Chapter 41: Terror and Order
Almor, a trained killer for hire, moved like a phantom inside the gambling house. His target tonight was a wealthy merchant with deep pockets and even deeper enemies.
Another merchant had paid for the hit and Almor had been stalking his prey for a week now he was observing, waiting, sharpening his blade and resolve.
Tonight was the perfect opportunity as he saw the merchant inside, drowning in luxury and lust, tossing thousands of gold coins with reckless abandon.
Women fawned over him, dealers praised his luck just to make sure he continued to play till the inevitable defeat while the gamblers whispered about his streak. Eventually, the merchant rose after suffering from some defeats but still standing there unfazed, a woman was clinging to his arm, he smirked while bragging about how he would enjoy his night to his competitors.
Almor followed from the shadows, two poisoned daggers tucked inside his coat. The poison was a special blend, capable of liquefying internal organs with a single scratch.
His style was built on subtlety with small wounds, silent deaths. The only counter to such venom was magic or aura which were luxuries rarely possessed in a city drowned in crime.
But he was not alone in watching. As the merchant stepped into the cool night air, several guards emerged from nearby corners, flanking him instantly.
"You think I wouldn’t know?" The merchant sneered, groping the woman beside him, who let out a mock moan of delight. "Die, pest." He gestured to the guards and walked away, laughing, with the woman in his grasp.
Almor’s expression remained calm. He drew his daggers, prepared for a swift dance of death since such things were normal in his profession where he had to face numerous opponents after being caught.