The Fool’s Ascension

Jarek had made a lot of bad decisions in his life.

This one? Top three.

Standing in the dimly lit cavern, he ran through every possible way this could go wrong.

1. They were up against an assassin who was supposedly one of the best in the world.

2. Said assassin already tried to kill them once.

3. Sylva—the only person with actual information—was someone who had tried to kill them five minutes ago.

Great. Absolutely fantastic.

Jarek sighed. "Alright, let's hear it. Who exactly are we dealing with?"

Sylva leaned against the cavern wall, arms crossed. "His name is Kael Varyn."

Lena stiffened. "Varyn? As in the Ghost Blade?"

Jarek frowned. "That's a very dramatic name."

Sylva's expression remained unreadable. "Dramatic, but accurate. He's known for three things—stealth, speed, and leaving no survivors. If he's hunting you, you won't see him coming."

Jarek sighed. "Perfect. So how do we fight someone we can't see?"

Sylva smirked. "By making sure he never sees it coming."

A Dangerous Plan

Minutes later, Jarek found himself walking through the streets of a seedy town at midnight, feeling very much like bait.

The plan was simple: draw Kael out before he could strike first.

The execution? Less simple.

Lena walked beside him, one hand casually resting on her sword. "I still think this is a stupid plan."

Jarek nodded. "Oh, it absolutely is."

Sylva, hidden in the shadows above, whispered through their communication crystal.

"Stay alert. If Kael takes the bait, he won't hesitate to strike."

Jarek shivered. The town was eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from drunken mercenaries and the occasional scream in the distance.

Just another night in a lawless city.

Then, suddenly—a gust of wind.

Jarek's instincts screamed.

"MOVE!"

Jarek dove forward just as a blade sliced through the space where his neck had been.

A shadow blurred past.

Lena spun, sword drawn. "Where—"

Another flash of movement.

Jarek barely saw the strike in time. He yanked Lena out of the way, their backs hitting a stone wall.

A cold voice echoed from the darkness.

"You're smarter than you look."

Jarek's grip tightened on his sword. "Wow. Can't say the same about you, since you missed."

A figure stepped into the moonlight.

Kael Varyn.

Dressed in dark armor, a mask covering half his face, and twin daggers dripping with some kind of poison.

His eyes gleamed. "I won't miss twice."

Jarek exhaled.

"Yeah," he muttered. "That's what I was afraid of."