Chapter 01 — Stealth, Stumbles, and a Sore Knee

It was night again. A secluded castle lay in the middle of the forest in silence. And within that silence, an assassin watched from a tree branch.

That assassin was none other than Talian.

The stories spoke of Talian as the greatest assassin in his field. He was the one behind the tyrant emperor's assassination in his country. Every mission was but a stroll in his eyes, and every tyrant and oppressor was merely a corpse waiting to be.

Talian was an assassin, yet everyone loved him. A savior, as some would say. And merely a bloodthirsty killer in the mouths of the minority.

But that minority, in most cases, consisted only of those who feared for their own heads. In other words, every tyrant, every oppressor, and every soon-to-be corpse.

After all, who would fear Talian other than his prey?

Talian was a savior. Talian was famous. And Talian was falling from the tree branch straight to the ground…

"Damn it! On my first mission!" Talian cursed, rubbing his slightly wounded knee. "I can't fail my first mission. The first step is my path to a world of success."

On second look, Talian was just a child dressed in black clothes that did not match his fair complexion. Suppressed tears of pain slipped down his cheeks.

"I won't get another chance to become an assassin. I'll make this mission a success," Talian whispered, the future assassin who had yet to rise from where he fell.

A gust of wind rushed through the trees, sending Talian's hair fluttering. "Oh!" It also made him realize he was doing a poor job of being an assassin—at least from his perspective.

Pushing his small body to stand, he hurried toward the nearest tree, hiding behind it while watching the castle in the distance.

His knee hurt, but what was pain to the legendary assassin he was going to become?

Talian started moving toward the castle. Jumping between trees was no longer an option; he had yet to develop that level of agility. And his earlier attempt had not ended as perfectly as he had imagined in his small head.

Soon, Talian peered from behind the closest tree to the castle's small back gate. Standing before it were two guards clad in leather armor, their weapons resting against the stone walls beside the gate.

"Hmph, how sloppy," Talian remarked with a superior expression. "But I'm not in the mood for killing."

He crouched toward the damp ground and picked up two small stones. His plan for dealing with the guards was simple: he would throw the stones as a distraction and use the assassin's speed and agility to sneak through the gate. The fools wouldn't even know what happened.

Talian proceeded with his plan.

The first stone landed to the left of one of the guards with a faint sound. Talian feared for a moment that the men wouldn't even notice the noise due to their incompetence, but his worries quickly faded.

"Oh, did you hear that, mate? What do you think it could be?" one of the men asked, his voice not as natural as Talian remembered.

He's probably just scared, Talian thought.

"I'm sure it's nothing," the other guard replied, his voice oddly loud. "It's not like some highly skilled assassin would come to a small village like ours. It's probably nothing, but why don't you go check it out? We should do something to justify our wages."

"When you put it that way, I'll go take a good look."

Talian watched the man foolishly fall into his perfectly designed trap. But he was patient; he waited until the guard disappeared from sight before executing the second part of his plan.

The second stone landed to the right of the remaining guard. The impact was louder than the first, startling the man so much that he jumped in fright.

"What could that be?" the guard asked aloud, one hand on his chest and the other atop his head.

Talian nearly laughed at the ridiculous reaction. These guards were a joke. But to give the man some credit, he eventually decided to investigate the sound, muttering about how it was impossible for a legendary assassin to be around.

"Too easy," Talian said with a wide grin as he made his way to the small gate. His movements were slower than usual, as he was slightly limping and his knee hurt more than before.

A low hissing sound escaped Talian's lips, but he forced himself to slip through the gate before the guards returned.

Beyond the gate lay the same kitchen Talian was familiar with. Even the scent of smoke and burning wood was the same. So, naturally, he knew that if he didn't hide quickly, the kitchen workers would soon arrive. Worse, they might recognize him.

Talian couldn't let that happen. He couldn't allow the mission that would introduce him to the world of assassins to end in such a foolish manner. But on the other hand, his knee hurt too much to continue the mission.

'An assassin must be in top shape to perform at their best.'

Talian reassured himself with those words and dashed under the large wooden table to hide.

Not even a minute passed before the sounds of approaching footsteps echoed toward the kitchen. They were followed by the voices of a conversation that became more meaningful than the distant whispers they had been before.

"Hey, Liska, are you done with the spices yet? Hee-hee!"

The first to enter the kitchen was a woman with a chameleon-like head and gray, scaly skin, dressed in a maid's uniform.

Liska, a Lizardfolk woman, gave a wicked look to the small Orc girl after her teasing question, which carried nothing but the intent of heavy-handed humor.

"Oi, Orky, too much salt ruins the soup, yess?" Liska replied with an even heavier joke.

Talian pushed himself deeper under the table, covering his wounded knee. Orcs had a keen sense of smell, and while Orky was still young, her olfactory abilities were not lacking.

And the moment Orky took her first step inside the kitchen after Liska, she froze in place. A new smile replaced the embarrassment Liska was teasing her about—the embarrassment of her first day when she learned that her catfolk employers were far too weak for salt, unlike Orcs.

She began sniffing the air around her, her smile unwavering. "I smell delicious meat. I smell something I can eat! Hee-hee!"

Talian trembled slightly, pushing himself deeper without making a sound. He even held his breath to avoid being eaten.

"What are you talking about?"

A third figure shoved Orky aside and entered the kitchen. Her pointed ears twitched for a moment before quickly settling down.

"Oh, that!... Get back to work, you heavy green. There's nothing here for you to eat. We make the food."

"With the right amount of salt, we do!" Liska laughed, clicking her tongue slightly.

"Oh, shut up, you too. Do you need a reminder of your first day?" The Elven woman spoke again, still pushing Orky away from Talian's hiding spot. "The three of us will focus only on our work and nothing else. We will see nothing but the ingredients in our hands, and we will hear nothing but the crackling fire on the wood and the sound of the soup cooking. Now get to it!"

Orky sighed in disappointment but still complied. "I was just joking with Ta—! Myself, yeah, myself!"

"You've said enough, light green. Come here, let me give you a big hug." Liska opened her arms toward Orky. But the Elven woman stood between them, giving them both a scrutinizing look.

"Alright, alright, I'll work. We still have time anyway."

Talian took advantage of the maids being distracted by their foolish conversation and slipped deeper into the castle. He could already feel his stealth and agility improving compared to just a few days ago.

'Real missions really do feel different.'

Talian thought as he ran down a long hallway. A dim yellow light illuminated his path from the lamps hanging along the corridor. The stinging smell of gas trailed behind him and ahead of him.

Talian's knee still hurt—more than before—and even more so as he ran on it. The bloodstain had dried, preventing more bleeding, but Talian could feel his leg betraying him, refusing to move.

"…What!"

Talian came to a halt, panic gnawing at his mind. His hand pressed against his knee joint, only for pain to paralyze his entire body.

A scream of agony escaped his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks in long trails. He crawled across the stone floor, dragging himself toward the wall where the gas lamps were lined.

Talian screamed desperately for help, already forgetting all about being an assassin and the mission assigned to him by the mysterious man. His leg had suddenly stopped moving. He had merely dragged it along the ground where he fell. But the pain following his attempts left him sprawled on the corridor, trembling violently.

His loud cries reached the sharp ears of the Elven woman. She abandoned the work she was supposed to oversee in the kitchen and ran after Talian, following the path he had snuck through.

"Oh, dear god!"

By the time she reached him, his screams had already stopped. The only thing left was the sight of a small child lying motionless on the ground.