𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖘 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝟎𝟏 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬

┌─────── ✦ ───────┐
Selet - 11, 548th year since founded
53 years since departure from earth
Chalastis
└─────── ✧ ───────┘

HIS HANDS CLOSED TIGHTLY on his most despised weapon, the bow. The hooded shadow shifted a little as he silently fitted an arrow to the bow string.

He knew he was going to miss.

Even now, after fifty-three years since the boy left earth, he didn't have the ability for archery.

At seventy-two earth years, age hadn't weathered him, not one bit. He still surprisingly looked like his eighteen-year-old self.

At first, the assassin didn't know how it worked. And in the end, the reason had to be that since he escaped Gaia the Fates had no control over his life anymore. Death had no power, time left no mark.

He was immortal, quite a curse and a blessing.

However, his appearance wasn't important now.

His objective remained clear: the assassination of Lord Gis. Gis had surpassed at least half the number the boy killed – quite an impressive feat, considering the assassin's own murder count and the fact he got newly appointed as king around a week ago.

Gis sold children, broke plenty of cosmic Laws (definitely not like this guy), and killed anyone who dared to oppose him. Rumors were that he ended his own mother, the leader of Selet.

And there he stood, a figure that could only be compared to a baby of some distorted creature and a mole rat. His face was squashed, his eyes bloodshot.

Gis didn't deserve a quick death. The boy wanted to give him the most agonizing death imaginable, but he was heavily armed.

And not that it mattered, but hand-to-hand combat was always the worst-case scenario and the last thing he wanted was to capture the attention of the Chaos Army.

Chaos Army...

He sighed in annoyance. Thinking about them made his head hurt. They were like pesky little flies, if you couldn't kill pesky little flies.

He readied his bow and... thwack. He watched as the arrow sailed across the room and landed on Gis' painting above the throne.

He missed. No surprise there.

Gis was screaming like a baby and the guards were a mess. The boy smiled to himself. Maybe the arrow wasn't such a bad idea after all.

He leaped down from the hanging wooden beams and instantly, all the guards converged into a protective circle around their king.

Well, so much for trying to avoid hand-to-hand combat.

His face couldn't be seen by his attackers as it was concealed by a hood. His voice was way too cheery when he spoke in the language of Selet. "Hi," he waved. "Quite a funny story, you see. I was walking around Selet, planning on visiting your mother. Then I heard she died and my least favorite son of hers had taken her place."

Gis growled. "You."

"Me," said the assassin, his smile vanishing. "You killed her, didn't you?"

"How dare you–" he tried to snap.

"No," he interrupted sharply. "How dare you? Admit you killed your own mother and perhaps I'll consider granting you a fast death."

Gis turned a deep shade of purple, and his guards exchanged nervous glances, uncertain of what to do.