Though Cassian didn’t rely heavily on the system—its features were costly—he had tapped into its now-available functions, especially the Technique Simulation Module. He had used it to simulate the Gale Whisper Sword technique, burning through hard-earned training points. Once simulated, though, any technique could be rewatched anytime. Cassian still recalled how a clone-like figure appeared in a virtual room, demonstrating the technique with precision. Watching it, he mastered the moves faster, though it only worked for techniques.
For other system features, like the first three forms of the Gale Whisper Sword style, the cost was steeper—far more training points were needed to simulate even one form. Cassian hadn’t managed that yet, having not enough points. But he’d soon earn about a thousand points once he completed a full-body massage with a satisfying ending.
As Cassian thought about missions, he realized he hadn’t accepted one in ages. The situation was perfect—plenty of opponents still out there, their footsteps echoing as they jumped and ran through the trees. He sensed them, only half an hour away at the cultists’ breakneck pace. To succeed, he needed to kill nearly a hundred of them in that time, including one mage, and he’d already cut down a few dozens.
Pausing in the darkness, Cassian scrolled through the system’s mission list, his eyes glinting with purpose. Few missions suited his current situation, and wary of tasks that could bog him down later, he made a swift decision, selecting two.
[Task Name: Silent Execution
Objective: Eliminate 40 enemies using stealth without being seen during the act of killing.
Reward: 500 training points
Note: Each instance of being seen during a kill reduces training points by 50 from the reward. More than 10 instances temporarily lowers a random status.]
[Task Name: Mage Slayer
Objective: Assassinate a mage stronger than a trainee without their presence being felt until the killing blow is struck. The mage sensing the attack a second before death is acceptable, as long as the kill is successful.
Reward: 800 training points
Note: If the mage or nearby enemies sense the attacker’s presence before the killing blow, or if the mission fails, 300 training points are deducted.]
Cassian hesitated, eyeing both missions. The Mage Slayer task carried heavy risk—failing it would deduct 300 training points he didn’t even have, and knowing the system, it’d likely hit him with something worse.
But greed for the system’s power, which had fueled his rapid growth beyond others, won out. He sighed and accepted both. "Let’s knock out the first one first..." he muttered, figuring that eliminating forty enemies for Silent Execution would earn enough training points to cover any deductions.
Cassian tore into his rampage, but it was proving tougher than expected. Before, he hadn’t cared about deductions as long as enemies died, but here, he’d already earned his first penalty. Targeting two cultists together, he barely succeeded—flashing into the darkness, he sliced off the first’s head in a clean stroke. As the second turned, catching sight of his friend’s severed head, he froze, only to have his own head cut from behind. That made numbers six and seven.
"Only deal killing blows..." Cassian muttered, realizing precision was key to completing Silent Execution without losing training points.
Cassian pressed on with his silent killings, his movements a deadly whisper in the darkness. He targeted those straggling at the edges, far enough from the others to avoid detection, or pairs he could dispatch swiftly. Killing three at once without the last one spotting him was too troublesome, so he played it safe, sticking to isolated targets or duos. His blade found one cultist skulking alone, lurking behind a gnarled tree. Cassian slipped from the shadows, his green blade—still shimmering with a faint red glow—slicing through the man’s throat before he could blink. The body slumped soundlessly, blood soaking the roots below. Moments later, he ambushed a pair patrolling a ridge, their footsteps crunching softly. He flashed forward, severing the first cultist’s spine with a single thrust, then spun, driving his sword through the second’s chest as he turned, eyes wide with shock. Numbers eight and nine.
This cautious approach held until only four cultists remained. The group had thinned, the lone stragglers already dead. Those left were clustered in the middle, surrounding the mage—likely a Spellfang Adherent—who was guarded tightly. The few spread out at a distance formed a larger perimeter, probably tasked with fanning out to perform specific roles once the attack on Magesteria’s reinforcements began.
The nearest group to Cassian, four cultists strong, was slightly separated from the rest. He couldn’t afford to circle to the other side of the camp—time was running out. The cultists were just bit more then dozen mintues away from reaching Magesteria’s reinforcement campsite, leaving him little time to complete Silent Execution and assassinate the mage for Mage Slayer.
Cassian crouched low, his killing domain pulsing, sharpening his senses. The four ahead were his best shot. He’d have to kill them cleanly, without alerting the mage’s group, or risk failing both missions.
Cassian crouched in the shadows, his killing domain humming as he studied the four cultists ahead. Each carried a bow and quiver, confirming his suspicion—they were assigned a specific role, likely archers meant to rain arrows during the cult’s attack on Magesteria’s reinforcements. This made them weak in melee but dangerously sharp at detecting stealthy enemies, given their own sneaky tactics. Cassian weighed his options: he could kill two without being seen, but the other two would need to die swiftly, even if they spotted him.
He moved like a phantom, his green blade pulsing with a faint red glow. Targeting the first archer, who stood slightly apart, scanning the treeline, Cassian unleashed a Gale Whisper Sword technique—a razor-sharp wind blade that hissed through the air, severing the cultist’s head in one clean strike. The body crumpled silently, head rolling into the underbrush. Cassian wasn’t a sicko who relished beheading; it was simply the surest way to ensure death. Number 37
The remaining three snapped to attention, alerted by the faint whistle of the wind blade. One, quicker than the others, nocked an arrow, aiming toward the shadows where the attack originated. But Cassian was already moving, a blur in the darkness. He surged forward, his cold steel slicing vertically through the second archer’s face, splitting it from forehead to chin, blood spraying as the man collapsed. Number 38.
The last two archers, bows drawn, fired blindly into the dark sky, hoping to hit something or signal their allies. One opened his mouth to shout, but Cassian was faster—his sword thrust through the back of the cultist’s head, the blade erupting from his mouth in a spray of blood and bone. Number 39. The final archer, eyes wide, saw Cassian materialize—the silent killer who’d slaughtered his comrades. He tried to scream, but Cassian’s hand clamped over his mouth, squeezing tight. With a mocking "Shh..." gesture, he silenced the man, ensuring their skirmish hadn’t alerted the mage’s group.
Cassian’s gaze hardened, annoyed. "I’d love to give you the most painful death possible," he whispered, "but I can’t let your screams or even whimpers reach the others. Thank whatever god you pray to for this painless end." His sword drove upward, piercing from the cultist’s underneck through his skull. The body dropped with a dull thud. As the corpse hit the ground, the system’s voice echoed in his mind, unfourntaly not of kill but of getting his point training points deducted from mission reward.
The final archer had seen him before dying, breaking the mission’s stealth rule. Irritation surged as Cassian glanced at the notification—one more kill was needed, but with less than a few minutes left and the faint glow of Magesteria’s reinforcement camp visible in the distance, he couldn’t risk it. The mage for Mage Slayer still awaited, and time was slipping away.
With no chance for another stealthy kill—except for the mage himself—Cassian grinned widely as he spotted the mage descending slowly, floating down with care to avoid detection by any guards near the Magesteria camp. Strangely, no guards were posted nearby, which set Cassian’s suspicions on edge. Was it possible Kalso hadn’t warned the commander about the attack? He should have, but the absence of defenses felt off. Torn between tasks, Cassian wrestled with his decision—the completion’s of task was critical, but so was checking on his friends back at camp.
Creeping closer, ahead of the cultist group, Cassian peered at the camp and froze. People milled about, carefree, and there was Kalso, eating with his teammates, all smiles. The sight baffled him. Why hadn’t Kalso reported the attack? Or had he, and no one cared? With the cultists closing in, Cassian had no time to confront him. The best he could do was stay hidden, observe, and press forward with the mission.