The Tower King

Nerris looked at Jarek with astonished eyes, she knew that he could do completely senseless things, but from there to steal the registers of an Order, it was quite simply pure madness. "Tell me you're joking, you know that if you get caught, you might give up. Or that there might be reprisals against the Order of Mercenaries."

Always with the same confident look, Jarek did not seem to take this lightly and knew what it cost to steal such confidential information from an Order, especially that of the Assassins, which is, as its name suggests, an Order where the best assassins on this floor are grouped.

"I know exactly what it costs to do that, but given that my life could be on the line in 2 months when I face Hota, that doesn't change much."

"And the lives of all members of the Order, have you thought about it?"

"Obviously, it's also for them that I'm doing this."

This time, Nerris did not understand the reasoning of the young man. How was stealing records going to help dozens of Mercenaries?

"Why would they need this information? They will not fight against him, and even worse, they will surely never cross his path and, for some, will not even hear about it." She replied, raising her voice, letting her surprise take over.

More and more eyes turned towards them afterwards, some not knowing if it was an argument or a simple discussion.

However, all this tumult did not seem to bother Jarek in the slightest, who continued to explain his thought in the greatest calm.

"Do you seriously think that if Hota manages to kill me, as well as Aden, who is number 7, he will stop there?"

He stopped for a few moments and let Nerris think about his words. Then he continued. "If he manages to kill both of us, he'll take the rest of the top 10, which he hasn't killed yet. And then, either he leaves as he came, or he decides to create a dictatorship on this floor given that he has eliminated the best fighters here. And believe me that if he manages to do this, they will be in much more danger than you can believe."

Nerris finally understood the full extent of Jarek's plan, he was not only acting to save his own life, but to save an entire floor. If they had been on an upper floor, all this could never have been done given that the God of this said floor would have intervened, or at least a Controller, but in the lower floors, there were no Controllers and even fewer Gods.

"In that case, how do you plan to go about it?"

A mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I would still need you."

...

The sun was already high in the sky, veiled by a pungent mist that hung above the alleys of Ceston. Unlike most other upstairs cities, this one seemed foreign to light: its dark buildings, all in height, projected permanent shadows on the cracked cobblestones, and the windows, when there were any, were as narrow as loopholes.

Ceston was not a city for living. It was made to hide.

Nerris pulled a little more on her hood, observing around her. The silence was almost heavy. Apart from a few silent merchants, dirty kids running in the alleys, and some hooded figures, the city seemed frozen. But she knew that behind every wall, every opaque window, eyes watched them.

They had just arrived two days ago, but the atmosphere of the city was already familiar to them: permanent tension, extreme caution, and the certainty that any false step could be the last.

"I've known hostile places, but this one breaks records." she breathed in a low voice as they sank into a more remote neighborhood.

By his side, Jarek said nothing. His gaze swept the surroundings endlessly, as if he expected to be followed. Which, here, was probably true. He wore a more sober outfit than usual, a cape with dull tones, a dark scarf pulled up to his nose. In Ceston, the slightest shard of color could attract attention. And attention in that city was a deadly weapon.

They ended up settling in a small dilapidated inn, with a name long since erased. The manager had not asked for their names, nor even looked at their faces. He had just handed a key and requested change.

Once the door of their room locked behind them, Jarek placed his things and sat back to the wall, legs crossed, looking towards the ceiling.

Nerris broke the silence first. "So? Do you think he's here?"

He took a moment before responding. "I'm almost sure."

She sat facing him, abandoning her hood, revealing her worried face. "What if he wasn't there?"

"So we made the trip for nothing. But at least we could have visited a superb small town."

She inspired for a long time. "Very well. So, how are we going to go about it?"

"It's very simple, as I told you, I am going to join the Order of Assassins."

Nerris examined her for a few moments and immediately realized that his plan did not already hold water. "Are you aware that no person can be part of two Orders at the same time?"

Jarek raised an eyebrow, finding his question totally stupid. "Do you really take me for a fool? I'm aware of that. And I am also aware that the Order of Assassins is extremely doubtful about members of other Orders who wish to join it. That's why with a hostess from my 'old' Order, they will not be able to refuse my admission."

"Indeed, I hadn't thought of that." She admitted, while nodding slightly. "But will it be my only role in your plan?"

"For now yes." he continued. "If this first condition is not met, then I will have to change the plan. But let's hope everything goes well."

"And otherwise, do you have the slightest idea of where the registration registers are located?"

A slight smile appeared on his face, as he took out a bottle of water from his purse attached to his waist. "I haven't the faintest idea. I couldn't get any information."

Slightly furrowing her brows, Nerris realized that the situation was truly more hopeless than she would have believed. "You will therefore improvise as usual."

"Exactly." he replied, a big smile on his face.

...

The next day, at dawn, they left the inn without a sound. No words had been exchanged since the awakening, only a few brief glances to synchronize, a nod to signal that they were ready.

Ceston was still asleep. A dense fog crawled between the buildings, muffling sounds, absorbing light. The footsteps of Jarek and Nerris on the cobblestones were barely audible, and their presence seemed to dissolve in the stale air of the city.

The building of the Order of the Assassins was not in a visible neighborhood. It had no flashy facade, no garish sign. To be honest, he didn't even have a name. Just a black door, embedded in a gray stone wall, at the end of a narrow alley that one reached after crossing a succession of dark passages. It was a place we couldn't find when looking for it. We had to have heard about it. And above all, we had to dare to go there.

Nerris glanced at Jarek. He seemed strangely calm. Too calm.

"Are you sure you want to do this now? We could take a day or two longer, observe the place, find a more solid plan..."

Jarek turned his eyes towards her. They shone with a rare, almost disturbing resolution. "The longer we wait, the more attention is drawn. Better do it quickly."

He advanced towards the black door and knocked twice, then once, with a precise rhythm. He had memorized this signal thanks to a very expensive paid informant. Or threatened, he hadn't specified it.

The door opened onto a hooded man, whose only cold eyes were visible.

He did not speak, but quickly gauged them, as if to dissect them with a single look.

Jarek spoke, his voice calm. "I wish to join the Order."

The man does not react. He turned to Nerris, who spoke in turn, in a professional tone while showing his badge as the hostess of the Order of Mercenaries: "I am here to attest to his skills and loyalty to the Order of Assassins. He left the Order of Mercenaries."

A heavy silence settled in.

Finally, the man stepped aside, opening the way.

They entered.

The building was nothing luxurious. The walls were made of a dark, almost black stone, oozing moisture. Torches scattered a flickering light, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Silhouettes passed silently, some masked, others with their faces uncovered, but all had one thing in common: they were cut to kill.

They were guided into a small vaulted room, with a table and two chairs. They waited there for several minutes. Then, a woman entered.

Tall, thin, dark hair tied back and a look as sharp as a blade. She sat facing them, without showing herself.

"You want to come in." she said to Jarek, without any inflection. "Why?"

Jarek replied bluntly, "I want to improve my skills. And I want to be ready to survive in the Tower."

She raised an eyebrow. "You speak as if you knew the Tower."

"It's a bit the case, we were all born here."

A silence.

Then she turned to Nerris. "Do you confirm his departure from the Mercenary Order?"

She nodded without hesitation. "He gave me his badge yesterday. He no longer has any official link with us."

The woman stood up, observed them for a moment, then declared: "Very well. You will start tomorrow. If you survive your first mission, you will be able to officially join the Order."

She gestured towards the door. "A room awaits you. You stay here. She leaves again."

Jarek did not flinch. Nerris stood up, cast one last glance at his companion, and left without a word.

But as she disappeared into the dark halls, a dull anguish infiltrated her chest.

Jarek was finally inside. But he wasn't there to learn how to kill, he was there to steal.

The woman stayed a few moments alongside Jarek without speaking, then took out a purple stone, containing a screen floating above. "Place your thumb on it."

Jarek approved the chef and did what the hostess asked him, they waited for a few moments then a number appeared on the screen.

2 074.

The hostess looked at the number displayed and did not believe her eyes, it was the first time she had seen such a score. In normal times, anyone above 1,500 is already on much higher floors.

Jarek noticed her disillusioned gaze that she was trying to hide and was amused by his reaction. "Is there a problem with the calculator?"

The woman slowly resumed her calm and replied with her usual dry air. "None. Given your level, you will have a mission in accordance with your level."

"I expected nothing less from the Order of Assassins." He replied, standing up.

"You have room 42." she replied while taking the stone and leaving as quickly as she had come.

Jarek observed him for a few moments and noticed that she had asked him no personal information, neither his name, nor his first name, nor his age, only his level of Ushi.

"It doesn't suit me, if they have no other information about their members." He thought while heading towards stairs located a few meters from the small room in which they were. "Unless it was the guys who had been following us for 2 days who managed to give them information..."

The door in front of which he arrived when he reached his room was much more dilapidated than he would have thought, no lock, no handle, it was even broken at the bottom.

"I understood... Always stay on your guard."

The interior of the room was no better, a swaying bed, a cracked window as large as a loophole, a desk without a top and a chair shattered into pieces on the floor.

This whole town was screaming inhospitality, but the Order of Assassins was undoubtedly the most dilapidated place in Ceston.

Jarek sat on the bed that swayed under his weight, he took the time to think about how he was going to proceed.

Firstly, he was simply going to accomplish the mission that the Order was going to give him, even though he wasn't necessarily very playful at the idea of killing someone who didn't put his life in danger, he knew he didn't really have a choice for this time. He therefore preferred to do nothing during this first evening.

He thought rather to start this research the next evening, he was not going to try anything extraordinary, but still notice if there were guards watching the corridors of the Order and then try to locate the place where he stored all the records, if ever there were any.

For the future, he didn't know yet, he would improvise according to what he found as his research progressed.

He then spent a few dozen more minutes thinking about the sequence of events and ended as best he could by falling asleep in this bed that swayed with his movements.