Assassin's Chronicle

Chapter 12: First Battle



Chapter 12: First Battle

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Tennesh

"Professor, why do I feel something is wrong?" Anfey asked, his eyebrows knit together, as he walked into his own room.

"What happened? Are you not feeling well?" Saul asked.

Saul and Ernest were both at the peak of their careers. However, they were not better than Anfey when it came to their sensitivity to their surroundings, since Anfey was an assassin. Saul and Ernest didn’t notice anything fishy around them. Anfey could not tell them the reason he made that kind of judgement, because he could not contradict the role he was playing.

"Nothing, Professor, you should get some rest. I might just be too tired." Anfey closed the door slowly. "So... It’s all on me now!" Anfey’s eyes were cold, but a confident smile was on his face. Self-esteem was one of the basic qualities an assassin should have. In other words, it was hypnotherapy he was doing to himself. A more powerful enemy will bring out a better version of him. He could often fight beyond his ability when in grave danger. A person in battle would perform below his ability if he was intimidated by the enemy, and would be unlikely to come away from the battle safe and sound.

It was said that the dark of night was ideal for killing, as were high winds for setting a fire. However, in terms of the changing weather, it was impossible for one person to predict. Moonlight cast on the water lightened up the place. People with evil intentions were setting out towards Archmage Saul’s Rose Home Hotel from all directions.

Three cuckoo calls appeared in the air at night. A dark shadow pulled out a scroll from his shirt and tossed it out with all his strength. The scroll transformed into a flying flaming dragon the moment it left his hand. The whole sky was lit up by the humongous flaming dragon. It swooped down to the room at the far end of the Rose Home Hotel with irresistible power. That dark shadow was too afraid to see the result of his ambush. He turned away and ran away from the hotel. He ran so fast and so far away from the hotel, he seemed like he was running for his life.

Archmage Saul was meditating in his own room. Saul’s eyes opened wide the same moment the flaming dragon appeared in the dark sky. The next second, he was standing in front of the window. He heard a loud cracking sound from the next room before he could open the window. Ernest rushed out the window and chased after the dark shadow that was already running far away from the hotel. It looked like Ernest was covered by a bright white light when he rushed out of the window.

Saul started to chant when the flaming dragon was 300 meters away from the Rose Home Hotel. He finished chanting when the flaming dragon had approached to 200 meters. A mirror suddenly appeared suddenly in the air, like a floating aurora. The flaming dragon ran into the mirror and disappeared, like a stone tossed in a deep pool. Everything went back to normal, as if nothing had happened.

Saul secretly used levitation magic to set up a barrier in front of Anfey’s windows. It was not a great defense system, but Saul could sense any intense magic surges or combat power the same time Anfey would. Saul followed Ernest and chased after the dark shadow. He did not know who attacked Rose Home Hotel with a flaming dragon, but he knew it would have burned down the hotel and killed everyone inside of it if he was not there. He had to capture this murderer and interrogate him as to why he was so inhumane and cruel.

"These two old men! Can’t one of them stay?" Anfey smiled bitterly. He did not sleep. Obviously, he did not dare to fall asleep. The rival obviously did not expect to kill Saul with the flaming dragon spell, so... was this a trick to get Saul and Ernest out of the way, or a diversion to lure them out and kill them? The second possibility could be eliminated because, if they wanted to catch Saul by surprise, it would be better to find a time when he was not on guard. Right now, Saul was awake, which left them no opportunity to kill him. Saul was a space archmage. There was no way they could attack him. Anfey already understood the traits of space magic, having hung out with Saul for the past few days. Saul was not invincible, but he was nearly unkillable. Even falling into a trap and being surrounded, Saul could still escape with his space magic! Saul was not afraid of fighting against anyone unless they wielded dark magic or spirit magic.

"So the only possibility left is that they’re trying to clear Saul and Ernest out of the way... Who was their target? It couldn’t be me, could it?" Anfey thought.

Anfey was in thought for a while, with his brows knit together. He could not find the potential value in himself. It seemed pointless to think about their motive since it had already happened. "Adopt measures appropriate to the actual situation. Be careful, I am a tough nut!" Anfey spoke aloud to himself.

High-ranked swordsman, Mott, strode towards the corridor. He could barely cover the sound of his footsteps. His best friend, Tanane, had already lured Saul away from the hotel. What else should he be afraid of? Tanane was just a low-level mage, but Mott was not concerned about his safety. Tanane was a master when it came to escaping. He had been on the Wanted List of both the Mage Union and Mercenary Union for three years, but no one had laid a finger on him. Tanane planned on escaping through the sewer at the end of the chase, betting that Saul would not chase after Tanane in the filthy sewer. Saul had too much pride to do so. He would have to reluctantly go back to the Rose Home Hotel without Tanane. The Master seemed to know everything and could predict what would happen. This time was no exception either.

Mott pushed Anfey’s door open. Although the young man showed neither any magic surges nor combative vibes, Mott still vigilantly scanned the room out of professionalism.

The room was decorated simply. A bed was against the wall in the south, a loose mage robe on a hanger above the end of the bed. A man was laying on the bed, sound asleep. Two closets were opposite the bed. There seemed to be nothing abnormal about the room.

It was pretty good to be able to see these things in the dark, but what Mott did not see was what was inside a normal looking closet. Two bent bamboo sticks were pressed against the closet, but the pressure from the bamboo wasn’t enough to push the top of the closet open. The closet door was held tight with clothes stuck in between. There were two strings hanging on the closet handle, drooping all the way down the ground and connected underneath the bed.

Mott walked to Anfey’ bed in big steps, lifting the blanket quickly with his hand. He was shocked by what he saw; there was no trace of the young man, only blankets shaped into a long roll under the blanket.

Damn it! The moment Mott realized what happened, he heard a banging sound, like that of a heavy object dropping onto the ground behind him. He felt that something was shooting towards him. Mott slashed his sword backhanded, and gathered Qi to fight. The sword was covered under a cloud of bright redness.

At the moment Mott turned around, he saw, from the corner of his eyes, a silver lightning shooting out from under the bed. He felt a surge of pain in his lower leg. He was tricked! That damned kid was under the bed!

Mott swirled away with all the strength he had while prodding with the sword. He’d run out of time to catch the young man alive, as the young man had already obtained the advantage in this fight. If he was given another chance to fight, he might become crippled even if he could kill his foe.

If Mott’s moves slowed down and the room was brightened up, the scene would be like this: Mott gathered all his strength and leapt off the bed with his sword. He could not take any new actions to protect himself at that moment, as Anfey flew out like lightning from the robe and jabbed the wooden stick into Mott’s throat. A humming sound followed.

The magic wand Anfey used looked ridiculously powerless at the top, but it was sharpened at the bottom. Anfey was an assassin who was familiar with the human body structure. He would never try to pierce the strong bones, instead he attacked the throat, which was the weakest part with the least muscle!

Mott’s face crumpled in pain, dropping his sword on the floor. He tried to grab the wood stick. Anfey smirked at him while he lifted the wood stick and knocked it on Mott’s chin.

If Mott’s chin was a fulcrum, Anfey applied the force from his hand on the stick. According to the Law of the Lever, if ten kilograms of force was applied, then hundreds of kilograms of force was amplified on the short arm of the lever. The wound on Mott split open. His eyes began to water, his nose began to run, and he was rendered incontinent from the pain. No strength was left in his hands.

Anfey stepped forward and took the stick out at an angle on purpose. Blood oozed out from the wound, and Mott slid down to the ground helplessly. He lost his life after trembling a few times.

Anfey walked towards Mott, picking up his sword and slashed a few times, then slightly smiled. "If the adversaries are at this level, then... they will just embarrass themselves."

"Master, we still... I have been feeling that young man is not as innocent as we thought," Kalibim said in low pitch.

"So what? Are you asking us to stop now?" The gloomy old man grunted with dissatisfaction.

"Master, we’d better be careful."

"Did that young man figure anything out?" Layton asked in surprise.

"Layton, be smart! How could Saul fall into our trap if that young man figured something out?" The gloomy old man sneered.

"Master, but...there was something about his look that frightened me, I think he..." Kalibim was that peddler selling magic crafts in front of the Rose Home Hotel. He could not forget the way Anfey had stared at him. He could not tell exactly what about Anfey had frightened him either.

"Ok, Ok! There is no way we are stopping our plan!" The gloomy old man said impatiently, "Kalibim, if you think that young man was not that innocent, could you please help Mott? You are a master swordsman, and Mott is a high-level Mage. There is no way you will be defeated by a young man, right?"

"I understand, Master." Kalibim sighed, turning around and walking out of the room.

"Layton, you do not need to wait here. Do you think you can lure Saul away if Tanane did not make enough time for us?"

"Yes, Master."

Kalibim walked down the fourth floor to the second. He hesitated for a while but finally walked towards Anfey’s room. In his mind, he was afraid of fighting against this young man, but he did not dare to disobey the Master’s order.

Suddenly, Kalibim pricked up his ears. He heard a very light sound from another room, belonging to Archmage Saul. Saul should have been lured out. Who was in the room? Or... was it a hallucination?

Kalibim held his breath to get a sense of the surroundings. He did not feel any magic surges or combative vibes from the room. He was slightly relieved. He walked slowly to the door. The moment he grabbed the doorknob, it slammed open with a loud banging sound, which took Kalibim by surprise. It knocked him out so hard that he saw stars and felt some coldness from his chest. A long sword had pierced through the door and into his chest.

Anfey walked out like nothing happened. Before he started the fight, he could tell the person outside of the room was a mage instead of a warrior. This judgement was based on the uniforms... Mages would not wear armor, while warriors would not wear a mage’s robe. The sound of footsteps could barely be heard and his shadow moved fast, like he was floating in the air. Although these helped Anfey make a reasonable judgement, he paid too much attention to the timing of the attack, instead of the force of the attack.

Kalibim already recognized Anfey. His pupils contracted. Then he tried to scream out the warning. Anfey strangled Kalibim’s neck in his arms. "I will give you some advice. You’d better not walk in a corridor with burning candles. Your shadow sold you out!" Anfey told him. He added more force on his arm. Kalibim’s neck broke.


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