Chapter 241: Time to Kill the Orc Lord

Luke studied the situation carefully. He was in his work area as a woodcutter, the forest where his group usually labored. Normally, a few Bastion soldiers patrolled the grounds to protect the workers, but something was off. There were far more soldiers here than there should have been. And worse, Kruger had arrived, flanked by his assassins with shadow powers.

“We’re here for an identity inspection,” one of the soldiers announced.

The chance of it being a trap is high, but if it really were a trap, would they let themselves be seen by me like this?

Luke’s gaze lingered on the assassins. A part of him burned to cut Kruger down right then and there, to slaughter all of them. They were the worst kind of threat in Bastion. His infiltration skills, his stealth, it wasn’t Luke who feared them, but the chaos Kruger could unleash. If he seized the second fortress and pushed toward Haven, assassins like those would become a serious problem.

For days now, while spying on Bastion, Luke had prayed for a chance encounter with Kruger, just to follow him beyond the Safe Zone and finish him. But the Assassin Phantom had never appeared. If he was in Bastion, he hadn’t left once. Luke couldn’t confirm it with absolute certainty, but he’d overheard enough in the tavern to track Bastion’s movements. Someone as conspicuous as Kruger stepping outside would have been noticed.

Then again… there was the other possibility. Kruger might have left in disguise. It would be almost too easy. He always wore a mask; no one outside Bastion knew his face. Stripped of his gear, dressed like anyone else, he could come and go unnoticed. That was what made the assassins so dangerous: their mindset, their caution, their endless patience.

“You know the procedure,” Conrad said firmly. “Confirm the information. Recruits, stick to ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ The faster you answer, the faster we’re done here.”

Luke glanced around. No one seemed alarmed. To them, this was routine.

“Hey, Jack,” he asked casually, “what’s going on?”

“Monthly inspection,” Jack muttered. “Bartholomew sends these guys to every work sector.”

Luke’s eyes shifted to the soldiers carrying ledgers.

“The last thing they want,” Jack added, “is giving work to someone who owes tribute… or to a criminal.”

Luke forced a thin smile. “Those files they’re carrying, they’ve got sketches, don’t they? Debtors… and criminals?”

“Of course.”

Luke’s stare lingered on the soldiers closing in. And the assassins… no doubt they’d be the ones to handle the criminals. He exhaled slowly, sinking into stillness. Readying himself for whatever came next. But deep down, the thought gnawed at him: trap or coincidence?

Shame I didn’t grab more arrows.

If Kruger got close, would he recognize him?

“Name, occupation, class, and time working here,” one soldier demanded.

“Rhett. Woodcutter. Ranger class. I’ve been here for a week,” the man answered.

Luke watched more soldiers spread out across the camp. Even Kruger and his shadows moved among them, grabbing clipboards and speaking with workers.

They’re interviewing too? If they see my picture as Luke… will they recognize me as James?

After the capital. After fighting Ronan. After killing six assassins. His face was etched into their memory by now. If they got anywhere near him, they’d recognize him instantly, and then all hell would break loose.

“Alright, Rhett. Everything checks out,” the soldier said. “Back to work.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed.

I can pretend I’ve already been interviewed, then turn into mist and hide inside a tree.

That was the plan. All he needed was an opening, a single move. Soldiers drifted closer to the workers, and unease coiled in his chest. He wasn’t ready to face Kruger. Not yet. Not without at least five more arrows in his quiver. The Warden Captain came first. Killing him mattered more than anything else. Once the second mechanism was triggered and the fortress handed over to Haven, then he could breathe easier and turn his full attention to Bartholomew.

“Name, job, class, and how long you’ve been here,” one soldier demanded.

Jack stiffened.

“Jack. Woodcutter. My class is… healer. Been working here a month.”

“Healer? What the hell are you doing in a place like this? If I were you, I’d rather be in Bastion.”

“Keep your voice down about my class,” Jack muttered, nervous. “You know that causes trouble…”

The soldier scratched notes on his ledger. “Information checks out. Get back to work.”

From a distance, he spotted Kruger. No clipboard. Just prowling between groups, scanning faces like a wolf among sheep. I must be the unluckiest bastard in this whole camp.

He watched Jack slip into the trees and lowered his head, slipping into stealth to follow, hoping to dodge his own interview. That’s when he felt a hand brush close.

“Name, job, class, and time working here,” a voice said.

He turned, already preparing to strike if the soldier recognized him for what he truly was. But when he saw who it was…

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Eleanor said.

His mind faltered for a moment. Right. Soldier.

“I’m guessing you already know everything about me,” he said lightly, masking the tension.

She gave a soft laugh while flipping open his file. He glanced around. The assassins and Kruger were still moving through the crowd, questioning workers.

“Small world, James,” she murmured.

“Smaller than I’d like,” he replied with a faint smile, keeping one eye on the shadows closing in.

“I already know your name. I still need your job, class, and how long you’ve been here,” she teased.

“Isn’t it all in the file?”

“Procedure says I have to ask,” she said, clearly toying with him.

“Fine. Woodcutter. Archer class. Two weeks on the job.”

She scribbled a few marks, then shut the file. “Looks like everything checks out. You’re free to return to work.”

But behind him, one of the shadow assassins was still conducting interviews. If it came to that, he would be recognized instantly. He needed a diversion.

He improvised.

“Well then, madam,” he said with a grin, “you know everything about me, and I barely know a thing about you. What are you doing out here? I’m the type to believe coincidences are just destiny in disguise.” He willed himself into the mindset of a spy, every word a deliberate mask.

Eleanor smiled faintly. “You already know my name. My class is archer.”

“That explains your aim,” he replied.

She shrugged. “Everyone has their strengths.”

The assassin still lingered behind him. He forced another smile. “I thought you just patrolled the Safe Zone. Didn’t realize you had other duties.”

“Why do you want to know more?” she asked slyly. “Trying to set something up?”

“Maybe. Depends on when you’re free…” He fought to keep his voice steady.

“I told you,” she said, eyes glinting. “My job is keeping the Safe Zone safe. That means I also work with Bastion’s special patrols. Like the ones with me right now.”

With those lunatic assassins?

“You seem like the most normal one,” he said.

“I’m not sure if I should be offended by that,” she replied with a small laugh.

She hesitated, her expression shifting. “But honestly, I barely interact with them. My role in the team is more… solitary.”

“And what role is that?” he asked.

“I’m more of a… sniper,” she said.

His throat tightened, forcing out a cough. “Sniper?” He struggled to keep his composure.

“Yes. I’m the best. They always call me for high-risk missions. Though lately, things have been quiet. Aside from that little incident at the barrier.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I-Incident at the barrier?”

“Yeah. With that maniac terrorist,” she said casually. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t in real danger… probably. Let’s just say, when I fire an arrow, I always shoot to kill.”

Shoot to kill?!

“Like… right in the heart?” he asked with a shaky laugh.

“Bingo.” Her smile sharpened. “I always prefer a clean shot straight through the heart.”

He scanned the surroundings, and something clicked in his mind.

No way…

‘Luke, there’s a good chance she’s the one who almost killed you.’ Artemis whispered, then burst into laughter. ‘Man, this world is way too small.’

He forced a calm tone. “I imagine your job gets pretty dangerous.”

“Sometimes. Why the sudden interest? Worried about me?” she asked, nudging him playfully.

“Yes… very worried.”

‘He’s worried about himself, hahahaha.’ Artemis howled inside his head.