I bought a few from other guild members in exchange for gold coins. . .”
Venom of Nessus operated in a completely different way from other guilds.
Whether it was a merchant guild or a captain’s guild, usual guilds actively protected and took care of their members. They defended their rights and nurtured new guild members. . .
But this assassins’ guild only shared a name and nothing else. One either survived long enough to rise or simply died.
The transmission of skills was also limited. A new assassin had to figure out how to kill people on their own. If they wanted to learn from others, they had to find a way themselves.
Kaegal’s swordsmanship was what he had accumulated over his life, not a skill shared throughout the Venom of Nessus. Just as the assassin didn’t know Kaegal’s swordsmanship, Johan didn’t know the assassin’s poison.
“What about changing faces?”
“It’s a curse I received from a pagan temple during an Eastern expedition.”
Although it seemed like a useful trick, it was more of a curse. At the pagan temple, he had been robbed of his original name, lineage, and face.
Changing faces might seem convenient, but there was no magic without a price. In addition to various preparations, each change brought the agony of bones breaking and muscles tearing.
Upon hearing the detailed description, Johan’s expression turned grim.
‘𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦.’
From the beginning, the idea of crossing the sea to the east was impractical, and even if he went, it wouldn’t have been a skill worth learning. There was too much to lose. An assassin originally couldn’t even remember their own body.
Having heard everything, Johan opened his mouth.
“I saved your life. According to the rules of Nessus, you would repay the debt with a life. Are you prepared for that?”
“. . .Yes.”
When Johan brought up one of the few principles, the assassin frowned. Someone, unknown, seemed to have told him in great detail.
“Then kill Cardirian the Second.”
“. . .!!!”
The assassin looked at Johan with a shocked face. His eyes were saying, ‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?’
The assassin had picked his target. Targeting the Emperor was something no assassin would dare to do.
“Even with hundreds of gold coins, I can’t accept such a request!”
“But sometimes, one must accept unavoidable requests. Cardirian the Second has only one life, and so does a magistrate.”
Johan unsheathed his sword and cut the ropes binding the assassin.
“Go. Leave this city. If I see you again, I can’t guarantee your life.”
“. . . . . .”
The assassin walked out with a defeated expression, staggering.
Johan didn’t have high expectations. Whether the assassin targeted the Emperor, didn’t, or even failed in the attempt. . .
If he succeeded, it would be an unimaginable windfall, and even in failure, it would deal a blow to the Emperor. If he ran away without trying, it would remain as a debt.
Johan didn’t care about oaths, but the assassin seemed to take them seriously. He wouldn’t just run away casually.
‘𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮.’