Chapter 6 - Everything Goes Perfectly

Killing people is easy, everyone knows it. There are hundreds of ways to do it and most of them are pretty straight-forward. What's difficult is actually getting away with it. Sure, the CULT allows mercs to do so in specific contexts, but killing someone otherwise without a legal justification will get you behind bars at best and hanged at worst.

That's my current predicament. Heather wants me to kill this Allan guy, and I've got to make time to do it while still fulfilling my duties to the company and finding time to advance with the special operation to breach the walls. It's a total pain in the ass.

"Thorne! Stop dozing off!" The Operations Overseer's voice brings me back to reality.

Right now, I'm in his tent again, giving him a progress report on the special operation.

"Oh- Sorry, Sir. I'm just a little tired."

"How uncharacteristic of you. Anyways, what have you been up to? How's the plan coming along?"

I pull out a bunch of maps and documents out of my backpack and lay them on his desk for him to see. He lights a cigar and takes a long puff before leaning in to check them out. The entire tent reeks of cigar smoke.

"Uhh... I've been going on scouting missions with Crow, the specialist you assigned to me. We've mapped out the walls of the enemy town and figured out other important details such as the shift rotation schedules of the Sulostan sentries and some places where attacking is plausible."

He takes a moment to inspect the maps.

"Mmm... Good job. You should start actually assembling the strike group now. Maybe go on a couple test runs before we actually go against the walls..."

That will be the hardest part of this entire ordeal. I still have no idea how I will convince people to join me in the special operations.

 The Overseer then warns me of possible 'political turmoil' within the officer corps of the company and orders me to keep my eyes peeled for saboteurs and report anything suspicious back to him.

"Is that all? I have other matters that need to be addressed. Logistics and whatnot." He says.

"Yes, Sir. That's all for now."

"You're dismissed."

I salute him and go on my way, but I turn back just before exiting.

 "Actually, there's something more, Sir." I speak.

 "Make it quick."

I realized that the Overseer may be able to make murdering Allan Southwest easier if I manage to convince him to turn a blind eye to my actions, or even better, help me get permission to kill him at the CULT.

 "Uh... It's a sensitive topic."

 He makes an expression as if he was telling me 'Go on, I'm listening'.

 I choose my words really carefully.

 "There's a person who... uhh... I believe will be instrumental for the success of this operation. However, they have refused their support unless I have a talk with a certain mercenary."

 "A 'talk'?" He raises an eyebrow.

By the gods, this is such a mess.

"Yeah... I need your approval so I can have this talk with this merc. Uhh, he may be unable to continue working for an unspecified period of time after I'm done with him."

The Overseer laughs out loud. I notice I'm sweating bullets.

"I think I understand the situation, but quit with all the goddamn yapping, Thorne."

"Uh?"

"You're asking me for permission to kill some bastard, aren't you?"

"N-Not exactly, Sir." I assure him, knowing that that's exactly what I'm doing.

The Overseer sighs heavily.

"You know, in wartime, we don't have time to spare for dealing with any bullshit whatsoever, so the punishment for murder is immediate death. We are particularly strict about this here in the frontlines. I'm sure you're aware of this, Thorne."

I gulp.

"Y-Yeah. But I am also aware that desperate times call for equally desperate measures, Sir. I am committed to ending this siege and I believe that this is necessary to proceed with the plan."

"..."

The Overseer inspects me from head to toe. I feel like my heart skips multiple beats, he could have me court-martialed and hanged right now. Thankfully, he just takes another puff from his cigar and sighs again.

"Well then Thorne, let's think for a minute. Wouldn't finding another person to help you in the operation be easier than committing murder just because some asshole doesn't wanna participate?"

The Overseer's pragmatic concern on point, but I've already considered all the alternatives and I figured this is the best option.

"Finding a replacement would be harder than doing what I'm proposing." I state.

The Overseer meditates for a few moments.

"So be it, have it your way. There's a problem though. I don't have the authority to authorize you to murder an employee of the company, and it would be really bad for me if the higher ups somehow get to know I did that."

"Oh..."

"However, what I can do is grant you a 'Blind Eye' permit. Hand this over at the local CULT office and the authorities won't bother to investigate, say, if they found a dead body or other signs that a murder might have happened."

He scribbles something on a strange document and then folds it inside a letter which he then seals with wax.

"That would help a lot."

"Yeah, but beware. If you're caught in the act or if there are any witnesses, you would still be arrested, and I'd have no choice but to put you through the sword. I hope this is worth it, Thorne, because if you fuck up somehow, I'll need a replacement for you in the mission".

He hands me over the letter with the Blind Eye permit.

"I understand."

"Now, disappear before I regret doing this." He orders.

I leave hastily. I guess I'm really doing this after all.

Sometimes, I like to boast to other people that I'm an overly rational person and all that, but this time I can't help but feel that this might not be the most rational decision. The Overseer made a very good point about this being more trouble than it's worth and I'm already having second thoughts. So, why am I going through with this?

I grab my staff, and attach some aether batteries to my belt as I reflect. I guess I'm hoping to lay my hands on his money and maybe his weapons too after I kill him. I'm already committing fucking murder, I might as well do some robbery while I'm at it. However, despite how much I try to gaslight myself into thinking otherwise, the actual reason is that it ought to be fun. The past two years of stale siege warfare have bored me way too much, I'm itching to do something exciting.

It is not below me. At this point nothing is.

So I set forth to the local CULT office, which is in a small town that popped up not far away from the camp when a bunch of merchants and whatnot settled down there looking to make profit by providing services to the army. The CULT office itself is a small building made out of black bricks and it's heavily guarded by a bunch of equally heavily armored soldiers. It's a shady place, but I've grown to love it since this is where I go to collect my payment each month.

The inside of the building is equally as gloomy as the outside. There are a bunch of pamphlets on the walls detailing wanted criminals for bounty hunters to take care off and advertising of other mercenary companies currently hiring. Stracian flags and old weapons on display adorn the place.

I feel a bit out of place among the mean-looking mercs doing paperwork and collecting blood money, but I wait around a bit until it's my turn to be attended by the CULT staff. A receptionist lady in a jet black uniform behind a barred counter greets me.

"Good evening. What business do you have here today?" She says in a cold tone.

"I wish to pay my taxes... and also this."

I hand the letter the Overseer provided me over and she opens and reads it. She then looks up at me and inspects me from head to toe.

"...A Blind Eye permit?"

"Yeah..."

She sighs and then presses a little bell on her side of the counter. It makes a little 'ding' sound and in an instant, two soldiers approach and point their swords at my throat. I am taken completely by surprise.

"H-Hey! What is this?!"

One of the soldiers takes my staff away from me. The receptionist unholsters a wand and threatens me with it. I freeze.

"Where did you get this, woman?" She waves the letter in front of me.

"The Operations Overseer gave it to me, dammit!" I reply, angry and anxious.

"Oh, really? Do you expect me to believe the Overseer gave this to a random no-name mercenary like you!"

The soldier's swords are pinching my neck.

"I'm not a no-name! I'm a sub officer, I'm working with the Overseer on a special operation!" I point at the sub officer insignias on my uniform.

"Mm. Well, what's your name then?"

"I am Rose Thorne and I swear I will reduce this damn office to ashes if you don't unhand me right now!" I yell, despite being unable to do so because my staff was taken from me.

The receptionist makes a hand signal to an assistant of hers. She then orders the soldiers to step back a bit.

"Huh. Still, Blind Eye permits are serious business. Why should we grant you one? What do you even plan to do with it?"

"I-It's for a special operation. If you deny me the permit, you will be fucking interfering with the Overseer's plans. Your bullshit will cost our company a bunch of money and men!"

"Watch your language, mercenary." She squints.

At that point, the assistant of the receptionist returned with a couple documents in his hand.

"I've just confirmed her identity. Rose Thorne, artillery mage recently made sub officer. She's among the top 20% earners in her company, she makes us a ton of tax money" he says.

The receptionist stares at me, then takes a glance at the documents her assistant brought. Her attitude towards me seems to change in an instant.

"Mm. Alright... I apologize for our manners, Ms. Thorne."

She dismisses the soldiers, who push my staff back into my hands and go away as if nothing had happened. I am dumbfounded.

"I'll hand this over to the higher ups for you. Be reminded that the Blind Eye permit does not release you from liabilities related to any of your activities." She says as she stamps the letter and gives it to the assistant.

I'm tempted to paint the walls of the CULT office with her brains, but I manage to keep cool.

"...When will this be effective?"

"Pretty much immediately." She affirms, her tone being completely different from before.

"Okay. I'm off."

"Nice hunting, Ms. Thorne."

"Fuck off. Actually, I recommend you to be nicer to your customers, especially those that know how to cast high explosive spells, you damned bureaucrat."

The mercs and the rest of the staff around in the office start to get uncomfortable. The receptionist just puts on a fake smile. I leave before I get the chance to blow the entire place up.

I return to the camp pretty much right after, deciding to be done with this as soon as possible. After a bit of asking around, I managed to locate Allan Southset's camp. It is night and the wind blows. Time to kill.

"Allan Southset! Are you there?" I call him from outside the tent.

After a bit, a drowsy brown haired man comes out to greet me.

"Yeah, what do you want at this hour?" He speaks, annoyed.

I show him my sub-officer insignias to lure him out.

"The commander ordered me to summon you. We're doing a special offensive operation, and we need you."

"Right now? I wasn't told anything about this?"

"Uhm... It was kept secret until now to prevent the enemy from anticipating the attack." I create lies as I go. I'm not very good at it, but It'll be enough for now.

He doesn't look convinced but obeys anyways.

"Damnit... Fine. Give me a minute."

He puts his uniform and combat gear on and comes out of the tent after a moment. Combat mages like him usually wear a lot more armor; he has a helmet under his mage hat, a steel chest plate and chainmail. He is armed with a heavy duty wand and a maze. I certainly wouldn't like to face this guy on the battlefield.

"Follow me." I command.

I take him to a secluded place on the outskirts of the camp. It's dark, neither the moon nor the stars provide their light due to the thick brown clouds of soot everpresent in the frontlines due to all the pollution. Southset just follows me around. It seems this will be easier and a lot less fun than I originally thought.

We arrive at the spot I have chosen for the murder.

"Go on, further ahead. The others are waiting there."

My victim stops on his feet. He has finally sensed that something is wrong.

"Hold on. There's nothing here." He says.

"Figures."

I shoulder my staff and cast a low-energy spell at him. The muzzle flash of my staff lights the darkness around us for an instant, like a lightning strike. He groans and collapses on the ground, spraying me in blood. However, he isn't dead yet, his steel armor absorbed most of the impact.

"Ahhg! What the hell is this?!" He groans.

I get on top of him and point my staff at his head.

"Heather Lancaster sends her regards."

He scoffs and coughs.

"That stupid slut?! Aghh, I should have known better! It's not unlike that sow to resort to such dishonorable tactics... She should have just challenged me to a duel if she hates me so much, for fucks sake!"

I agree somewhat.

"You're the one to say? Didn't you kidnap and rape her sister?"

"Huh? I didn't kidnap her, we eloped! Theres a big fucking difference! Her family just refuses to accept it to save their stupid reputation!" He yells.

"Whatever. I don't care. The only thing that really matters is that Heather wants you dead."

I transfer aether to my staff.

"Last words?" I speak.

"Disarm your enemies before going in for the kill, you dumb bitch!!!"

"Wh-"

In a split second, Southset unholsters his wand and casts a spell point-blank at my stomach. I don't have any armor, so his spell cuts through my guts as if they were porridge.

"AGH!"

I collapse on the floor. Southset punches me in the face and then makes a run for it.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE, YOU FUCKING- "

I cast multiple spells in his general direction, but it's too late, he's gone.

I roll on the ground and remove my robes to take a look at the wound. It hurts so much it's difficult to put it into words.

"AGH! FUCKING HELL!!! GODS FUCKING DAMMIT!"

I groan loudly as I quickly bleed out on the muddy ground. The spell didnt damage any of my vitals, so I can probably survive without immediate magical treatment for a few minutes. As I had learned to do in emergencies, I rip my uniform using a knife and stuff the cloth into the wound to slow down the bleeding. I scream so loudly even the gods up above must've heard me.

"Aghh! Aghh! SOUTHSET! SOUTHSET, WHERE ARE YOU!? I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" I yell at the darkness.

I reckon I deserve this, for being so stupid as to not having fucking disarmed him.

I gather all the strength left in my body to stand up and drag myself back to the camp. Things could have not gone worse.