Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 371: Assassin

Norman, seeing the expressions on their faces, simply let out a short, amused laugh before he spoke again. ”If anything happens to it, I will know. Don’t worry,” he said confidently, as though the matter required no further discussion.

After a brief moment, Asher, William, and Finch exchanged glances and finally nodded, accepting his explanation. The trio silently concluded that whatever the reason was, it likely had something to do with Norman’s ability or some personal skill he had yet to reveal.

”If that was the last question, then it was lovely meeting the three of yo—” Norman began, but before he could finish his sentence, Asher suddenly cut him off.

”Who was that assassin who just walked in here?” Asher asked, his voice steady, almost casual, but his question sent a shock through the room.

Finch and William instantly frowned. Neither of them had seen an assassin. They had only seen a waiter.

Norman froze for a moment, then slowly turned toward Asher. A wide smile began to spread across his face, subtle and almost impressed. ”It seems you’re far more perceptive and sensitive than you let on,” he murmured, his dark eyes scanning Asher from head to toe as if reevaluating him.

”Yes,” Norman finally admitted, ”the waiter who entered the room a moment ago was an assassin. It was one of the reasons you were attacked the moment you opened the door earlier. Various assassins have tried that tactic previously, so when the door opened back then, we simply assumed it was another one of them attempting the same method. And, as you’ve already guessed, the drink and biscuits here are poisonous.”

As if on cue, Norman turned toward the woman who had attacked Asher earlier. ”Clara, go finish the assassin,” he instructed with a calm smile.

Clara nodded once. No words. No ceremony. She simply stepped back, and her body melted into the shadows beneath her feet as though she were dissolving into ink. Within seconds, she vanished completely.

Barely a moment passed before she reemerged from the same shadow, silent and unreadable. No blood. No dramatic entrance. Just cold efficiency. Norman didn’t even bother asking her anything, he already knew the answer. Instead, his eyes slid back toward Asher, the faintest hint of curiosity lingering in them.

Finch finally spoke, his brows furrowed in visible concern. ”Care to explain why assassins are after you?” He knew the implications immediately: if assassins were targeting them before the mission even began, then the journey had already doubled in difficulty.

”No need to overthink it,” Norman replied. ”They’re simply after the resources I brought for the frontier. I went on a spending spree before checking into this inn, so it’s difficult for people not to get tempted. By the time we leave the Barony, all this should end.”

Asher, William, and Finch slowly nodded. Norman’s explanation was a reasonable one. Frontier-bound military supplies were worth fortunes, especially to desperate thieves or opportunistic assassins.

”Now that we’re done with all that,” Norman continued, ”let’s talk about departure.”

Asher nodded his head slightly. ”When are we leaving?”

”Right now,” Norman responded without hesitation. ”It’s still early in the morning, and I don’t have the time or patience for another delay. Things could be getting worse at the frontier as we speak.”

Asher’s brows creased. That answer wasn’t unexpected, but it did provoke unease. His eyes shifted subtly toward Finch. Finch’s expression had tightened into a small, reluctant frown. Neither of them spoke. There was nothing they could say that would change the mind of a man with comrades waiting for him, comrades possibly dying by the minute. Every moment wasted here might mean another life lost.

Finch sighed inwardly. He, too, understood. ’Six days... seven if there are delays. I’ll be back,’ he reassured himself silently. He hadn’t seen his family for nearly two months. What was one more week?

Asher turned back toward Norman. His expression was firm. ”We are ready to leave.”

Norman nodded in approval. ”Since we are now one team, we should introduce ourselves properly. After all, we’ll be trusting each other with our lives on this journey. As you already know, my name is Norman.”

He gestured to the woman behind him. ”And this is C—”

”I’m Clara,” she cut in sharply, her tone flat and cold.

Norman only smiled patiently, unfazed. He then gestured to the three men behind her.

”Daniel.”

”Samuel.”

”Aiden.”

The three men introduced themselves one after another, their voices monotone and calm. Not a single unnecessary word left their mouths.

”Don’t mind them,” Norman said with a chuckle. ”They’re always like this. Also, you don’t need to worry about whether they’re mercenaries or adventurers who might abandon you mid-mission. They are... different.”

Asher, William, and Finch simply nodded, accepting the explanation without pushing further.

”Your turn,” Norman said, looking at them expectantly.

William spoke first. ”I’m William Canestane.”

The moment the name left his mouth, the expressions of Norman’s entire group changed instantly. Shock. Recognition. A hint of dread. They all knew the Canestane Barony; they weren’t ignorant.

”You mean...” Norman began carefully.

”Yes,” William interjected, ”I am the heir of the Canestane Barony.”

Finch smiled lightly and followed next. ”I’m Finch Whale.”

His words hit the group like a thunderclap. Their eyes widened. Their minds reeled back to when Finch had entered the room wearing a cloak. They had wondered why he was the only one concealing himself, and now everything made sense.

Norman, Clara, Daniel, Samuel, and Aiden all swallowed hard. Their thoughts spun wildly. How had they unknowingly ended up teaming up with two noble heirs? If anything happened to them, wouldn’t both the Canestane and Whale Baronies descend upon them in fury?

Their gazes slowly shifted toward Asher, almost pleading, hoping, praying, that he might at least be a commoner, someone unconnected to the aristocracy. But even that hope felt fragile and foolish. After all, how could a mere commoner lead two noble heirs?

”Asher Wargrave,” Asher said, tone flat and simple, as though he were stating the time of day.

Norman and his entire group froze. For a second, the world seemed to stop breathing.

A Wargrave.

Not just any noble house, but that house.

Norman shot to his feet so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor. He bowed deeply. ”I greet the Tenth Sun. If I have been disrespectful in any way until now, I beg for your forgiveness.”

Clara, Daniel, Samuel, and Aiden all bowed immediately after him. A Wargrave stood before them. Whatever confidence or indifference they had displayed earlier evaporated like morning mist.

Asher let out a quiet sigh. ”No need to overthink it. You weren’t disrespectful. Let’s simply start the mission.”

William and Finch exchanged looks, both trying not to laugh at the sudden shift. In their minds, they could already see the mission point reward rising, nine thousand points becoming twenty thousand or more, all because of the sheer weight of Asher’s existence.

Hearing Asher’s words, Norman and his team exhaled in relief, quiet but intense. Everyone in the Empire knew the Wargrave name. Everyone knew that the slightest offense could mean death, or worse.

Clara felt sweat trickling down her back, soaking into her clothes. Her heart thumped against her ribcage as the realization fully struck her.

She had attacked a Wargrave.

Her blood ran cold.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: It’s a new month... gift me those juicy golden tickets... pretty please.