Chapter 73: Myrra The Assassin
Myrra watched yet again as another head was separated from a body. This time, though, it was that of her father’s.
However. Instead of the pain of loss one would feel at losing a loved one, all she felt was extreme fear at the possibility that she would be next.
Tavian had adopted her in the course of one of his earlier assassination missions. Her actual father was the target of this mission, and he had killed him in front of her.
She would have been killed as well by Tavion, but she managed to convince him of the benefits of keeping her alive and taking her under him.
Her special skill was the final convincing factor that saved her that day, and helped most in convincing Tavian that she would be most helpful to him alive.
That was how the father-daughter small family of assassins came to be.
However, Myrra had been plotting a way to get her revenge on Tavian for killing her father.
But knowing he was much stronger than her, and her ability couldn’t even work on him, her cowardly nature prevented her from making a move just yet.
She had planned to do so when all the stars were aligned in her favor. However, the hero had beaten her to it.
She was currently experiencing mixed emotions of fear and gratitude, and fear was certainly the most palpable.
"There. All better now. So you were saying." Zorat muttered like hje had just taken out the trash, returning his attention to Myrra with a warm smile on his face.
A cold chill ran down Myrra’s spine as she swallowed hard, knowing her next words would decide her fate. "It was a man called Aeric..." she squeaked in response...
"According to father... well, late father, I guess... " she mumbled, shaking her head as she looked in horror in the direction of Tavian’s corpse.
"He said, this Aeric was the right-hand man of the Kingdom’s grand vizier.... Victor Malverin...."
"That’s ... that’s all I’ve heard, my lord," she added, going into the kneeling pose of exaggerated respectfulness yet again.
She hoped this would be enough to save her life; if not, she was done for.
Only one person could claim the position of the grand vizier’s right hand, and the image of the brooding man that Zorat had seen the day he was invited over by the grand vizier came to mind.
Zorat already had an incline to who might have ordered the assassination, and he was proven right.
Yet he wondered why the move came so quickly. He knew the man would make a move sooner or later, but since he’s been so cooperative with the grand vizier, Zorat thought it would be later.
But this does little to affect his plans in any way. If the assassins had attacked when he only had the space manipulation ability, he still wouldn’t have been hurt in any way, but his chances at counterattacking with lethal moves would have been limited.
Using his spatial skills in offense mode would require him to employ a spell that his current body couldn’t bear.
Spatial runes are considered supreme order runes for a reason.
Luckily, Zorat had gained an offense-specialized ability from Kaelara, and he had also upgraded it to the highest level possible below authority.
The only present limitation was his own physical body.
All in all, he was thankful to the assassins; he had gotten to decompress and rid himself of the lingering boredom that had plagued him for the past two day.
Now there was just one of them remaining.
Myrra was wrong about one thing, though. If you want a demon to keep their word... You’d better make sure it’s in the form of a binding demonic contract.
"I see," Zorat said as he brought back his attention to the young human lady. He assumed she would be young from the tempo of her voice, since she was still completely covered in black assassin regalia.
"So that’s all you know about this incident, correct?" he asked, and Myrra nodded nervously in affirmation.
"Very well. I will keep my word..."
"I won’t be lifting my hand to arm you..."
Zorat wasn’t born a demon with eight arms; he fashioned them himself to help communicate with more runes before he ascended as a being of authority.
Using hands to imitate runic patterns is the only way to communicate with runes for lower beings, that is, until a being ascends to become one of authority, and the mind alone, which is being governed by the soul, can do that at a rate of ten thousand times its former efficiency.
Eliminating the need for hand signs completely.
Zorat could use his mind to operate these runes, but that would be too burdensome on his current body, so he uses his hands to lighten the burden and soften the flow.
Still... for a single command of decapitation on the runic configuration that governs earth, his body can surely withstand the strain.
Thinking this, without moving his hands, the sand particles began moving yet again at tremendous speed from around him and straight at Myrra, who was wide-eyed in extreme shock...
"Wait wait wait... I can be your spy in the organization...please don’t kill me!!" Myrra screamed as the scream turned into a cry, with her plastering her face into the dirt in terror.
"That’s an interesting offer..." Zorat muttered, grinning as he stood up; the earth chair likewise disappeared from underneath him.
"But... you guys tried to kill me... An eye for an eye. hehehe."
Zorat already had his fun slaughtering the assassins who had earlier actively attacked him.
He felt no particular impulse to decapitate the one in front of him now... not to mention she’s just lying there defenseless.
She was also quite amusing with her desperation to preserve her life without actually pleading for him to show her mercy. He would have killed her immediately if she had done that.... He honestly could have it either way...
But it was cleaner this way.
"Most importantly...Myrra. You have nothing to offer me."
Hearing Zorat’s final words, a spark of renewed hope bloomed behind Myrra’s closed eyes. She recalled how she had survived the last time that Tavian had wanted to kill her when her father was assassinated.
Quickly, before the sand particles could cut through her neck, she screamed from the ground...
"I have a special skill. It’s SS-grade, Call of the Siren...."
"I can use it to serve you, my lord!!"
After saying that, she braced herself, as she could feel the whirling confluence of sand granules already grazing her neck.... But then it disappeared.
Myrra sighed in relief; it would appear her gamble had paid off.
But it was eerily quiet. The hero wasn’t saying anything. Confused, she raised her head slowly from the floor, cautiously... only to be met with the handsome, smiling face of the hero right in front of hers.
He was currently bent over and looking her directly in the eyes...
The next words that came out of him as he grinned, filled Myrra with equal parts hope and trepidation...
"I have a much better idea."