The thieves were alive; they kept their lives… the only thing they lost was their supply of food and their freedom. After this, they were going to be sves.

  And the boy just vanished.

  “41 of them… that’s a lot. Luckily, we have enough ropes for them…” Kiara said as they rounded up the thieves.

  Diana sighed; it would be a lot of expining with her mother.

  She could actually just execute them, but she didn’t have the heart. The thieves called themselves the Bloody Axe, newly named thieves who terrorized the eastern frontier. They were probably the lowest of the low in the thief's group.

  “Princess... we are ready,” one of the attendants, bowing respectfully, said. Her name was Amiya Shiraiko. She was the leader of the knights who stayed to protect the caravan. Unlike normal knights who used straight swords, she wields a curved edge. She was one year younger than Princess Diana, and she had trim bck bob hair.

  “Amiya, how’s your first mission?” Diana was friendly to Amiya since she was still settling in as her attendant.

  But Amiya was always formal with the princess.

  “I’m okay, Princess Diana. Don’t worry about me,” Amiya said with another bow. As she straightened, she noticed the heavy humidity in the air. “Princess, it’s going to rain,” she said softly, her tone carrying a hint of nostalgia—a rare reaction from her.

  Diana smiled, she just wished that Amiya would treat her more like a friend since they were in the same age range. “Let us go then!” sighing, she entered her carriage.

  The caravan started to move with 41 thieves in tow. They would be made into working sves for the rest of their lives, in mines or probably on the construction of the kingdom’s buildings.

  After the fun detour, Simon felt satisfied. He pnned to sleep on a tree branch to heal his wounds. He didn’t know exactly how the healing worked, but both he and the old man knew that sleep activated this strange ability. He walked around, searching for a good spot.

  He then remembered the look on the blonde girl at him. ‘I shouldn’t have shown them my eyes,’ Simon thought.

  ‘But that fight was good.’

  A smile tugged at my lips, unbidden. That assassin was great; it was rare to find that caliber of fight. I could still feel the adrenaline rush from the fight. It's been so long since I had a good battle like that.

  The sword of the old man was still in my hand, already sheathed. I pulled it out from its sheath, checking it out. I’m probably going to break this sooner or ter. I could still remember how dimly it glowed when the old man was swinging it. Then I stopped as I remembered something I should have done. I should have picked up some of the thieves’ silver too!

  I breathed deeply, letting go of my mistakes and moving on forward, at least I got their food supplies! I’m going to have a feast tonight!

  “Spsh!”

  Then I felt something in my head, the wind suddenly blew a damp air. I knew it was going to rain. It was a bit disappointing, but when it rains, it is hard to cook. And I still have to stitch my clothes!

  So I looked around and found a good branch. I jumped over it, took out a rope, and tied myself to the branch. Maybe after the rain, I will be…

  But I remembered the face of the girl again. There was a gnawing feeling inside my chest that I couldn’t quite grasp the right words to expin. It was something that I didn’t feel when the old man was still with me when we traveled around.

  “Time to sleep then,” I muttered. I have been muttering so much to myself tely.

  A few days ter.

  It was already twilight. Three cloaked men prowled the battlefield where their comrade had disappeared. They moved silently, examining the remnants of the fight. #15—the fallen—was among the guild’s top assassins, a rank that few ever reached. Twenty numbers down signified elite status; to lose #15 was unthinkable.

  One of the assassins muttered, “Can’t believe #15 was defeated.”

  “But the report said the princess would be weakened after the ceremony… were we deceived?” another growled.

  “It doesn’t matter,” the third assassin cut in coldly. “We are the Assassin’s Guild; we crush anything that threatens our order.” He was the oldest out of the three; he was #4, and he was also the appointed leader of the 2 assassins, #32 and #51.

  Their mission was to investigate and, if possible, track and kill the one who had sin #15.

  Following the trail of #15’s st moments, a chilling realization emerged. Aside from his own magic and the lingering trace of a single fire arrow, there was nothing. Within the range of his shadow, #15 dominated long-range combat—leaving only one possibility.

  His killer had engaged him up close, without spells.

  Tracking such an opponent would be almost impossible. If they went back now and reported that they didn’t have any clues about what happened, then they would be reprimanded by the Guild Master of the Assassins Guild.

  “This is where he died,” #32 noted as he touched a pool of blood. It was what was left of #15. #32 was an expert tracker.

  “#4! Your arms are glowing!” #51, who was just standing beside their leader, warned.

  #4 opened up the bck garb that was covering his arms. The old insignia of the Assassins Guild was glowing. They all have the ‘stiletto and scythe’ tattoo, but #4, the veteran, had an older tattoo.

  #4 smiled in delight. ‘The younger generations didn’t know it, but the assassin’s guild was created for a greater purpose.’ He thought before facing the two. “Young ones… this is it… the two of you are promoted by 2 ranks,” the veteran said.

  #4 removed his cloak; he was old, and his weathered face told all the hardship he had been through. He was once a legendary assassin who haunted the underworld. He willfully touched the glowing tattoo. It was a circle with a dot in the center. The glow died, and it turned red.

  “Report everything that happened here, the guild master will understand it,” he said to his two apprentices.

  “Sir! Are you leaving the guild? They will hunt you down!” #32 warned with a gre.

  #4 smiled “#32, continue on, climb the ranks, and you will understand someday what happened here… this is goodbye!” With a sharp gre, he hit #32’s neck, knocking him out.

  #51 didn’t need words; he gently guided the fall of his comrade into the ground.

  “In the world of the assassins, brotherhood is the key to survival. Remember that,” a st lesson from the veteran to #51.

  “Yes, sir…” #51 said as the st generation of the oldest assassins left.