She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to. They both knew what the preparations were.

The Church of Unbinding had sent more than just assassins into this raid. There were others, scattered among the different groups, in different parts of the valley and not working on the quests, but working on something larger. Something that would ensure the Church’s message spread across the region, something that, if it worked, would prevent the Allied Worlds from searching for their leader, and something that could actually bring them to new levels of power.

“Heh.” A sliver of a smile touched Rook’s lips. “Imagine the reward. The Progenitor himself will honor us for cutting the head off this bastard.”

“The reward only comes if he dies. He’s high level. We will need to be fast and silent if we want to kill him. I don’t have to remind you that if he wakes up, we are dead, right?”

They moved on, slipping past the sleeping forms of Seraphine’s Spriggans and Aldric’s Sun Chasers.

They reached the small fire where Reidar was camped. The fire in front of him had burned down to embers, providing barely enough light to see by, which played in their favor.

Reidar Miller. The Warlord and leader of this raid. There were no summons around him. No wolves, no bears, no clattering skeletons, nor dashingly terrifying knights. He had dismissed them, trusting the camp’s guards. He was exposed.

It was too easy.

“No pets,” Destiny said. She drew a long, dark dagger. The Church wanted Reidar dead, and they were going to bring that motherfucker right into its embrace.

“Just a man in a blanket.”

Destiny and Rook approached from opposite sides. They tensed, preparing to strike. Rook would take the throat; Destiny would take the heart.

The woman crouched low and studied Reidar. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, which meant he was asleep.

Rook drew his short sword slowly, ensuring the blade made no sound as it cleared the sheath. He met Destiny’s eyes. She nodded once.

The man could barely contain his excitement. If they really killed Reidar Miller, that would cement their status within the Church. The Archdeacon, Silas, himself, would acknowledge their service, and they would be allowed to ascend. They would be finally freed from the system’s shackles.

“The Church provides,” Rook murmured.

They moved together. Destiny raised her daggers, and Rook lifted his sword, preparing to drive it through Reidar’s chest. Simultaneous strikes. There would be no chance for the target to react or call for help.

Two arrows materialized from the darkness before they could bring their weapons down.

The first caught Destiny through the shoulder, punching through muscle and bone before burying itself in the ground beneath her and pinning her down.

The second arrow took Rook through the arm, angling down to nail him to the log where Reidar had been seated not even an hour earlier. He gasped, more from shock than pain, and his sword fell from his grip. He was going to retrieve it and complete his quest, but unfortunately, Reidar sat up and stared at him. There was no grogginess, no confusion of someone woken from sleep. He had been awake all along.

Of course, the Spectral Knights appeared soon after and pointed blades at him.

Reidar stood, brushing dirt from his clothes. His expression was cold.

“You’re terrible at this,” he said.

Destiny tried to move. The arrow held her firmly in place. She reached for one of her fallen daggers with her good hand.

A third arrow appeared, pinning her wrist to the ground before she could touch the weapon. She cried out; the sound stifled as she bit down on her lip.

Rook remained silent. He pressed his free hand against the arrow in his thigh, trying to stanch the blood flow.

Reidar looked through the darkness. “You can come out now.”

A figure emerged from the shadows beyond the firelight. A woman with a bow, another arrow already nocked. She wore dark clothing similar to the assassins’. She approached until she stood beside Reidar, her bow trained on the two pinned figures.

It was Kara.

“Two of them,” she said. “Like you predicted.” In truth, it was because Lena warned him, and he used his Vorathid Foragers to spy on the raid members. The foragers lasted until they were defeated or dismissed, or up to two hours, so Reidar could get information far more easily than he could in Havenwood.

It wasn’t just that, but they could also change their size, which would actually change their S.H.I.E.L.D. and F.L.A.I.R. attributes. The smaller they were, the weaker but faster they would be; the opposite was true if they got bigger.

Of course, in this case, Reidar needed the ants to be small so that no one would notice them.

Reidar sprang to his feet and crouched beside Destiny, studying her face while his spectral knights pinned her down and kept her in place. “Church of Unbinding?”

Destiny spat at him. The spittle was cut from one of the spectral knights before it reached him.

“I’ll take that as confirmation.”

“You said preparations were almost done. What preparations?” Kara asked. She had been stalking those guys, so she heard.

Rook remained silent. His jaw was set, his eyes defiant despite the arrows through his body.

Reidar sighed. He stood and looked at Kara. “Wake Helga and Aldric quietly. Don’t alert the camp yet.”

Kara hesitated. “You think there are more?”

“He said Preparations. That implies something larger than a simple assassination.” Reidar looked down at the two assassins. “They’re not working alone.”

Kara lowered her bow and disappeared into the darkness.

Reidar remained standing over Destiny and Rook. He crossed his arms, waiting, surrounded by the Spectral Knights. The two assassins lay pinned to the ground, bleeding slowly. Neither spoke. Neither begged for mercy nor tried to negotiate.

<True believers, then. The worst kind.>

Minutes passed. The camp remained silent around them. No one had noticed the brief clash. The guards on watch were too far away, their attention aimed toward the outside rather than inside.

Helga came out of the darkness first. She carried her warhammer over one shoulder, and her expression was murderous. She took one look at the pinned assassins and grinned.

“Well, well. Looks like someone tried to kill our favorite summoner.” She prodded Rook with the head of her hammer. “Ballsy. Stupid, but ballsy.”

Aldric arrived moments later. His expression was controlled, and his eyes were sharp. This was the Aldric personality, the knightly one. He studied the scene quickly and efficiently.

“Church of Unbinding?” he asked.

“Most likely,” Reidar said. “They mentioned preparations. I need to know what they’re planning. Is there someone among you guys who can figure this out?”

Aldric nodded. “I’ve got the right person for you.”

Then he crouched beside Rook. He placed a hand on the arrow shaft, not pulling but applying gentle pressure. Rook gasped as pain shot through his leg.

“I’m going to ask once,” Lorian said. His voice was soft, almost gentle, but the grin on his face was predatory. “What preparations were you talking about?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep