Chapter 86: Assassination II

CH86 Assassination II

***

Without caring for the close distance, Alex casted another spell.

Grade 2: Fireball.

It wasn’t the strongest version he could unleash, but at the less-than-five-metre distance between him and the axeman, it didn’t need to be.

The explosion that followed blasted them both apart.

Alex slammed hard into the alley wall behind him, his back lighting up with pain.

When the dust settled, he saw the axeman had been thrown a distance away—slumped against the opposite wall, seated upright, with a jagged metal rod impaled through his chest. Likely a shrapnel fragment from something in the alley, dislodged by the blast.

The wound was severe. Fatal, eventually.

But Alex wasn’t in good shape either.

His breathing was ragged, and his entire body ached. Even with his Everspring Rune and Light-attribute mana working to heal him, recovery would take time.

His Spirit Sight revealed the axeman still lived.

Even after eating a Fireball—even a weak, Beginner-tier one—and getting skewered... he’s still alive.

Alex’s crimson eyes flared with rage.

’You tried to kill me.’

He wasn’t about to give this bastard even the slightest chance at survival.

Against all better judgement, Alex drew upon the mana that should’ve been circulating to mend his injuries and diverted it instead into a spell. His Beta Bracer moved to enhance the spell.

Grade 3: Fire Bolt.

’Die!’

A wrathful Alex hurled the upgraded spell.

Arghhh!!

The bolt struck the axeman square in the chest, igniting him in flame.

He screamed. The fire ate through his flesh.

His throat closed as the smoke from his own burning flesh poured in. He choked—gagging, retching—before finally slumping over, lifeless.

The stench of charred flesh filled the air.

Alex’s vision wobbled.

He scanned the area.

No more mana signatures.

But he still refused to relax.

Stay awake. Stay alert.

And then—finally—his three knight escorts came rushing towards him.

Though the battle had seemed long and chaotic, it had only lasted moments. The knights had handled their own attackers as quickly as they could, but for Alex, those brief seconds had been life-threatening.

Indeed, there was no replacement for personal strength.

If he had been weak—even with elite guards—he’d be dead.

His vision began to tunnel.

He tried to resist the blackness creeping in, but his limbs were growing heavy.

His hand dropped to the ground, and that was when he noticed something else—

Blood.

He was bleeding from his back.

A small pool of blood had already formed where he sat.

He felt cold.

At first, he assumed it was due to blood loss.

But then—

—he sensed something else.

Sinister.

Chilling.

Familiar.

The same sensation from when the first assassin struck.

Alex’s crimson eyes narrowed.

This wasn’t just cold...

This was—killing intent.

But the only people around him were the knights assigned to protect him.

Alex looked up, vision narrowing into a black tunnel.

Through the dimming haze, he saw the nearest knight—the young one who had suggested the stroll away from the inn—stealthily pull a dagger, angled for a fatal thrust, hidden from the other knights’ view.

’Ah... I see now. Never grow complacent, huh...’

That was all Alex had time to think.

The dagger was poised for his heart. There was nothing the others could do in time to stop it.

Swoosh!

Just as the blade descended, Alex heard the sharp whistle of steel cutting through the air.

A hulking figure in pitch-black armour landed in front of him—an unshakable wall of protection. The traitorous knight’s corpse hit the ground at the giant’s feet, throat cut clean.

"You dare raise your blade to your liege!" the towering figure bellowed.

Stomp! Mush!

He lifted one trunk-like leg and brought it down with devastating force, smashing the traitor’s skull into pulp.

Alex looked up weakly, trying to keep his eyes open.

"Took you long enough to step in... Jared."

The Dark Knight turned to him, impassive. "You looked like you had everything under control."

He didn’t bother to deny that he’d been nearby the entire time—that he could’ve intervened earlier.

His words were both infuriating and oddly funny. Alex gave a pained chuckle, laced with both rage and dark amusement.

"I didn’t know you had a sense of humour, Jared. It’s a sick one."

"Don’t speak. You’ll only aggravate your injuries."

Jared sheathed his longsword and crouched to inspect the young mage’s condition.

"If one didn’t know better, they might think you actually cared," Alex muttered. "Or that you didn’t just use me as bait to lure out the assassins."

But he wasn’t just making conversation.

He was using the dialogue to focus—to stay awake long enough for his Everspring Rune and the OmniRune’s mana gathering function to replenish enough energy for a spell.

Suddenly, Alex’s eyes lit up with a flicker of surprise.

The synergy between the two Greater Runes was stronger than expected, drastically accelerating his recovery rate.

Just enough...

Healing!

He cast a basic healing spell—enough to stabilise his condition and allow movement. Then, reaching into his satchel, he retrieved an Enclave-grade healing potion.

The container, unlike standard potions, had survived his earlier tumbles. Despite his violent motions, the magical glass vial had only cracked—whereas the container of the local potions shattered and spilled their contents into his bag.

Alex downed the potion in one go.

A refreshing warmth spread through him as the healing took effect. External wounds sealed shut, internal bleeding ceased, and vital functions steadied.

A few days’ rest, and he’d be back to full strength.

"Truly a steal," Alex murmured, smacking his lips.

He turned back to Jared, who gave a small nod after inspecting him.

"Hope you’ve rounded up the rest," Alex said. "I know my father told you to let me experience combat—but I doubt he meant to actually let me die. I’m in no condition to go another round. One more ambush, and I really will die."

Jared looked at the youth who so closely resembled his liege.

He was almost unrecognisable from the brat he had once escorted to the Mage Tower. Not just older in appearance—Alex now carried himself with a maturity, poise, and quiet confidence that rivalled the Mad Earl’s in his younger days.

Even though his voice was weak, his eyes told another story. Jared didn’t doubt that the boy would have fought to his last breath—dragging his enemy into death with him if need be.

Even when Jared intervened, Alex had been ready. Weakened as he was, he had still prepared to overdraft his remaining mana to retaliate against the traitor knight’s attack.

Even if the knight had succeeded in killing Alex, he would not have survived unscathed. He would have been gravely injured—if not killed outright.

’Indeed, a King Tiger doesn’t beget a pussycat,’ Jared mused to himself.

***