Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 9]

"B-Back," Lisa wept. "Get back!" She went for my sword.

Bad move.

The Assassin would have had her there but for my shoulder hitting the back of his legs, carrying him down. We fell onto Lisa as she scrambled for Crocea Mors, the three of us tangling on the floor. She thrashed about wildly and to little avail, leaving me to wrestle one hand around the Assassin's knife hand and the other around his throat.

Something bit into my hip – another blade of some kind, smaller. I grunted and clenched my hand tighter, cutting off his air. All the while, my other hand kept the knife away from Lisa.

Footsteps echoed outside. Finally, someone was coming to investigate the noise.

Kicking off the ground, I rolled back, dragging my opponent with me, off Lisa's panicked body. In doing so, I was able to roll the smaller knife out my hip and trap his hand under my side.

Lisa reached Crocea Mors and slid it across the floor towards me, not even drawing it, she was so afraid. The Assassin's saw it and struggled harder, biting down on my wrist.

I ignored it and Crocea Mors. While the thought was there, the room was too cramped to properly use it, and Assassins specialised in getting in close, where a sword was more a liability than an asset. That meant my Swordmaster Class was equally useless, having not a single benefit over being a Blacksmith when I was unarmed. In fact, it was far weaker, having not a single Skill I could use.

Blacksmith Skills, though? Well, that was a different story.

"Sorry," I whispered to the man, bringing my hand off his neck and over his mouth. "This isn't going to be a nice way to go."

The advantage of having my hand over his mouth as I Stoked the Forge was that it cut off his screams. The disadvantage was that I felt every scream against my hand, his agony against my body as he bucked and writhed.

It was not a quick death, though I tried to make it so.

—Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 9]