To be a proper assassin, you need to either be faster than your opponent, or at least able to get through their constitution in just one strike. In just one movement, capable of leaving the potential variables naught but dead.

  As such; Agility is likely the most important stat. At least that’s what many would tell you. But, of course, this course is more advanced than that. An even spread of stats is best for an assassin, for otherwise they wouldn’t be able to cut down foes by getting close.

  -Perine Inertive in “To Kill A Ghost”

  72 - Trial

  Judine opened her eyes to a dagger dropping down from above. She quickly rolled away, and summoned her new paint brush of reality as her pillow is stabbed with a soft chink. Whoever attacked her in the dark was fast too, as Judine’s swipe away at Reality itself was dodged.

  The small goblin that stared at her from beneath a mask seemed leveled, watching Judine the same way she was watching the assassin. The dagger the goblin stabbed her pillow with had serrated edges that seemed to absorb the darkness to increase the sharpness.

  Judine’s eyes didn’t quite need to adjust to the darkness, but she thought for a second about the stats of her foe. She could easily see the movements, and the only reason she was struggling at all was because of the tightness of this room, and her own despisement of collateral damage.

  She could just remove the story of the room, rewrite it to fit her better, but there were others in this hotel. And so she allowed the dagger to cleave into the paint brush, drawing in darkness while the brush let loose the ink-black fragments.

  “You are quite strong for an assassin who interrupted my rest.” Judine offers the complement as she let loose a kick on the goblin, launching them out of the room and through the door.

  [389,624 Bludgeoning Damage!]

  The door broke easily against the goblin, and Judine followed swiftly, gripping the goblin by the neck. She noted how the goblin let go of the dagger and stole it well before the goblin could regain it.

  [Legendary Equipment Acquired; Dagger of The Infinite Black]

  She didn’t read the description as she kept the goblin at arms reach. The goblin definitely coughed up blood onto her arm, and she felt the warmth of it. “Who sent you?” was the only question Judine had in mind, and so she asked it.

  The goblin coughed before answering something unsatisfactory to the judge. “I’ll never tell!” The goblin yelled out, and suddenly a door to her left opened. It was the room with Clara, and she looked at Judine holding the goblin against the wall; next to the window.

  Clara doesn’t question it too bad, blinking a few times before walking past Judine. “I’ll go grab the other three.” Judine nodded as she kept the goblin pinned. The goblin struggled beneath her grip, but the gap of 253 levels was definitely much greater than either of them thought.

  The damage dealt wasn’t just a small amount that the goblin could walk off. That Judine knew, she’d seen people broken worse but it was on a rare occasion when her eyes laid upon a victim like that, either the victim of a violent crime or a victim of a violent law.

  The difference defined her before the Tower. And the Goblin was defined by the violence inflicted. The fire inside the soul of the assassin was still bright, the fate of the goblin was to die here however.

  Even if Judine were not the executioner, its fate to die at the hand of a blade wielded by someone was set. Clara walked into the hallway followed by Pallad, Bariton, and Shammus. The three looked on at the goblin with a hint of suspicion.

  “Ha! You think I’ll talk because your friends are here?” The goblin spat out, thrashing in Judine’s palm. That was all she needed to hold it. It left her with a feeling of disgust, but she kept it down.

  “No,” Judine’s voice was calm, halting the conversation there and then. “I know you won’t speak. My friends are here to see your judgement, to see your fate, is followed through justly.”

  Bariton looked a bit surprised at Judine’s words, but he simply walked up to the goblin. “Hm, an interesting tune…” The bard muttered under his own breath, seemingly unknowing of the speech.

  The goblin looked up at Judine with a certain hate in her eyes. She recognized it as the hate Marxillious showed her before his death as well. A just killing, she; the one to decide for she is the one that has the strength and Power to.

  The assassin was holding their hand tight. And suddenly, somebody Judine hadn’t recognized walked through the hallway, looking rushed and worried. “Calling everybody to the ballroom!!”

  Judine’s head snapped in the direction, the wind generated causing her hair to fly back for a singular moment. The goblin didn’t quite move along with it. Bariton asked first, “What for?” The person stood for a second, stunned at the speed Judine had shown, then blinked twice.

  “There’s been a murder in the night!” The speech of the unaware person quickened, still being easily understandable but also would’ve been lost to the wind were the person not talking to the Tower Heroes. “We must figure out the one who killed them!”

  Pallad stepped forward next, “So we shall go!” Pallad patted Judine on the shoulder, and signalled all he needed to with a nod. They had a suspect already; with how this assassin attempted to kill her just a moment earlier.

  The other three followed Pallad, and Judine handed the goblin off to him. Even as the goblin protested, they died down as they entered the ball room with a large crowd of people forming a circle around a person dressed akin to a sage.

  They rushed up to the party, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, our seven gods hath abandoned us!” The older person spoke with such clarity, but such joy when looking upon the five, no six including the goblin. “You hold the key to progress, the information to defer the guilty one behind the death of Pinure Kinesa!”

  The sagely person stepped aside, allowing Judine and the rest to walk through, holding the Goblin. There weren’t many hints to who this Pinure person was, but based off the closed casket, and the picture on the frame, they were sorely missed.

  Of course, whispers passed around the group as Judine walked forward, and simply read the expressions everyone held. Some of them had judgemental stares, and Pallad looked slightly uncomfortable.

  Bariton and Shammus held one another’s hands, and Clara stood in the back, glancing at the eager looks on everyone’s faces with the same twitch she got before a battle. Judine took control of the conversation however, and the crowd hushed.

  “Alright, so we are tasked by the noble…” She paused for the name of the sage, who looked patient, much more patient than the crowd that stared up at her. Upon hearing the name escape the elder’s lips, she froze for a second. “Marxillious, to find the criminal.”

  A bitterness rose in her chest, but it died down. It wasn’t Judge Marxillious simply because it couldn’t be the previous head judge of Forsivo. She killed him herself, and even got the experience from it.

  She sighed, as the whispers increased. She softened her face with a glance along the peoples, and decided to listen in on a few of the whispers. She was standing in front of the party, representing them.

  Judine heard all sorts of rumors splitting around, people trying to pin the blame themselves. Eventually however, many of them came around their own variant of the conclusion, why would it be one of us when there are five outsiders?

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  Judine noted the issue of the floor. It was a good chance to give up one of the party members, especially with the gallows given to them by the environment. It was enchanted with a special ability that destroyed the soul of whoever was hung by the rope.

  That’s when she noted the assassin sent in wasn’t meant to be here. It was an earlier form to force only 4 gods to be made by the Tower. The System didn’t expect this either. “We have our own suspect!”

  Judine let her voice echo within the ballroom, letting the shock of the statement fit into the crowd. Bariton simply played along, “Aye, that we do!” The bard began the speech, not yet asking any questions. “We understand we are not the group you want to believe, but we hold the key to this mystery!”

  Judine waited patiently for Bariton to ask her of her plan. When the bard didn’t, but rather acted along it easily, Judine made a mental note that they had worked together for years on end. A reminder she noted she needed.

  “This goblin here, attempted to kill our good friend, and fellow Demigod, Judine!” Bariton took the goblin from Judine’s restraints, and raised them up by the scruff of the neck to the crowd, now awaiting with bated breath.

  Pallad joined in as well, “With the suspect put into play, we have a question to ask all of you!” The paladin stepped forward, the armor clanking as he stepped forward to face the crowd designed by the system. “Who here, actually knew the victim?” Pallad’s pause after here catching Judine’s attention.

  Clara’s eyes were scanning the crowd the same as Judine’s were. The fates whispered nonsense into Judine’s ears as she kept reading the faces. Somebody did move their eyes away from hers and she noted that it was the owl masked fellow.

  A few stepped forward, and shouted out, “They were the reason I was even here!” The first to shout was a busboy, not holding a plate but the outfit itself showed his occupation to the stars. “Whoever killed them in cold blood should fess up!”

  Nobody did, and Judine knew precisely how the killer felt. That they’d get away with it because of the goblin… Judine also knew she had to kill the goblin due to Bariton telling it of the fact that they were demigods.

  “Halt.” Shammus’s voice was cold as it cut through the air, and he pointed his cane at the owl-mask. “Where are you headed at such a dangerous time?” Shammus didn’t move from the stage next to the coffin, but his gaze lingered on the opponent.

  Judine caught a glimpse of movement, but Shammus restrained himself. She noted how the swordsman took this so seriously. Maybe the Tower is making fun of the swordsman, as he was framed just as the goblin just was.

  The masked person stopped in their tracks. Everyone’s eyes fell upon them, and Judine knew the person only saw five sets however. Her own gold, Clara’s pink, Shammus’s red, Pallad’s green, and Bariton’s blue.

  She wanted to include Sornid’s purple, but nobody on the stage had the purple eyes she missed. Had the purple eyes Clara blamed herself for losing. Judine blinked a few times, before calling them up to the stage.

  “Please, come up here, I’ve got a few questions for you.” Judine attempted to look as polite as she could as the owl masked fellow walked forward, and took her hand. She pulled them up onto the stage.

  “Please, just stay calm…” Clara lightly placed her hand on the person’s shoulder, and her magic activated. It was subtle, but the goblin flinched in response. Clara shook her head to Judine’s acquisitive look, that she was sure she wore.

  Clara let her voice follow forth next, “We had found the actual perpetrator.” Her voice wasn’t cold, and was rather reluctant. Clara stepped forward, while Pallad held the owl masked person still.

  “We will allow you all to vote on the issue, what should be done with the criminal?” Clara tilted her head in confusion as Judine noted the look on their eyes. They weren’t hurt personally, but they certainly followed their ‘gods’ rights.

  Wrath sort of manifested above the crowd as the crowd yelled for the death of the owl masked perpetrator. When they looked in such fear at Judine… Judine was left questioning the same thing she first was in the tower.

  Is the legal system really righteous if the executions were used as entertainment, or was it just a terrible twist of justice? Was it just a terrible accumulation of memories that people dared face, or was it someone’s sense of justice turned into entertainment for an extra good.

  Judine ignored the question, as Clara stepped back. Judine caught her, allowing Clara’s warmth to fall into her arms after tripping against the odd nature of the stage. The three men of the party shielded the two, and Pallad was turned to Judine to continue plotting.

  “Should we really follow what the crowd’s saying?” Pallad asks, over the roar of the crowd he was hardly audible. The question was double edged. Judine had a guess that this floor was about a weird twist of justice anyways.

  “Morally or what the System wants us to do?” Judine’s question made the goblin flinch moreso. Some of the people were getting antsy as well, some of them attempting to reach up onto the stage to tear apart the perpetrators themselves.

  Pallad’s answer was silence, as he stared out at the crowd, still roaring out with wanton to see death. Destruction. Some floors were a moral test, others were a strain on the mind. Judine knew this, and yet she didn’t want to kill the kid.

  She knew that at this point the fate was set in stone. Pallad looked the same, alongside Bariton. Clara’s eyes were weighed downward by regret and what must’ve felt like stones on the back.

  Judine understood the look, and Shammus sighed. He drew a blade from the cane, and it seemed to absorb the light nearby; giving it a sort of ebbing darkness that slithered out from the blade similar to an octopus unfolding from a container.

  He placed the sword upon the neck of the goblin first. “I recognize you, Hermes.” Shammus muttered loud enough for only the other four to hear. Judine looked up to Shammus, and took notice of the look of what seemed to be a maelstrom of negativity behind the eyes.

  Shammus drew back the blade, leaving a thin line of red on the neck as the goblin collapsed down. Shammus moved to do the same with the Owlmask. The nickname stuck for their final moments as Shammus stabbed into their head at the brain stem.

  Supposedly that would cut off all thought in a single moment, at least that’s what the theory said about it. The crowd seemed displeased with the method used to kill them, as the goblin, called Hermes by Shammus, reached up.

  “Why, Shammus?” The goblin used Shammus’s real name which made his back straighten in response. He glared at the goblin and simply stated. “You hold no right to that name.”

  Shammus kicked the goblin off the stage, and that’s when the crowd cheered. The monstrous glare of the others was terrifying to look upon. The painless death gifted to the Owlmask was empty, and grand doors opened for the five.

  They cheered as the party walked through to the grand door opened. Clara was in the center, Judine knowing full well how uncomfortable it was in that position. How odd it was to see all the people looking over them.

  Judine shot glares at the people clapping in joy. At another's death. They were all guilty of a similar crime, few of them even knew the person killed by the Owlmask, nor did they know her. The victim’s justice came from an unjust pair of hands.

  She walked forward towards the large stone doors as they opened. The System gave them a right to move on after the ticket, and it was a stone dungeon, with winding hallways akin to a labyrinth.

  And the clapping died down as the stone gate closed with a large clunk, almost deafening to the people inside the ballroom she was sure. The clapping fades further as she turns and the doorway is gone.

  Judine sighs as she turns to face her party once more. The dark labyrinth was quite grand, lit only by sparse torches along the walls spaced out just enough to allow spots of shadow that are just hardly visible what hides within.

  “Well,” Shammus begins, placing the sword back within the sheath to reform the cane. “This will be quite an odd floor. What is this, floor 52?” Shammus’s questioning was tied together the flame light hitting his red eyes while he looked around.

  Judine noticed what Shammus likely had before, while Clara answered his question. “No, I think this is floor 53…” Clara’s answer snapped Judine’s attention to her. “The vibe of the first floor after 50 fit in with floor one, didn’t it?”

  Judine stops for a second. Bariton kept moving the conversation while Judine thought of it. “Hm, not really, except for the fact that we got cool things from them both!” Bariton pulled out the little charm he received.

  Shammus’s eyes snapped to the charm, and pulled out his own. “Hm, mayhaps we have a few duplicates. At least up until floor 40.” That caught Pallad’s own attention. He drew upon his inventory to draw the Slaughterer’s Blade, which Shammus proved his theory with.

  “Huh.” Judine made just a sound of acknowledgement. It also threw a few wrenches into her theory as to why the first 50 floors were so easy. The swordmasters were sent in two years before she became the head judge, allowing her 8 years of fame and setting up shop before the Tower tore her away.

  “Well, how are we going to get through this maze?” Bariton shifted the topic to the proper placement, and of course Judine immediately swapped her train of thought over. She couldn’t come up with an idea before Bariton brought up the major flaw. “I can’t hear the music of it…”

  “Wait.” Pallad holds up his hammer as he stares at the wall. His grin grew as he lifted it ready to strike. It would appear the paladin had an idea, but it wasn’t just yet clicking before she heard him state the obvious. “I have an idea.”