The hour was late, the city was dark, and Noah was sitting against Bella’s headboard, enjoying her oral devotion to his manhood. She varied between voracious sucking and tender lovemaking, using the softness of her mouth to project her lust while giving his shaft and balls the attention they deserved. Her head rested comfortably on his lap like she could have fallen asleep.
Bella was rebuilding Noah’s erection after his most recent climax, and her pussy, glazed like a cinnamon roll, welcomed his massaging fingers as he stirred his seed inside her. He also rubbed her ears like they were a weakness to be used against her. He wouldn’t give her any rest or let the intensity of her sensations dull.
Noah looked to the window, hearing metal striking metal. “I think someone is fighting outside.”
“Oh, it’s just the Red Revelry,” Bella mumbled.
“Red Revelry?”
She began stroking him to free her mouth. “That’s what they call it. It happens in the nights leading up to Knight’s Day; applicants to the academy going out into the streets and fighting under cover of darkness. They’ll talk about it down in the bar, bragging about how they get bored waiting for enrollment and want to indulge their thirst for blood and violence. Brawlers and killers also join in, just for the sake of carnage and battle.”
The priest’s words now made sense. Had Noah wandered the streets at night with his weapons, someone might have believed him to be looking for a fight.
“I’m going to go check it out,” he said as he pulled away from Bella.
“What? No! Just let the soldiers deal with it!”
He got to his feet and began pulling on his clothes. “I’m not going out to take part or try to stop it; I just want to watch. It sounds too interesting to pass up.”
Bella embraced him as she had done in the bar, with her wandering hands finding his erect member. “Come back to bed. You can do whatever you want to me.”
“Hmmm, if you say so, then.”
Noah broke free from her hold and walked over to a robe hanging on the wall. He removed the linen belt and a scarf from the top of the nearby bureau. Bella didn’t object as he turned the scarf into a blindfold, nor did she resist Noah pushing her down onto her stomach and tying her hands to the headboard. He could hear her breathing quicken as he once more moved around the room, her bunny ears quivering as she tried to discern his actions.
“Do you know what I’m holding in my hand right now?” Noah asked.
“N-no,” she replied.
He returned to the bed with one of the candles that lit the room and kneeled over her. “This will give you a hint.”
He tilted the candle, making Bella yelp as globs of hot wax splashed onto her exposed back. She shuddered, her breathing frantic. He moved the candle down, dribbling wax onto her lower back and luscious cheeks. Every splatter made her whimper, but she didn’t complain as he left twin trails of wax running down the backs of her legs and on the bottoms of her feet.
“It-it’s a candle?”
“That’s right,” he said while rubbing it between her legs, getting the bottom nice and slick.
He gave Bella no warning, instead just letting her gasp in surprise when he inserted the bottom end into her anus and positioned it so that it stood upright.
“As the candle burns, the wax will continue to melt and trickle down, ever so slowly.” He leaned forward, whispering into her ear. “You’ll probably begin to feel it all too soon, the scalding drops running across your skin, the heat of the flame as it burns down the length. You have to keep it standing straight up, as letting it tilt or shake will make it even worse. I’m going to go out for a bit. Hopefully, I’ll get back in time to pull it out. When I arrive, if the candle is still inserted, I’ll give you a big reward.”
For safety’s sake, he extinguished the candle before he put it inside her, but she didn’t need to know that. Waiting for something that would never come, the unfulfilled anticipation of that first hot drop reaching her anus would be better for keeping her focused.
“Wait, Darling! Don’t go!”
“I’ll be back soon enough.”
With his invisibility activated, he climbed out the window and disappeared into the night.
----------
The waxing moon shone down on Colbrand, with clouds stretching their shadows across the city. Crickets chirped, hiding the sound of blades colliding. Bloodlust filled the air. They moved from shadow to shadow, masked brawlers chasing nothing more than a good time. Only the armed took part in the merriment, but the homeless, sleeping in the streets, still did their best to ignore and be ignored.
In an empty road, a man darted between pools of darkness, eyes scanning every surface and corner for signs of a possible adversary. There was no mission, no quest, nothing to be gained, but everything to lose; yet he could not help himself. His daggers cried for blood, even though he had quenched their thirst earlier in the evening. Ordinary prey wouldn’t satisfy their cravings. No, the gutter trash and homeless would simply rust the blades and dull the edges with their filthy viscera. Instead, his daggers wanted something that would fight back and make them earn their reward.
From within an alley, the man spotted his next challenge. Another assailant ran down the road with a bastard sword at his hip. The man lay in wait for his enemy to approach. He drew his blades and twitched as he heard metal scrape against leather. The adrenaline pumping through him made every sound seem like a crack of thunder.
His foe finally came within range, and the man leaped out like a spider from its den. One of his daggers struck the enemy’s sword, drawn in the blink of an eye, while the second was stopped by a hand grabbing the man’s wrist. They stared each other down through their masks, their arms shaking as they tried to overpower each other. Their breathing was focused and silent, neither wanting the other to know how much they were struggling.
The man jumped back and took a stance, ready to block any incoming slashes. “Chase,” he said.
“Becker,” the swordsman replied.
The sharing of names, rather than etiquette, was a taunt. Whoever lost would know the name of their killer, but their identity would remain a secret from the world.
The first swing came, Becker’s sword catching the moonlight as it careened toward Chase. It was a one-handed attack, so Chase blocked with one dagger and used the other to slash at Becker’s hand. He pulled away before the blade could reach him and attempted an uppercut slash. Chase dodged the swing and lost one of his daggers from the ensuing kick.
Overhead, a cloud moved over the moon, and its deep shadow eclipsed the two warriors. Chase disappeared into the darkness, but Becker sprinted after him. A handful of dirt hit his face, and while his mask blocked most of it, his concentration was broken, and Chase lunged with both blades. One blade was deflected, and the other missed Becker’s throat but left a deep cut on his shoulder.
The cloud passed overhead, and the two men could see. Once, twice, three times, they attacked each other, steel against steel. An untrained eye would only see intermittent sparks in the blackness, but both warriors were dodging and blocking each other’s attacks with unhindered skill. The victor soon claimed his title, Becker circumventing Chase’s daggers and slashing him from shoulder to hip. Blood sprayed like a fountain, and Chase’s heart stopped moments after he collapsed.
Becker took a shuddering breath, savoring the taste of victory. Violence for the sake of violence was a delicious sin. The euphoria and excitement twisted his thoughts, and the sound of his heart beating in his ears prevented him from hearing the gust of air behind him. The next instant, he was airborne, knocked off his feet by an almighty kick. All of his ribs were broken, and his life was snuffed out upon landing as if the cold ground had sucked the essence from his body.
Standing where Becker had just moments ago was a beastman, and his animal traits were on full display. A pair of wings adorned his back, each more than ten feet long. His feet were enlarged, his heels raised off the ground, and great talons replaced his simian toes. A long scarf hid his face, and he wore no armor.
He used his feet to pull off Chase’s mask, then muttered a curse in annoyance. The man was too old to be aiming for the academy, just some killer wanting to join in on the bloodbath. The beastman gave a flap of his mighty wings, propelling himself through the air towards Becker, and removed his mask, only to be once more disappointed. While Becker looked like an academy applicant, his face was too different from the beastman’s. Nobles’ letters of recommendation usually included a physical de***********ion of the candidates. He at least needed someone with a similar eye color to pass off as a candidate.
“What a waste.”
He took to the sky, searching for the next fight.
----------
“Ah, motherfuckers….”
The words were spoken from a mouth caked in dirt, resulting from sleeping face down in an alley. Foley groaned with every breath, trying to remember the last thing he saw.
‘Let’s see, I got to the bar, had a couple of drinks… something, something… those guys threw me out. Flying, flying, flying, ground.’
Normally, he would have slept till noon the next day, but a rock was poking him in the ribs and gave him only a shallow blackout. There was something else that woke him up. He felt like a wineskin about to burst. A dark alley was as good a place as any, so the young dwarf pissed on the side of the bar while cursing his cowardly enemies and the soil he’d bury them in. He staggered out of the alley, still tipsy. The city was as dark as a tomb, and the sounds of battle were little more than background noise. The clouds shifted, allowing more moonlight to light up the road. There appeared to be someone standing nearby.
“Oi!” he grunted. No response. “Oi!” he said again. The stranger had his back to Foley and was holding a sword. “Oi, you deaf bastard! Open your damn ears!”
The stranger looked over. He was tall and lanky, though he had broad shoulders and a masked face. “Shut your mouth, dwarf. Don’t you know how to play?”
“Just answer me the first time! Where’s an inn? I still got to sleep this off.”
The man approached, his steps quick and erratic due to his rage. “You’re ruining my night. One more word and I’ll have your tongue.”
“Just give me some directions and fuck off, then I won’t have to put the fear of God in you.”
The man swung his sword with a snarl, and what should have been a blade rending flesh was steel on steel. Rather than a sword, Foley defended with a metal-plated buckler. The man hissed in surprise, seeing what had only moments ago been unsteady legs turn into an unmoving brace. Foley didn’t appear to be challenged, and his speed was worrying. At a mere four feet, the intoxicated dwarf should have been at least knocked off balance.
“You’re insisting on a fisting, boy-o, and I am more than ready to make some terrible life choices right now,” Foley growled. In response, he closed the distance and hurled a powerful right hook, only to miss by a shameful margin. “Ah fuck.” The swordsman stepped back and lunged again with a downward slash. It was once more stopped by Foley’s shield, with no apparent effort expended on his end. “Let’s try this again.” He knocked the sword out of the way and went in before another punch, only to miss and hit nothing but air. “I swear, I’m usually better than this!”
His foe kept out of range and evaluated his options. He couldn’t determine whether Foley was just putting on an act or not. He seemed like he could barely stand, but he was strong and fast, if only for a moment. It had to be a trap to lure him in.
As he sifted through his thoughts, Foley lowered his head and groaned. “Why is everything spinning?” He then vomited onto the road, to the disgust of his enemy. “Goddamn clams. I knew they smelled off.”
He wasn’t faking it, and even if he was, the swordsman had now found the good fight he was looking for. He charged in, swinging his blade at Foley from all angles with deadly speed, yet the dwarf blocked every attack. On the other hand, every punch hit nothing but air.
“Ah fuck it. Spider Shield!” The buckler on his arm began to glow, and when his enemy once more swung his sword, he realized that he couldn’t pull away. The blade was stuck to the shield’s surface as if with magnetism. “Gotcha now, you slippery chickenshit!”
It was the first accurate punch Foley managed to throw, his boulder-like fist finding its mark and striking the man’s balls. A scream was released, its initial pitch like a little girl stung by a bee, then dropping to a bull groaning from a stomach ache. The man fell to the ground, releasing his sword to tend to his crushed pride.
“Oh gods, why would you do that? WHY?!”
“Ah, quit your bitchin’.”
Foley grabbed him by the collar, and before the man could react, the dwarf headbutted him with dizzying force, breaking his nose in the process. The first blow, like a mountain goat’s horns, became a woodpecker’s barrage. Foley struck him repeatedly, with every blow bloodying the man’s mask. Foley eventually dropped him so he could catch his breath.
“That’s for insulting my ma! Or was that those other guys? Who are you again?”
“Halt! Nobody move!”
Foley looked over his shoulder to see an amber-haired woman approaching, garbed in polished armor and holding a sword in one hand and a torch in the other. She was in her early twenties, just a few years older than Foley. Her sudden arrival sent Foley’s fallen enemy scrambling to his feet and limping off to fight another day.
“State your name!” she barked.
“I don’t know what backwater village you come from, but where I come from, people give their name before asking for others.”
“Well, here in Uther, when a knight asks you your name, you damn well better give it.”
“I’m Jim Foley, happy now?”
“I am Lady Helena Frigga, silver-ranked member of the Utheric Knight Order, and it’s my job to arrest blood-drunk fools like you.”
“Hey, I’m only the fun kind of drunk!”
“Either way, fighting in the streets is illegal. I’m taking you in.”
“That ladyboy with the pigsticker tried to rob me, you daft cunt!”
She kicked him in the chest, sending him rolling across the ground onto his back. “Consider yourself under arrest, damn bastard. You’re lucky I don’t take your head for that little remark. Any last words?”
Foley slowly got back to his feet and staggered over to her, hunched over and struggling to breathe. “Three, actually.” He dropped his head and emptied the contents of his stomach onto her feet. “Ugh! Fucking clams!”
----------
Five figures stood atop a tower near the castle, garbed in cloaks and masks. Unlike the simple cloth disguises the brawlers in the street were using, these were white ceramic, each depicting doll-like hollow faces and decorated with three lines of a foreign language, like pseudo tattoos. The letters and their locations varied from mask to mask.
“Track Grond down, kill any witnesses,” said the leader, standing in the middle of the group.
“What about participants in the Red Revelry?” a woman to his side asked.
“Avoid if possible and kill when needed.”
“We should take this chance to enjoy ourselves. The knights are busy dealing with their own applicants. We can do whatever we want, and they’ll never know we were here,” the tallest member of the group said.
“We have our orders: in and out without any contact. We can’t let anyone know we were here,” another argued.
“We’ll be killing witnesses anyway. What’s wrong with having some fun if there is no one around to see it? Besides, it’s always good to practice when you can. You have to love what you do.”
“Oritz, silence yourself,” the leader barked. “Your soul is filthy.”
“Relax, I’ll keep my eye out for Grond. I’ll even bring you his head.”
“Were you not even paying attention to our orders?” the woman hissed as she stepped towards Oritz.
The leader stopped her. “Tora, Oritz, that’s enough. We’re just here to retrieve the elixir before Grond ends up using it. It’s our job to save him, not kill him. You will follow orders.”
“Whatever you say.”
The five figures then scattered to different sections of the city.
----------
“I should probably head back and untie Bella.”
Noah repeatedly muttered those words to himself, much in the way he would search for the motivation to get out of bed in the morning, and every step he took was another tap of the snooze button. He was halfway through his mana reserves but wanted to continue his walk. He had already witnessed multiple clashes between applicants, as well as any knights who tried to intervene.
These collisions occurred as quietly as possible, no matter who took part. No alarms, whistles, or drums were sounding, and no one was using magic aside from a few warrior and monk spells. Noah studied everyone’s styles, searching for patterns, weaknesses, and any moves he could add to his own repertoire. His magic let him observe the fights from up close without anyone knowing, the perfect spectator’s spell. He never released it or dropped his guard, even while crouched in the darkest alleys or perched above the quietest streets.
At the moment, he was watching a pair of swordsmen duel on top of a building. Every inch of skin was covered, and their tightened clothes prevented any flapping that might hinder them or give them away. The only way to tell them apart was by the type of swords they were wielding. Their moves were slick and unending, neither stopping to calculate nor reassess. When one felt at a disadvantage, he’d dart away to another rooftop, and they’d collide again on a different footing. The moonlight gleamed on their bloody blades, and the sparks from the colliding edges were like flashes of starlight.
Noah studied every detail of the moment, from which hand the swordsmen favored to the humidity of the evening. He’d scrutinize them with near-obsessive focus, trying to figure out how they contributed to the scene before him and then elaborating on how they came to be.
He’d guess what the two fighters were thinking and look for any hints as to the kind of men they were outside of battle. How had they been raised? What brought them to fight like this? For something to entertain him like this was rare. So many factors had come together to produce this peculiar event, so many experiences and emotions; it was like it had its own soul. Noah felt more interested in the souls of moments than the souls of people.
Whoosh! An arrow flew over his shoulder, striking one of the swordsmen in the chest. Noah spun around, spotting an armored knight perched atop a street lamp with a bow in his hands. Noah worried that his invisibility had come undone, but the spell was working as it should. Regardless, he rolled out of the way as another arrow flew by and pierced the second warrior’s shoulder. The first had already collapsed, but the second could still escape.
The warrior jumped off the roof into the street below and took off, weaving through the shadows. The knight was already in pursuit, and Noah, wanting to see how it would end, joined in the chase. He stuck to the rooftops while the warrior and knight sprinted down the streets. The warrior had a shrinking head start, and the knight launched an arrow at every opportunity. Beneath the vulture’s gaze, the hyena succumbed to the lion’s claws.
The knight departed with the warrior’s body, and Noah stepped down into the street only when everything was silent. The result was rather disappointing. He had been hoping the warrior would put up more of a fight.
‘My mana is getting low. I guess I should head back to Bella.’
He began the trip back to the Knight’s Sheath, but his mind was eventually pulled from Bella and drawn to another girl; her voice was even more pained and fearful. He looked into the nearby alley, seeing a cloaked man on top of a homeless woman, covering her mouth with one hand, and ripping at her clothes with the other. He stood and watched while his mind formulated a decision. Beneath the film of magic, the violent scene was reflected in his indifferent eyes, while his breathing and heartbeat were calm as could be.
A dark voice began to stir. ‘Is there any way this can benefit me? I’m pretty sure she can’t reward me with anything of value.’
Then there was another. ‘Besides, I’m taking a big enough risk just being out in the streets invisible. Either I drop my magic and expose myself, or I kill him, and she spreads the rumor of an invisible guardian angel. Any action I take could lead to someone identifying my magic and using it against me.’
And a third. ‘I’ll just let the knights deal with this. This isn’t worth my time.’
He couldn’t find a beneficial reason to get involved, but when the voices came, his rule was to disobey. Noah strolled over to the man, pulled back his hood, and plunged a dagger into his brain stem. Death was instantaneous, the man collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
He kept the man’s head pulled back so that the young woman could get out from under him, but fear and shock had taken her ability to move. Noah would have to do something to calm her. He didn’t want to break his invisibility, so he summoned his clone to speak through. When it appeared, she screamed in terror and finally managed to get to her feet, leaving Noah confused.
True, someone suddenly appearing out of thin air would have been shocking, but she should have shown some relief that she was saved. When Noah looked down at the body, he realized something was different. His hand, gripping the man’s skull, was no longer his own. His illusory clone had taken on the man’s appearance, from his robes to his mask. Noah examined his new appearance with shock.
His magic hadn’t displayed any kind of evolution since he learned his second spell. Was this an ability he had always possessed or something he had just unlocked? Either way, the mana expenditure was much higher, twice that of his regular clone’s appearance. He released his invisibility, now disguised only in the illusion. This had to be studied while it lasted.
‘How did this happen? What triggered it? I’ve killed several men while invisible, but I don’t feel like I can take their forms. I activated my spell while I was making contact with him. Have I ever done that before? No, it must be a condition to activate the spell this way. Are there any other conditions?’
He looked at his hands and rubbed them together. He felt greasy, as if he hadn’t bathed in a week. His mana, which enveloped him like an aura, was corrupted. Noah could see the last wisps of energy coming from his corpse. Was this supposed to happen? Was this a new ability or a revealed weakness? He began to lean towards the latter, soon realizing that he couldn’t separate from his clone. He should have been able to control its movements separately from his own like a puppet, but the mana remained stuck to him. He put his hand over his eye and found that the spell would not deactivate.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he hissed.
If this was because of the body he either had to get away from it, or possibly wait until total cell death. On the other hand, if he didn’t break the spell, his mana would continue to deplete, and once he was empty, he’d be vulnerable to attackers. Either way, it was time to return to the Knight’s Sheath, but first, the spoils of victory.
He took a minute to loot the man’s corpse, collecting various daggers, vials of unknown concoctions, and a few scrolls. He slipped out of the alley and began running down the dark street, retracing his steps to the brothel. It seemed he had wandered farther than he thought.
Light and heat; they came so suddenly that Noah barely managed to dodge. The source was a towering knight, his face concealed by his helmet, with his extended finger acting as a flamethrower. These flames, conjured by magic, were a raging crimson, like boiling blood. Noah had seen a few knights since coming to this world and even found a set of one’s armor in a goblin tunnel. From appearance alone, that poor schmuck was nothing compared to the man Noah faced.
According to the metal emblem attached to his armor, he was a gold-rank knight, equal in authority to a general. His armor was heavier and more encompassing, leaving nothing exposed. He was less of an armored knight and more like a walking tank. Even if Noah’s magic was working, he didn’t have anything that could break through his defenses or withstand those flame attacks. This was one of the worst-case scenarios.
“Not one more step, filthy vermin,” the knight ordered.
“I don’t want any trouble, nor do I take part in the fighting. I am simply an observer.” Not only his appearance, but his voice now matched the slain man’s.
“No one who wears a Harajin mask can be innocent. Your life was forfeit the moment you stepped into my city.”
The knight began to approach and drew a large battle axe that screamed ‘execution.’
“I was sent to deliver a peace accord to your king. If you kill a messenger, it will cause a catastrophe.”
“Shut up and die!”
The knight charged towards Noah and swung his axe. Noah dodged the first attack and then the second, this time from the side. He was fast, monstrously so, pursuing Noah with a ferocity that left him barely able to dodge. He had a long reach, and every fall of his axe split the ground. Noah kept his distance, studying the knight’s moves. He conjured a sword from within his ring that matched the armor he had found in the goblin tunnel. He finally took a chance and blocked one of the swings while exposing the blade and the runes etched into the steel.
“Look! This sword was entrusted to me by the knight who met me at the harbor. He said it would grant me safe passage. You’re getting in the way!”
Regardless, the berserker pushed him back, and flames began streaming from the openings of his helmet. “You really think me to be such a fool? You think others haven’t lied to try to escape their judgment? I am the royal executioner. My job isn’t to listen or show mercy; it’s to end the life of whoever is put before me!” He released one hand from his axe and pointed his finger at Noah. “And unfortunately for you, my passion for it burns quite fiercely.”
Noah cursed as a ball of flame appeared at the tip of his finger and dodged to the side. He tried to move into the knight’s blind spot, but the move was anticipated, and a jet of flame poured over him. Noah shielded his head with his arm, and it took the full brunt of the inferno. He rolled out of the fire and back on his feet to try to open up some space. Any flammable substance between him and the knight was now burning.
Noah’s right arm was no longer usable. Though his disguise remained unchanged, the burns were 3rd degree, and everything was either numb from the incinerated nerve endings or sending pain signals to his brain that nearly made him retch. In addition, all the moisture in the damaged tissue had vaporized, leaving smoke and steam wafting from his arm. With his mana depleting, he could barely stand, and his body would likely go into shock soon. Things had taken a turn for the worse.
“Using big fire spells in the city streets is a bit risky, wouldn’t you say?”
“You think I would be out here if I couldn’t control my power?” He waved his hand, and the flames between them were sucked into his palm. “You and you alone will burn.”
“Everyone else has been keeping this quiet. You’re burning the curtain that you’re supposed to keep the citizens from looking behind.”
“Good, I want them to see this. I want them to see the flames, to hear the screams of the guilty as I rain my fury upon them. Let them look upon the ashes of your execution and know that it is the fate of anyone who breaks Uther’s laws.”
The guy was a lunatic, and that fact was more dangerous than any spell he could possibly conjure. However, Noah was ready. He returned his sword to his ring and retrieved one of the daggers he had taken from the masked man. He lobbed the dagger up into the air towards the knight, and as soon as it left his hand, he conjured a second and repeated the throw, throwing it straight. The knight charged and managed to deflect them both to his credit. While retreating, Noah hurled the third dagger. The knight ignored it and let it bounce off his chest plate, the same with the fourth. He formed a pattern, now to break it.
One final throw, not that the knight cared. It was a glass vial, and he realized something was wrong when its contents splattered on his armor. “Poison!” he cursed. That first breath knocked him off balance, the second breath brought the pain, and the third scrambled his thoughts.
That window sent him sprinting into the dark alleys, trying to put in as much distance as possible. While he ran, he drank a health potion, his last. He had meant to buy more, but wasted too much time at the church. His burnt arm went from searing to itching as new flesh generated. Unfortunately, one potion was not enough to restore the damage, and it merely covered the afflicted areas with scar tissue, pacifying his exposed nerve endings. His arm was still unusable and would have to wait.
He had passed through this area earlier and made a beeline for an exposed crawl space under a shop. As soon as he hit the ground, his mana ran out, and his illusion broke. It was a little close for comfort, but he timed it well and had a moment to himself. After catching his breath, he gulped his last mana potion to restore a bit of his strength and then cast his invisibility. This crawl space wasn't safe with these knights and killers prowling around. He had to get back to the Knight’s Sheath. He returned to the streets and hurried to his destination while ignoring everything else in the city.
Despite his wounded arm and near-death battle, this night had been a success. Encountering that knight and various other enemies had hammered in the fact that his offense and defense left a lot to be desired. As a fighter specializing in stealth, they were his main weakness. He’d have to find some technique or barrier to protect him, especially from spells that affected large areas, and a means of punching through heavy armor. His injuries showed him what he needed to improve on, and he had discovered a new manifestation of his magic. These were two vital pieces of information.
He arrived at the Knight’s Sheath to find all the doors locked and no candles burning inside. All the customers had either gone home or were sound asleep, and the staff was unavailable to help. Noah circled the building and stopped at the windows of the back room. Earlier, Daniel claimed he was sleeping there. The window was high up, but Noah was at least able to tap on the glass. It took more than a minute of persistence to hear movement inside. Finally, the window opened, and Daniel stuck his head out, still half asleep.
“Huh? Noah? What are you doing out there?”
“I was craving a walk in the moonlight. Care to let me in?”
“I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I have the authority to unlock the front door, let alone open it. I could lose my job if I let someone in after hours.”
“Well then, you’re going to have to deal with Bella, because I tied her to the bed, stuck a candle in her ass, and told her I would be back soon.”
“You did what? Jesus fucking Christ, dude!”
“Quiet! Just hoist me up through the window.”
“Fine, give me your hands.”
“I can only do one; the other is injured.”
“Fucking perfect.”
It was a grueling task that left both men sweaty and bruised, but Daniel lifted Noah up by his good arm and pulled him through the window. He landed rather ungracefully on Daniel’s cot and got to his feet.
“Thanks.”
“Sure thing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to sleep. Some of us have work tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Noah strolled into the parlor and made his way to Bella’s room. Inside, he found her asleep in the same position he had left her in. The candle had fallen out, probably for the best. He managed to untie her with his good hand, though it took some effort. He was about to climb into bed when an idea struck him.
He reactivated his invisibility, no longer feeling the presence of that foreign mana, and when he summoned his clone, it appeared in his image. He dispelled the clone, rested his injured hand on Bella’s back, and then cast it again, and his clone still took its normal appearance.
Nice! It got a little confusing with all the knights running around in the dark, but otherwise pretty decent. I'm enjoying the "accidental assassin" thing Noah's building up to. Post more chapters!
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