After saving Elora’s father, being questioned extensively by Guild mistress Magda about the ghouls, and being held in a cell by Watch Captain Bormac, the brothers found themselves eating breakfast in the storefront two days later.
The first thing that had happened was that they had returned Enris to his daughter. The second most important thing was that they had leveled and acquired new skills.
[Initiate Spy Level Seven] — [Initiate Spy Level Eight]
[New Skill Obtained — Walking Mirage]
[Duelist Level Seven] — [Duelist Level Eight]
[New Skill Obtained — Quick Step]
They had both gained separate skills of their own, and they had yet to try them out.
Damian sat on one end of the side table. He grabbed a fried egg with his fork and bit into it, letting the rest fall back onto his plate, which was filled with a few vegetables and bread.
Darrow, on the other hand, did two things at once. In one hand, he pushed a boiled egg into his mouth, and in the other, he held a letter they had received from Elora and Enris.
He re-read the section, thanking them for their help. The letter went on to add that if they needed any enchantments, they could go to the shop and get whatever enchantment they wanted as long as it was within reason.
With their new mana skills, Damian guessed that using enchanted items would become much easier and more preferable than using ordinary equipment and weapons.
There was a sudden knock at the door, and the brothers both froze and looked toward it. They exchanged a brief but tense glance.
No one with anything good came knocking on doors in the morning. The only time that was a thing was when it was the city watch delivering news, which was most often bad. Your guild master telling you that you were out of the job, or someone from the drake cities wanted you taken in for questioning. Neither of those things was good.
Damian got to his feet, hesitated one last time, looked back at Darrow, and his brother just shrugged.
He moved forward cautiously, placed his hand on the doorknob, and opened the door. He stepped back, then frowned.
Basrick stood on the other side. The dwarf looked as pissed off as ever, but the difference was that he was bruised, bloody, and beaten near half to death. It seemed like whoever he had come across had been more than a match for him.
“Ye bastards,” Basrick started, sputtering as he tried to punch Damian and fell over instead.
Damian stepped back and let the buff dwarf collapse in front of him.
“Who is that?” Darrow asked.
“It’s Basrick,” Damian said, nudging the fallen body with his foot.
“Ah… is he alive?”
“Yeah, but someone gave him a good beating.”
Damian frowned and looked outside into the wide alley leading to their shop. Quickly, with Darrow’s help, they pulled the dwarf inside the building.
Two hours later, after they had thrown him into a chair, the dwarf stirred. His breathing was shaky and weak, but he groaned as he slowly woke.
Basrick blinked furiously, trying to clear the disorienting fog from his vision. He looked up, saw the twins, frowned, and cursed.
Darrow offered him some water. Basrick looked at the glass, then up at the rogue, snatched it, and took a deep gulp.
Damian looked him over for any serious injuries. Despite how bad he looked, whoever had done this seemed to know how to hurt a man without breaking him.
“We’re still not friends,” Basrick said, wiping his mouth with his hand.
“Never said we were. Why are you here?” Damian asked, crossing his arms.
“I have a message for you two.”
“From the same person who hurt you?” Damian asked.
“Yes. A man in black came looking for you.”
“In black?” Darrow asked.
“Yes. A rogue.” drugged on.
“And do you know this man?” Damian asked.
“No.” Basrick said, massaging his bruised body.
“Then I think you tried to hustle the wrong guy,” Darrow said.
“No. He came to us looking for you two. A man like that is not a good target.”
“What does this man want from you, then?” Damian asked.
“Me and my boys were attacked because of you two.” he pointed a finger from Damian to Darrow, but Eve, just looking at both of them, was starting to bring back a headache. Why did they have to be twins?
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Basrick, tell us what he wanted,” Damian said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him gently.
“He wanted something you stole from Lord Greldo’s safe box,” Basrick said, folding his arms and slapping Damian's hand away. Or was it Darrow?
“Oh…” Darrow’s eyes widened, and Basrick narrowed his eyes as he looked from one brother to the other.
“What is it? What did you get?” Basrick looked up at them and wondered how bad an idea you had to have and then go through with it to steal from a high-level rogue.
The brothers exchanged a look, then turned back to the dwarf. Damian spoke first.
“Where does he want to meet us?”
Basrick frowned. They had just ignored his earlier question, but he submitted and instructed them to an isolated alley right by the Ashlock Bridge. After all, he didn't want more attention from a high-level member of the rogue's gallery.
“So, are you going?” the dwarf asked.
“We have to,” Damian said, biting his lip.
“Why don’t you give me whatever you stole, and I’ll get rid of it for you?” the Dwarf said, narrowing his eyes and lowering his voice.
“Absolutely not,” Darrow said, turning to him. He looked the dwarf up and down without sympathy and ushered him toward the door.
“Hey, wait. You owe me for this as well,” Basrick said, pointing at them, but when he was outside, Darrow slammed the door in his face.
“Are you sure? We could have used his help,” Damian said.
“No. I think we can handle it,” Darrow replied, adjusting his cloak.
Damian didn’t like it, but he reluctantly agreed, and they prepared to leave.
He checked the satchel containing the stolen papers, tightened the strap of his sword around his waist, and took a deep breath.
The brothers stepped outside and looked around, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. No corrupted, no mages, and no ghouls. The assassin clearly wasn’t going to attack them here.
—
It took a while, but they finally reached the meeting location. The alleyway was dark and well hidden from the streets. Torn paper drifted in from the busy road, and at this time of day, the sun avoided the alley entirely.
“I think we should head back. We’ve seen enough,” Darrow said, turning to leave, but Damian grabbed his cloak and pulled him back.
“You’re the one who wanted to come, remember?” Damian said, then let go.
“Yes. I’ve seen it. Now let’s go.”
“I didn’t expect you to be squeamish after what you did... breaking into a lord’s estate and stealing what you did.”
Both brothers spun around and froze. They turned their backs to each other and had their hands on their weapons.
“If you wanted to kill us, you could have done so already. Show yourself,” Damian said, scanning the alley.
There was a step on stone, the shuffle of a cloak, and the air in the alley stilled as a figure emerged from the darkness.
Damian's other hand gripped the satchel containing the magical contract tightly, making sure the assassin hadn’t moved for it. It was still there.
Arden stepped out of the shadows, his hands visible at his sides as he approached calmly. He was lucky the two hadn’t run or sold the contract. Who knew what could have happened then?
“You have something that belongs to me,” he said.
Darrow narrowed his eyes at the rogue.
“What exactly do you mean?”
“Don’t play games with me, boy. This time, I will kill you.” Arden warned.
“You hurt Basrick. Why?” Damian accused. It wasn't that he liked the grumpy dwarf, but it was just like him to ask the question.
“The dwarf?” Arden frowned, then chuckled.
“Yeah. Why? He’s a bully, sure, but he isn’t that bad,” Darrow said.
“I needed to send a message. Or did you want me to come after you?” the assassin arched an eyebrow.
Damian said nothing. He wondered if he could use [Quick Step] and engage the man if it came to that.
“Why not?” Damian said.
Arden glanced at them, then chuckled.
“That would make for a good start to our exchange, now wouldn’t it?”
“And why do you want it so badly?” Darrow asked, though he already knew why.
If it were up to him, he would have used it to climb the Rogue’s Gallery ranks. But holding an assassin contract also runs the risk of the assassin pulling a few strings of his own and sending other assassins after him before he could give it to one of the guild's higher-ups. He wasn't high-leveled enough for that. at least not yet.
“That’s not your concern. Give it to me,” Arden said, holding out his hand.
“It doesn’t matter. We read the contract, Arden,” Darrow said. Arden’s eyes widened.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, lips pursed and fist clenched.
“I’m sure and i know that you can’t attack us,” Darrow said, stepping forward confidently.
Arden’s jaw tightened. That was the weakness of being a licensed assassin in New Calvassen: whoever held your magical contract couldn’t be killed by you. It was a law imposed after the Assassin Guild of the past took control of half the continent, which was something even the Dragons refused to tolerate.
“You know nothing,” Arden said.
Darrow raised one of the papers bearing the hidden symbol of the Rogue’s Gallery.
There was a sharp shk as a hidden blade snapped out in Arden’s hand. He didn’t strike but simply stood there, grip tightening.
“So it’s true,” Darrow said. “I always thought it was a rumor.”
He stepped forward again—and that was a mistake.
Arden blurred forward, dagger pressed to Darrow’s neck, but Darrow didn’t flinch. In fact, his arms were raised, and his smile seemed forced as he tried to keep up the bluff.
“I may not be able to kill whoever holds my contract,” Arden said calmly, “but how about those around you? That woman you stay with. The enchanter you rescued. Or even your brother.”
Damian stepped forward, recognizing the threat for what it was. Arden’s eyes flicked to him, then to the satchel. His dagger flashed.
Damian lunged, punching. Arden stepped back, grabbed the satchel, and cut it free from Damian’s waist.
They froze. Arden held the magical contract in his hands. Their leverage was gone just like that.
“Now that I have what I came for,” Arden said, “let’s deal with you.”
Darrow cursed. Damian stared at his empty belt in disbelief. Now, nothing was stopping the assassin from doing as he pleased.
“You have what you wanted—” Damian began, then raised his bracers as daggers flew at him.
They bounced off his forearms and clattered to the ground. Darrow threw his daggers, but Arden pivoted away with ease.
Arden advanced, daggers in both hands, and Damian moved to meet him, but He kicked Damian’s leg out from under him, sending him stumbling. Darrow attacked from behind, but his blade was deflected, forcing him to duck a counterstrike.
“Go for the satchel!” Damian shouted.
At this range, Damian couldn’t draw his sword. He punched instead. Arden stepped aside, redirected the blow, and thrust his dagger forward. Damian knocked it away with the hilt.
Darrow lunged again but was kicked hard in the chest and sent crashing into the wall.
Damian grabbed Arden’s shoulder. Arden ducked, broke the grip, and spun away.
Damian triggered [Quick Step], his fist already flying.
Arden sidestepped, reaching for a poisoned dagger—but Darrow emerged from the shadows and grabbed his arm. Arden grunted, striking Darrow in the jaw, face, and stomach, then threw him aside.
“You’re not getting away,” Damian said.
“I’m tired of wasting time on you two. This time, I’m going to kill you,” Arden replied.
Darrow started to speak, but Arden surprised them both. He threw the satchel at Darrow.
It struck his face. Arden closed the distance instantly and smashed an elbow into Darrow’s nose.
Darrow hit the wall again, sliding halfway down to the cobblestones. The satchel fell between them.
Damian charged. Arden smirked, sidestepped, and drove a knee into Damian’s stomach.
“Still charging without thought. Didn’t you learn last time?”
Damian doubled over, then he kicked out his knees, sending him down.
Arden grabbed Damian’s head, tilted it back to expose his neck, and raised his blade to finish it. It was that moment they knew they had gotten themselves into a situation way over their heads and levels.
