Chương 92: Chapter 057 We Meet The Gods With A Smile (Part 1)

The hounds below had begun to howl again. They tasted blood in the air. Jack felt it too, metallic and thick in his mouth, clinging to his tongue like smoke. Dozens of deerhounds barked and strained against leather leashes, their handlers dragging them back with shouts and whips. Among them, the three lymer hounds bayed deeper and crueller, their growls like war drums echoing up the mountainside. Baron Greaves stood still, his lips pressed thin with obvious displeasure.

Beside him, Baron Argil radiated fury, his fists clenched so tight that blood dripped from his palms. Baroness Vampese smiled like she'd already watched them die in her dreams. Fenton lingered behind them, licking his teeth, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his blade. Greaves barked orders. A hundred metres downslope, the remaining eighteen guards assembled under his command. Beastkin, mostly. Broad-shouldered warriors and spear-wielders with leather armour, some with fangs, others with claws.

Two archers moved into flanking positions, their bows in hand. One foxkin carried a folded net across his back. Another had manacles swinging from his belt.

"Go," Greaves ordered, his voice calm as if discussing the weather.

"Do not kill the scribe. Wound him. Arms, legs only. I want him alive and screaming." Behind the guards, Jack could make out the four nobles: Greaves, Argil, Vampese, and Fenton… the hawk-faced noble brat who had glared at him through the hunt and over dinner. The only young noble to survive the ritual chamber massacre. His blond hair was wild, his expression one of greedy anticipation. Every few seconds, [Assassin's Intuition] triggered, mostly from the direction of Fenton. Jack's gaze locked on Greaves.

"I fucking hate you," he whispered. He imagined loosing an arrow straight into the Baron's black heart, but he knew the [Pseudo Mage: Enhanced Shield] would deflect it. Greaves couldn't be harmed by blades or arrows. He turned to Cain.

"They're sending everything at us." Cain spat a glob of blood and grinned.

"Only eighteen left. Almost not worth sharpening my sword for." Jack grinned back despite himself. So many mistakes. This would be his second death in as many weeks. He took a breath and muttered a prayer to the Gods.

"I've failed them again. Please… protect my family from Greaves." The guards began to ascend. The foxkin with the net jeered.

"Drop your bow, boy, and we'll only break your legs." Jack smiled at the taunt, though inwardly he was fighting back a rising panic. Good. They still believe I'm weak. A hulking bullkin smacked his mace into a gloved palm.

"I want the scribe. Bet he squeals when I crack his fucking knees." Jack glared at the bullkin. I didn't squeal when Greaves killed me. I won't even grunt for a pig like you. He placed [Assassin's Mark] on the bullkin. Healthy, happy, major armour, no protections. Cain's eyes never left the path.

"Stay focused, Jack. Kill what you can. We meet the Gods with a smile." Meet the Gods with a smile. Jack shook his head. Maybe this time I'll actually meet the Gods. His hands trembled as he nocked an arrow. He was breathing hard with his legs braced wide on the narrow path that edged the rocky cliff. One wrong step would see him plunge dozens of metres into the raging river that carved its voice into the valley below. With his heart hammering, he took a slow breath, drew back the arrow while activating [True Aim].

The skill charged, and the air seemed to tighten. He picked the fastest target; it was a wiry jackalkin leaping ahead of the pack. Come on… grant me a little luck. He was hoping Tyche, the Goddess of luck, chance, and fortune, would give him a helping hand. Six seconds passed, and the skill triggered. Jack loosed the arrow. The arrow wooshed through the air towards the fast-moving target. The jackalkin saw the shot coming and shouted, "Shit!" His body blurred with a skill. A burst of agility, but he overstepped.

His foot slid on shale, and he toppled with a scream. A heartbeat later, he vanished into the river below. There was no splash… just the sound of the turbulent water. Jack's eyes widened in shock as he nocked another arrow. No time for a skill. Cain gave a hearty laugh.

"Never seen a man dodge into his own grave." The foxkin with a net chuckled. Jack pulled the bowstring back, aimed for two seconds, and shot. It missed a lionkin by half a metre. The lionkin smiled, showing his sharp canines as [Assassin's Intuition] pinged. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Then the first wave arrived. Cain surged forward, his blade moved like a whisper, and the first guard, a pantherkin with a spiked shield, caught the tip under his jaw.

The sword ripped up into his mouth and out the top of his skull. He died gargling on his own blood. Another, a hyenakin, lunged from the side. Cain turned, stepped inside the reach, and hacked the guard's arm clean off at the elbow. Blood sprayed in an arc as the beastkin wailed in pain and shock. Cain silenced him with a thrust through the chest. The man spasmed and collapsed. This is it. No more holding back, Jack thought as he pulled a [Chronos Sphere] scroll and activated it. The world blurred, and time slowed.

He ducked under the swing of a badgerkin's slow-moving hammer, circled behind, activated [Backstab] and guided by [Dagger Proficiency], rammed his dagger into the gap under the guard's ribs. He felt it scrape bone and push into a lung. Warm blood spilt across his itching hand. The beastkin gasped in slow motion as Jack twisted the blade; something tore inside. The man dropped to his knees, still clutching his hammer, then fell still. A flash of memory of the female assassin torturing a middle-aged noble.

She slid the dagger blade into the noble's abdomen. Time returned to normal as the assassin skill wormed its way into his mind. Jack gasped as power flooded his body. Another pseudo skill joined the rest. He stepped back as [Assassin's Intuition] pinged, only for pain to explode in his shoulder. An arrow buried itself deep into his left shoulder blade. He cried out and fell, his vision flashing red from pain, but then it eased to an ache.

His new passive [Pseudo Warrior: Endure Pain] skill dulled the sharp edge to something he could handle. Below, Greaves shouted, "No chest shots! Wound only! He must live!"

"Yes, my lord," the archer replied.

"Sorry, my lord." Jack rolled, the arrow shaft snapping as he hit the ground. A foxkin guard sprinted up the slope, a pair of manacles swinging from his belt, and a truncheon in his hand. The guard lunged with his truncheon raised. Jack reached for his breast pocket with his right hand, grunting at the shoulder injury.

"[Frost Breath]." He pointed his left hand at the beastkin's chest. A cone of ice and wind exploded from his palm, engulfing the guard's chest and face. The foxkin shrieked as his skin cracked, and his fur stiffened to frost. Jack lunged forward with his [Assassinate] empowered dagger in hand and drove it into the man's freezing gut. The blade caught, stuck, but he pushed while activating [Disembowel], splitting through the icy tissue.

The beastkin twitched, then collapsed in a heap of blood and frost as a new memory of the female assassin flashed through Jack's mind. She made a series of three dagger strikes against a heavily armoured warrior. The first two were feints, the third punched through the man's armour. Jack felt the power surge, and his fatigue reduced. A new pseudo skill formed as he staggered back while using pseudo [Heal] to stop the bleeding in his shoulder.

It scabbed around the broken arrow shaft; he moved the arm with a groan, but the range was pitiful. Two more arrows flew past as [Assassin's Intuition] triggered. One went a few inches wide of Jack's left leg. The archers were being more careful now. The second arrow zipped past Cain's ducking head. Ever watchful, he deflected another arrow with the flat of his sword.

"We need cover!" He moved uphill, dragging Jack with him. Cain grunted as another arrow skimmed his arm, but he didn't break his stride. They scrambled twenty metres up to a bend. The cliff face turned sharply, protecting them from the archers below, but the path widened. Now, three guards could attack at a time. The first trio came hard: a lionkin, a snakekin, and a pale human with hooked sabres. Cain met them head-on; his sword clashed with the lionkin's axe.

Sparks flew before the lionkin snarled and bit at Cain's face. He headbutted the lionkin, then ducked beneath a hooked sabre from the human guard. His sword slashed across the lionkin's gut. The beastkin roared and grabbed the wound as Cain shoved him off the cliff. There was no scream… just wind and the roar of the unforgiving waters below. The snakekin darted in with a pair of daggers drawn. The beastkin was too fast. Cain took a dagger blade to the left thigh. Blood burst from the wound, soaking his leg.

He dropped to one knee as the snakekin pulled away. Jack threw a smoke bomb at the retreating snakekin, hitting him in the face. He then lunged at the man with the hooked sabres. The man slashed, but Jack blocked the blade with his white oak bow; the hooked blade cut into the sturdy wood. Jack stabbed at the surprised guard and, guided by [Dagger Proficiency], caught soft abdominal flesh before a foot slipped on the bloody shale. He fell on his face with an oomph. Fuck. This is it.

He gritted his teeth as [Assassin's Intuition] flared, expecting agonising pain as a sabre blade cut into him. The guard raised his sabre, but paused mid-strike; Jack was meant to scream, not die. Jack turned just in time to see Cain rise behind the guard and impale him through the back with his sword. The blade burst through his stomach, and the guard coughed up blood and died gurgling. Jack gave Cain a thankful nod. The snakekin engaged Cain, again slashing his left thigh.

He grunted and parried the second strike and gutted the snakekin with a warrior skill. His sword opened the guard from hip to ribs in a vicious upwards arc of steel. The beastkin's insides spilt onto the shale like cooked meat. Jack stabbed the snakekin in the knee as the dying guard fell beside him. The pseudo goblin [Quick Stab] skill made his dagger move at twice the normal speed as the tarnished blade sank into the knee joint.

The beastkin hissed in pain and died as a flash of memory of the female assassin sliding the dagger into the elbow joints of an armoured guard. He felt the wave of power, relief from fatigue, and a new skill form. Jack wasted no time; he used pseudo [Heal] twice on Cain's left thigh as he felt his mana drop low. The wounds scabbed over, but wouldn't hold for long, not with more fighting on the horizon. Jack and Cain had managed to kill eight of the eighteen guards.

"I'm running low on mana," Jack whispered to Cain. Cain offered a wry smile.

"We aren't going to last much longer, and I really want to kill a fucking noble," he whispered. Jack nodded. What's he going to…

"Let's get this over with." Cain took a deep breath and yelled, "Those young nobles died like squealing piglets! Send the coward who ran away next and let's see if he squeals like the others!" His loud laughter echoed off the rock face. He pointed his sword at Fenton. Shit. That's going to rile him up. Jack prepared himself to die. Fenton drew his sword, his face flushing red with anger, but Greaves grabbed him by the arm before he could do anything stupid. Then everything changed.