Pretending to pick up a flamboyantly designed, flame-shaped greatsword for a closer look, Aldric secretly sent a message to Vittoria:
'Be careful. I think there's something wrong with the servant at the door. I'm going to test him. Just in case—get ready for a fight.'
Using the excuse of turning around to examine another suit of armor, the female warrior subtly checked the servant's reflection in the polished metal plating. Through the mirror-like surface, she observed the man's stance and then replied with a short message:
'Got it. Understood.'
To sell the act completely and avoid alerting their target, Aldric didn't use his master's sword. Instead, he held up the ornate greatsword in his hand and strolled casually in Vittoria's direction.
When he was closest to the servant, he suddenly raised the sword, adopting a traditional two-handed stance. With an easygoing tone, he called out, "Hey! What do you think of this weapon? I have to say, Antoine's taste isn't half bad."
Throughout this entire exchange, Aldric's heightened perception picked up a subtle but crucial detail—the servant's breathing. The moment Aldric raised his sword, the servant's breath quickened ever so slightly, and the faint tremor beneath his uniform betrayed tense, flexing muscles ready to explode into action. But when Aldric casually spoke, the man's breathing steadied again, his tension fading.
As expected—something was definitely wrong!
You strike while the iron's hot. Don't give him another chance.
Just as the man's guard dropped, Aldric twisted his stance sharply and swung the sword sideways toward the servant. At the same time, he shouted, "Shadow Assassin! I knew it was you, you treacherous rat!"
Caught completely off guard, the disguised servant had no time to react. Being called out by name only worsened his panic—his body froze for a fraction of a second, and in that instant, he lost his one and only chance to counterattack.
A heartbeat later, Aldric's greatsword stopped firmly against the man's throat, the blade's edge drawing a thin line of blood.
Vittoria moved swiftly, stepping in to bind the servant tightly with the rope she carried on her belt.
It was only then, pinned to the ground and unable to move, that the "servant" finally let out a frustrated sigh. "How did you notice me? I was sure my disguise was flawless. Even Antoine didn't realize his personal attendant had been replaced!"
Vittoria gave him no chance to continue. She grabbed his face and scrubbed it hard, her strength making the disguised assassin's legs flail helplessly. The makeup smeared away, revealing his true identity—indeed, it was the very same Shadow Assassin who had once set them up. His features were reddened from her rough grip, and even Vittoria couldn't help glancing curiously at Aldric, wondering how he had seen through it.
Aldric didn't bother answering. What was he supposed to say—that his accusation had been a total gamble? Instead, he sneered, eyes cold and mocking. "You still have the guts to show up here? You've got some nerve, I'll give you that. But this time, you're not getting away!"
"Hey, hey! Easy there!" The assassin—Colin—tried to pull back from the sword pressing against his neck, regaining his composure with impressive speed. "Let's talk this through. I have a good proposal for you. How about letting me stand up first?"
Vittoria looked to Aldric, silently signaling that since he had caught the man, it was his decision what to do next.
Aldric, knowing full well how slippery this guy was, pressed the blade a little harder against his throat, leaving a shallow cut. "Don't try any tricks. My teacher has a lot of unfinished business with you, and we still need to settle our own accounts as well."
"I'd say I deserve some credit for saving the city, wouldn't you?" Colin said calmly, unflinching even with a blade against his skin. "If it weren't for me, your teacher wouldn't have arrived at that warehouse in time to save you."
He had no idea, of course, that Aldric had single-handedly killed the nurgle cultist after that.
"I know there's been some misunderstanding between us," the assassin continued quickly, speaking with clear logic and no hesitation. "But that was just business. My employer was the one targeting you—not me. I'm just a professional doing my job. Business is business! There's no personal grudge here. I'm willing to offer you something valuable in exchange for your forgiveness. What do you say?"
Colin stared straight into Aldric's eyes, trying to read him. Aldric considered for a moment before replying evenly, "Start by telling us why you're here, what you can offer, and then we'll talk terms."
But no matter how hard Colin looked, he couldn't read a thing from Aldric's expression. A sense of frustration crept up inside him. This young apprentice—sharp, calm, perceptive, and cautious—was the worst kind of opponent for a trickster like him. To have fallen into this kid's hands twice was enough to make him question his life choices.
Sighing, he finally explained his situation with visible resentment. "This damned place… I swear, I'm never coming back again. Not a single reliable employer here!"
He recalled all his painstaking efforts—how he'd schemed to play every side, balancing between Antoine, the Chaos cultists, and the witchers, manipulating all three for maximum profit. Yet, at the final moment, he'd been betrayed by that little count.
When he finally broke into the Anthony family's treasury, excited and triumphant, he found it completely empty. Not a single coin. A rat would've cried if it had crawled in there!
Who would've thought that the count was the type of devout Chaos believer who had literally spent his entire fortune on the cult's cause?
With nothing left, Colin had been forced to disguise himself as Antoine's personal servant, hoping to scavenge something from the vault before fleeing the city.
As for the real servant—well, he'd perished during the battle at the lord's manor.
And that was how this current scene had come to be.
Having revealed everything, Colin actually looked somewhat relieved. He had already broken his assassin order's strict code of secrecy; he could never return to his organization now. His only choice was to vanish, live under a false identity, and avoid being hunted by his former comrades.
Even Vittoria couldn't help feeling a hint of pity for him. For all his scheming, this assassin had truly drawn the short straw. He'd orchestrated half the chaos in this city and still ended up empty-handed—while every other faction had walked away satisfied, except the dead Chaos followers, of course.
Lowering his head in resignation, the ex-assassin muttered his offer. "I can remove the magical seals in this room. If you let me go, I'll split the treasure with you—half and half. All the weapons and gear are yours."
Vittoria pulled the rope tighter around him. "That's your ransom? You think you're in a position to negotiate? Besides, how do you expect us to carry all this out of here?"
Aldric gestured for her to hold off. Then he looked down at the man under his sword and said evenly, "I'm sure our dear assassin here has a way to get everything out safely. After all, he knows we need him alive—to take the blame for stealing from the lord's vault. Isn't that, right?"
Colin nodded without hesitation. "You really are sharp, young witcher. Fine—I'll help you move everything. Once we divide it evenly, I'll leave behind enough evidence to make sure everyone believes I was the thief. No one will ever suspect you."
(End of Chapter)