Dotta crept into an alley, holding his breath. Overhead, sacred seal–powered streetlights bathed the nighttime scene in an ethereal bluish-white radiance, illuminating snowflakes that seemed destined to keep falling until dawn.
It’s cold. Let’s just get this over with.
Escaping the military camp had been easy for him. All he’d needed were a few scraps of cloth and a bent piece of metal to put together a grappling hook. With that, he’d scaled the wall and hopped over the spikes at its summit without issue. And there were always gaps in the soldiers’ patrols.
He’d only been worried about one thing: He wasn’t alone that night. He’d been concerned his companion would slow him down, but the guy was surprisingly nimble for his size.
“All right, there’s nobody here,” said Dotta. “We should be okay.”
Rhyno followed him with an agility that belied his large frame. He had wrapped a reddish-brown scarf around his mouth and had on a hat and goggles, like the ones Jayce usually wore. Dotta was dressed similarly.
“I wonder if Lady Trishil is really asleep?” mused Rhyno.
“She has to be, after how much she drank… I hope.”
Dotta thought about all the booze he’d wasted getting Trishil drunk.
That was some really expensive stuff. I’d been looking forward to it, too…
It was whiskey made in the north under the Eard family’s brand name, Sparkling Violet—a rare find and at a fine age of about twenty years.
“Good. I’ve heard she’s in possession of a rather special eye,” said Rhyno, nodding emphatically. He was leaving deep tracks in the snow behind him.
“Her stigma gives her the ability to see a target from really far away, right?”
“That’s what she told me, at least. Isn’t that terrifying?”
“Yeah…”
Rhyno always spoke in a monotone, making it difficult to gauge his true thoughts. However, his last statement sounded unmistakably sincere.
“At any rate, let’s go over the plan one more time,” he said.
“Come on, I know what to do… We’re going to sneak into this…Yubaet Ludmischen guy’s mansion and make sure he’s useless during tomorrow’s tournament, right?”
Yubaet would be their first target. He was the first one Dotta would have to face, after all. They couldn’t waste too much time on him, either; they had a lot of tough foes to take out that night.
I can’t believe we only have until tomorrow. There’s hardly any time…
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Dotta tugged his forest-green scarf up over his nose.
“We have to be efficient… We can’t kill him, though, Rhyno, okay?”
“But of course. Murdering people is bad. It would probably cause a huge fuss, and his unit would only find someone else to represent them.”
Yubaet Ludmischen was part of a military unit outside of the Holy Knights. Apparently, he belonged to the Abanekka Front, Unit 381, a force stationed in the north. They had to be careful not to injure him too badly, since there were plenty of others who could take his place.
“We should also refrain from simply breaking his bones and injuring him, since that could result in a substitution, too. This is a surprisingly complicated task, and I’m afraid I haven’t come up with a single good idea yet.”
“That’s why we’re gonna go with poison.” Dotta reached into his pocket and produced a handful of small bottles. “Our best chance to stop him is this powerful laxative. All we need to do is slip some into tomorrow’s breakfast.”
“Interesting! Nonlethal poison! What a wonderful idea, Comrade Dotta. Your wisdom has left me in awe.”
“And this little bottle has a poison that leaves you extremely lethargic, like you’ve caught a cold.”
“Fascinating.”
“And this one makes you extremely nauseous, though it takes a little while to set in…”
“Impressive.” Rhyno was actually clapping, albeit softly. Is this guy for real? Dotta wondered.
“…Of course, I wouldn’t mind giving him a good ass-kicking if we get the chance, though.”
“Yes, a few bruises should weaken him up quite a bit.”
“Yeah, but…that’s probably not a good idea. They say really skilled fighters can sense the presence of others even when they’re sleeping.”
“You will be fine, Comrade Dotta. Your ability to remain undetected is extraordinary. I believe you would find it easy to hurt someone while they are sleeping.”
“I don’t know. I tried to kick Xylo in his sleep once, and he grabbed my leg and gave me a beating I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”
“Comrade Xylo is the exception. He—”
Rhyno started to say something but abruptly stopped. Dotta had noticed it, too. Something was off.
What’s that sound?
They could hear noises—and in the dead of night, in an upscale residential district in the First Capital. There was shouting and the clanging of metal. The sound of snow crunching roughly beneath someone’s feet. Dotta listened intently.
“I hear fighting,” Rhyno said. “Over there.”
Dotta unconsciously turned toward the direction in which Rhyno was pointing. Around the corner and down a long street lined with walls of white stone was an overturned carriage. Its wheels had been shattered, and black smoke was rising from the wreckage.
What the…? What happened?
Near the carriage, Dotta could make out human figures—several of them. Squinting into the darkness, he focused on their silhouettes rather than on their faces. He counted seven of them. One surrounded by six others, and at the feet of the central figure, he saw three or four bodies lying motionless. Dotta instinctively knew they were dead…and the realization sent a shiver down his spine.
“Wh-wh-what the heck going on?” he said, panicking. “What happened over there?!”
“Yes, this is surprising… Perhaps someone had the same idea as we did?” Rhyno tilted his head casually, as if in thought. “Because that’s definitely our target. The others have surrounded him and are attacking.”
“Huh?! What? Why?!”
“It appears Yubaet Ludmischen was ambushed.”
“Does that mean…?”
A surge of excitement coursed through Dotta. Could this be his lucky day? Yubaet Ludmischen was fending off his attackers with a single sword, his back pressed against the wall. Though he was putting up a brave fight, it was clear he had already sustained injuries.
“All we have to do is sit back and watch while they take care of him for us. Yesss!”
“I don’t think it will be so easy…” Rhyno’s voice had a peculiar dryness to it. “It appears they are trying to kill Sir Yubaet, I’m afraid.”
“That’s bad!” Dotta shouted. “If that happens, they’ll just send someone else in his place! And we don’t have time to deal with anyone else!”
“I agree.”
“W-w-we…!” Dotta gulped. “We have to save him!”
He didn’t like it, but they had no other choice. They had to save Yubaet Ludmischen. He was outnumbered already, and if they didn’t step in, he’d surely be killed. And then they’d have no time to thwart his replacement.
Why was Yubaet Ludmischen outside so late at night anyway? Were the soldiers that busy? Or was there something else going on? And why were these other people attacking him?
Dotta couldn’t explain any of it, but one thing was clear: He needed to act immediately.
“I agree! Saving him is a wonderful idea, Comrade Dotta.” Rhyno smiled from ear to ear. “I was actually about to suggest the very same thing.”
Dotta was baffled by Rhyno’s easygoing attitude. It felt unfair that he was so stressed, when no one else was. He wanted the ones responsible for this—and Rhyno, too—to experience even a fraction of his anxiety. And so he gave Rhyno the most dangerous role of all.
“Sure! Whatever! Just hurry! You attack from the front!” Dotta braced his foot against the wall. “I’ll attack from above.”
Kicking off, Dotta propelled himself upward. By using the small hooks on the soles of his boots and fingertips and the sacred seal engraved in his gloves to enhance his grip, Dotta could scale most vertical walls with ease. Running along them in short bursts was also well within his capabilities.
Meanwhile, Rhyno charged forward, kicking up a flurry of snow as he drew the enemies’ attention.
“Pardon me,” he stated politely, before launching himself into the heart of the fray.
In his right hand, he held a short iron rod—a weapon Dotta hadn’t even noticed he had. And with a powerful swing, he struck the temple of one of the assailants as he turned to face him. The man immediately collapsed with a heavy thud.
“What the…?!” exclaimed one of the man’s fellows. The forced bravado in his voice was obvious.
Dotta leaped off the wall, taking the large, black-masked man completely by surprise and wrapping his arm around the man’s neck. The fight was already over.
Ugh.
In one swift motion, Dotta drove his knife into the masked man’s throat, staining the pristine snow with an arc of crimson liquid. Then, almost as an afterthought, he plunged the blade into the man’s chest. The weapon was partially blocked by the man’s rib cage, and the wound was clumsy.
I hate this feeling.
Dotta loathed killing for two reasons. The first was the visceral disgust he felt; he couldn’t even stomach butchering meat. The second was the inevitable aftermath. There were always repercussions. People got angry, and sometimes they even retaliated. And having to dispose of the body was the cherry on top of the miserable ordeal.