Sins of the Forefathers: A LitRPG Fantasy Isekai

Grey sighed, rubbing his brow. “Complication after complication.”

After finding the murdered Duke with Prince Oskar, I had stuck around for a bit to try and figure out how it had happened. That had involved some gentle questioning of the housekeeping staff and the guards that saw to the prison block.

According to them, he had been alive and crotchety as early as this morning when they did their rounds. The last time he had been checked up on was when he’d gotten his breakfast. It had been around midday, roughly two in the afternoon when the screaming maid had discovered his corpse. So, somewhere in an eight-hour period of time an assassin had slipped right into the heart of the Citadel and silenced its former master in cold blood, without anyone to the wiser. The surrounding prisoners hadn’t even known that Graden had carked it until the screeching of the maid had alerted them.

The timing and the condition of the corpse was a bit odd, in my opinion. While I didn't consider myself an expert on human remains, it was my understanding that it took longer than such a short period of time for someone to become as exsanguinated as Graden had been.

What the assassin had done, it had taken no small amount of skill. Frankly, I didn’t see how they had done it. I don't think I could have. None of the prisoners even reported seeing anybody walk past their cell in that time frame, which possibly ruled out a disguised infiltrator.

For now, it was going to have to remain a mystery how the assassin had so skillfully infiltrated our defenses.

We needed to deal with the fallout, now.

After gathering what information I could, I had exchanged some strained goodbyes with the Prince and his attack dog, and left to find Grey. He had commandeered a modest office for his own use in the upper reaches of the Citadel, and it was just the two of us in here right now.

He hadn’t been very happy to hear about either the assassination or my impromptu royal interrogation.

“No doubt Prince Alaric and his lackeys have been alerted to the capture of Helstein by now,” Grey said irritably, drumming his fingers on his desk. “This was likely a plot by his knives to deprive us of any intelligence that could have been extracted from the former Duke.”

“But I thought you had already been working on Graden? You know, before he carked it?” I pointed out, relaxing in the surprisingly comfy chair seated in front of Grey’s desk. I was helping myself to a glass of liquor that Grey had broken out when I had informed him of the day's events, and feeling marginally better. The stress that both matters had placed on my shoulders was melting away from the taste of expensive booze, pilfered from the cabinets of a now-deceased Duke.

Grey sighed again, setting down his own glass and standing up. He walked over to settle in front of the large window in his office with his hands behind his back. “I was, yes,” He said, not turning to face me. “However, I was hesitant to employ more…brutal questioning methods. Not only have I found them to be mostly useless, but distasteful as well. As a result, my now concluded ongoing interrogation of the Duke was slow going. The man was only willing to give up small, mostly useless parcels of information until he was afforded some, shall we say, significant concessions.”

I snorted, swirling the booze in my glass. “Let me guess,” I said sarcastically. “He wanted the Citadel back.”

Grey nodded, staring out over the city of Helstein. “At the very least. He was unwilling to budge on that matter, even if he could not retain his title. Alas, it was all for naught now. If I wish to discover who exactly was the perpetrator of the plot to brand me, then we’ll simply have to continue our campaign.” He shook his head in disappointment, turning around and walking back over to flop into his impressively high-backed chair. He picked up his own glass of liquor and slammed it back before pouring himself another.

He was really pretty set on this whole revenge thing, huh. I didn’t blame him, I suppose. I didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to decrying vengeance.

I’d gotten mine months ago now. I really don’t know how I would have reacted if Magnus had managed to escape me.

Probably poorly.

“And Oskar?” I said, restarting the conversation after a moment's silence between us. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting an interrogation today. Especially not from some snot-nosed Prince.”

I didn’t have a negative view of the Prince now at all. Not me, no sirree.

Grey groaned aloud, reaching up to massage his brow as if to stave off a headache. “I’ll have a talk with him later. I'll have to gently remind him that the secrets of my retinue are not his to rifle through. However in retrospect, I can see how some of the actions we’ve taken over the last half a year have been suspect, and how one could jump to entirely the wrong conclusion. Still, I’m sorry to say that it’s not a high priority right now. By your own word, Prince Oskar has already apologized for his ambush. There really isn’t much that can be done, Nathan.” He smiled at me apologetically.

I waved him off, uncaring about any possible consequence. Instead, I was caught up in something else Grey had said.

Half a year.

It had been half a year now since I’d been stranded on Vereden. God…it really didn’t feel that long. We’d been so busy, for so long, and under such stressful conditions that time had slipped by me. It had been late spring when I’d materialized in that forest clearing, and I’d spent most of summer in a slave collar. The majority of fall had been spent trekking across the breadth of the continent and its seas to save political prisoners. Now, with winter almost on us, the Herztalian Civil War had kicked back off in earnest.

The timing was almost poetic. An orgy of blood and violence was soon to begin in these days, under the pall of the season of the dead.

It promised to be a hard campaign. In the meetings that I had sat through with Grey, more than one officer had suggested waiting until spring came again to resume the war effort and strike out from their new headquarters here at Helstein.

Grey and Leopold had shot down those ideas. They’d pointed out how this was promising to not only be a relatively mild winter, but how the climate of the south changed matters. To the north of Helstein and past this desert, they were likely already experiencing snowfall. Hollow Hill was probably buried in sheets of frozen white by now. But the south had a much milder climate. The central mountains around Helstein blocked that cold air from moving south, and thus they had weaker winters. The most the army could expect would be some cold weather and sleet, and none of the debilitating snow that would have made a more northerly campaign downright impossible.

No, the Uprising’s supply lines and support had been solidified by both our capture of Helstein and the freeing of the political prisoners.

Both a date and a location for the resumption of the war effort had been decided upon.

It just hadn’t been announced yet.

“Leave will be canceled tomorrow,” Grey told me, much more relaxed after a few glasses of high-quality booze. “And in a few days, we’ll be setting off. We won’t be abandoning Helstein, of course. A sizable force, commanded by Woodrick, will be staying behind in order to defend the city and the north. As agreed, our next target will be the twin cities of Elderwyck and Tlatec. This will be…a tough nut to crack, and I truly don’t expect to take Elderwyck without a fight. Not like Helstein.”

“And…we’re not going to be doing anything to ‘Tlatec’?” I asked curiously. “Because that would piss off the Orcs?” I'd heard something about how this Tlatec belonged to them, which was a bit odd.

“Gods no,” Grey shook his head vigorously. “We cannot afford to antagonize the Orcish Dominion. The nexus of Elderwyck and Tlatec is where the only remaining functional Portal Stone resides. Many, many years ago an agreement was negotiated with Orcish officials for the sale of the land that Tlatec resides on. It wholly belongs to the Dominion now. Assaulting the only Orcish enclave on the face of Vereden would be tantamount to declaring war on the Dominion itself. And make no mistake, Nathan. They would crush us.”

“So, why are we risking attacking Elderwyck then?”

Grey smiled helplessly at me. “Unfortunately, Elderwyck is by far the largest trading hub of Herztal. The Loyalists sought to attack the Uprising where it was most vulnerable by abducting the prisoners we freed at Caer Drarrow. We must now do the same, and make an attempt to starve the Loyalists of a large portion of their funding. Coincidentally, it is also the home of another one of the main backers of the Loyalist faction. Duke Olsen.” Grey’s smile took a vicious edge then, as the man visibly contemplated his revenge once more.

Hmm.

Rip roaring revenge was still on the menu, I see.

Grey calmed down, setting down his glass. In fact, he was looking downright serious as he met my eyes. “Which…brings me to another point that I wish to discuss with you. Some time ago, you alluded to something Nathan. Your, shall we say, explosive growth. To my understanding, you’re over level sixty. Which is…unusual to see, in someone who has only possessed a Status for a mere six months.”

Oh boy.

I took a slow, deep breath, and then let it out just as slowly. Maybe it was just the booze in me, but I wasn’t quite as anxious about this particular point as I used to be.

I guess it was finally time to let the cat out of the bag. I may have dodged it for a while, but…

After all that Grey had done for me, I wasn’t going to outright lie to him about this.

Still, I should be sober for this.

I sat up in my chair, using my middle ring to speed up my metabolism. I’d seen Azarus do something similar to this plenty of times by burning the booze out of his system and had decided to do my best to recreate it. With Ringed Mind, urging my body to process the alcohol quicker was the best I could do. I’d be feeling it later, though.

“Yeah,” I said finally, already feeling more clear-headed. “There’s a reason for that.”

For the next few minutes, while Grey listened patiently, I laid out how I’d been growing so fast.

That is, how I was able to absorb a full portion of level Aether from people that I killed. And…my inconsistent absorption of Skills from people.

“The thing is,” I said somberly, staring down into a glass I wasn’t drinking out of anymore. “I don’t actually know how to trigger it. It’s happened twice, now. Once with Magnus, and once with a knight I fought back at Caer Drarrow. It doesn’t seem to be something I can active at will.”

“Nathan…please, look at me,” I heard Grey say. Dragging my eyes away from my drink, I met his own. Despite the irrational fears that I’d had about Grey rejecting me upon discovering I could gain levels from murder, there wasn’t disdain on his face.

It was a relieving mix of compassion, bewilderment, and honestly a bit of exasperation.

“I can, somewhat, understand why you’ve neglected to mention this before now,” Grey said. “But…it truly isn’t the social disaster you’ve built up in your mind. In reality, if this ability to gain levels and Skills from others was more widely known, you would be the envy of the Classer community.”

I furrowed my brow. “But…I remember you and Azarus agreeing that if people could get levels from killing each other, that it would be a ‘shit-show’.’ I said, making air quotes with my fingers.

Grey barked a short laugh. “Oh, it would be, of that I have no doubt. If everyone else could simply gain levels from waging war against and slaughtering each other, I frankly doubt Vereden would have ever emerged from the chaos of the Initialization Wars. I shudder to imagine the dystopian mire we would have been entrenched into.” He shuddered dramatically in his seat, before sighing. “No…this is a boon for you, and you shouldn’t be scared of sharing it with trusted companions. Thank you for telling me, Nathan.”

I nodded quietly, feeling a little embarrassed. I cleared my throat. “And the Skill stealing?”

Grey shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea,” He said cheerfully. “Two data points are far too few to come to any conclusions. Inform me if it happens again, and perhaps we can work towards understanding this mystery.”

Ah…all right. I guess it was too much to hope that Grey would have all the answers. Despite coming to the wrong conclusion about me, that little shit Oscar was right about one thing.

Grey was only human, in the end. He wasn’t omniscient.

“However,” Grey continued. “This only reinforces a decision I’ve come to. I’ve noticed a trend emerging in your chosen specialization, Nathan. I don’t think that I have to spell it out for you, do I?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said quietly. “You don’t. I’m…becoming an assassin.”

“You are,” Grey nodded slowly. “Your chosen first Class appears to have the archetype of the mystic assassin. Thornblade Acolyte, yes?” At my nod, Grey continued. “Well then. In that case, it’s my job as your mentor to facilitate your growth. To that end, I’ve decided to remove you from the main host of the Uprising.”

I sat up straighter in my chair, mouth falling open in either surprise or protest. I wasn’t quite sure which.

“While an assassin can hold their own in open battle,” Grey kept speaking over any possible protest I could have. “That is not where they’re best utilized. To that end, I’d like to assign you to the Nocturne Division within the Order.”

I settled down, furrowing my brow. “Which would mean...what, in practice?”

Grey smiled at me calmly. “The Nocturne Division is both the intelligence arm of the Order, and where our more…clandestine operatives reside and are trained.”

I took a deep breath. “In other words, assassins.”

Grey inclined his head at me slightly. “Among other things. I believe that you would benefit from the more specialized training you would undergo under their command. I won’t compel you, of course. If you truly wish to remain as part of the main combat force, you are free to do so. I simply think this is the better path for your continued growth. However…if you agree, I will see to it that the master of the Nocturne Division personally sees to your training and oversight. Someone who I trust implicitly, and who ultimately reports to me in all things.”

I was silent for a moment. This…

I…

I see.

I’d been conflicted for a while now, at the thought of how I was becoming an assassin. It was hard to shake my modern upbringing that screamed about how I was a monster for killing so many people, even if it was in battle.

And here I was, being offered the opportunity to become an actual, official assassin.

But…

“It’s probably a good idea,” I said quietly, meeting Grey’s eyes. “Like I said, I get more than most out of killing other people. I…” I grew quiet again for a moment, as through the window I could see dusk give way to darkness. As the curtain of night settled over the city of Helstein, casting Grey’s office in shadow, I nodded slightly. “I’ll do it.”

“I’ll become an assassin.”