On their way back to Belmud, Thyvin had to split ways with Walter. In order to avoid drawing suspicion, they had agreed to return to the city at different times. They sometimes even entered and left the city through differing gate houses as an extra precaution. From there, they would ride to meet at an agreed location, usually a small town, before they set out on their expedition.

As one would expect, they also returned to the same town to collect their horses before they returned to Belmud. Unlike prior trips outside however, Thyvin wasn’t returning with his skeleton knights without Walter for the aforementioned reason alone. Walter also had other business, which he had to attend to before returning home.

Right now, the two of them were within the town’s stable where they left their horses. Thyvin and his skeletons had already gotten on their horses. But before Walter could say his farewells, the necromancer spoke up.

“Are you sure about this? What if the rats betray you?”

Walter responded to Thyvin’s concern with nothing more than indifference.

“If I was worried about them betraying me then you wouldn’t be getting on your horse preparing to return to Belmud.”

With a shrug, he explained himself.

“In my eyes, it is the humans who pose a greater threat than the rats. The latter of the two are cowardly sycophants, they will serve me as long as doing so continues to benefit them. On the other hand, only a handful of humans are opportunistic and even those that are, are nowhere near as opportunistic as the rattmen are.”

Although it was virtually indistinguishable, Walter noticed Thyvin’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. Perhaps it was because of how he referred to humans as ‘the humans,’ as if they were a race entirely different to his own. Even Walter himself was surprised by his own choice of words. But since Thyvin remained silent, Walter mentally shrugged it off and continued.

“There are many different things that may motivate humans other than just greed and self-preservation. For love, for honour, for loyalty. Humans are capable of tremendous and terrible deeds, sometimes both, for either selfish or selfless reasons. Such is a defining trait of humanity.”

“I’ve never thought that I would’ve heard such a… profound quote from a person who spends their time scheming while drinking coffee. If this were a few weeks ago, I would have thought that you were getting sentimental or something.”

Thyvin chuckled as he responded in a joking albeit serious manner.

“But that is not the case. What may seem like ‘sentimentally’ at first is actually just you being your regular callous and calculating self.”

“I’m glad that you think as such.”

Like Thyvin, Walter also let out a slight chuckle before he replied.

“But it’s really time for you to leave. I imagine that your family ‘misses’ you very much.”

Thyvin scoffed in response.

“They’re not even my immediate family so you can spare me your pity.”

With a shrug, Walter questioned Thyvin, the tone of his voice remaining casual.

“I thought that you said that you can see past my sentimentally?”

Thyvin pretended to be offended while he answered back.

“What? I’m not allowed to reply with jokes now either?”

But that expression of fake displeasure was quickly replaced by a more casual and neutral expression. With a light sigh, Thyvin finally announced his leave.

“But you’re right. I should really get going. I’ll be seeing you again Walter. I hope that you have fun on your little expedition.”

Walter smiled as he replied.

“I try to.”

And with those sarcastic parting words, Walter waved Thyvin goodbye as the necromancer got on his horse and rode off with his skeleton knights. While he watched the figures of the necromancer and his skeletons shrink into the distance, Walter took out his pocket watch and checked the time. When he saw that the time was nearly midday, he couldn’t help but smile as he spoke to himself.

“On time as always.”

As if to confirm his statement, another sight appeared on the horizon besides Thyvin’s group. Conversely to Thyvin and his skeletons who were riding away from the town, this other sight grew in size as it drew closer. Retaining that smile on his face, he put his hands in his pockets as he started making his way back towards the town’s inn.

The target has arrived. Now, all he had to do was wait.

Since it was only a small town, it didn’t take long for him to reach the inn. There, he ordered a mug of coffee and took his seat at a vacant table. Of course, its quality was considerably lower than the coffee he ordered at Paulus’s Pleasure Palace. It even lacked five of his usual eight sugar cubes. Nevertheless he still enjoyed it.

While it was not exactly to his preference, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy it. Lifting the mug up to his lips, he contently took sips of it . Admittingly, his love of coffee might be bad for his health. But thanks to this immortal body of his, he didn’t need to concern himself about such things.

Even the coffee’s caffeine served no purpose due to his ability to continue onwards without sleep. Yet he spent his money on something that ultimately served no purpose for him other than to sate his craving for coffee. Just as he was about to take another sip however,–

“Are the t-targets here-present?”

A guttural but nonetheless quiet voice whispered into Walter’s ears.

Damn, if I didn’t need you to be hiding all the time then I would have strapped a bell to you already.

The suddenness of Hasan’s voice came so abruptly that Walter almost spilled his coffee. Thankfully, that had not come to pass. With a single glance upwards, Walter spotted the culprit responsible for nearly costing him his coffee. With his dark brown fur camouflaging with the ceiling, the ‘Chief Assassin of Clan Primis,’ Hasan Ashin, remained out of sight of the inn’s other patrons.

After all, people rarely looked up. In those cases when a person did look up, Hasan’s uncanny abilities meant that he could quickly scamper out of sight before said person even got a proper glimpse of the assassin rattman. It was because of such did Walter enlist the aid of the rattmen. Who or what else could have been a more suitable candidate for Walter’s needs?

The best part of it all was that Walter essentially enlisted the rattmen’s aid, ‘for free.’ There were no expenses incurred in feeding them the literal leftovers produced by Project Green Thumb and should the ‘renovations’ within the mines be a success, then the rattmen would be entirely self-sufficient.

The one thing that Walter had to worry about at that point was ensuring that he monopolised control of the goblin breeding grounds. If the rattmen were to secure that reliable source of food, then Walter would have nothing left to offer them. While they craved other things like ‘arcane stones’ and their lost technology, Walter had access to neither.

Thus, food was the only thing in his arsenal that guaranteed him the rattmen’s loyalty.

After surveying the inn and confirming that all of the other tavern patrons were preoccupied, Walter quickly nodded at the rattman before he resumed drinking his coffee. In all likelihood, Hasan has already disappeared and met with his band of ‘rogue-rats.’ Their target was that ‘other sight’ that Walter spotted prior to returning to the inn.

It was a particular caravan which he held some interest in. When he orchestrated the ‘disappearance’ of Johnathan’s caravan, Walter got himself acquainted with information regarding the caravans related to Belmud. In the meantime, he memorised each and every caravan passing through Belmud’s walls since there was no harm in doing so.

Among the information he dedicated to memory, he remembered that a caravan transporting mining equipment from Belmud to the south-eastern Valhan city of Sajuhan often stopped at this small town for a rest. Usually, they arrived here around midday. In other words, they usually arrived now.

Walter believed that it would be expedient for the rattmen to ‘appropriate’ the mining equipment for themselves. He didn’t need to explain the advantages of replacing their old, rusty pick axes with newly crafted ones, especially since the possession of those tools will speed up their mining excavations.

Apart from that, Walter also wanted to check the rats’ worth.

…

About an hour later, the caravan has started to move again. With full bellies and sufficient rest, the carriage’s coachmen sat at the driver’s seat of their respective carriage while their accompanying guard escorts mounted their horses. Soon, they exited the plains surrounding the town and entered the vast lands that made up the Valhan Forests.

It was just such a shame that all the food that those man-things consumed would ultimately go to waste.

For Hasan and his band of rogue-rats were not far behind. As rattmen, they had to endure the agony caused by their insatiable hunger. Even Hasan’s hunger would persist even though he enjoyed more food than most other rattmen. As such, he would feel contempt surge within his heart whenever he witnessed members of other races take food for granted.

If he weren’t an assassin, he would have felt inclined to draw out the suffering of those man-things. But the case was that he was an assassin and because of that, he must act professionally. Apart from food, reputation was also very important for his kind. Reputation decided whether a rattman deserved a larger portion of the feast, or if a rattman deserved to be the feast.

Brutes like Rootek received their reputation from their unrelenting strength and fierce disposition, there were little rattmen in their right mind who would dare contest such savages. While on the other side of the spectrum, there were ‘wise’ rattmen like Kyat who mastered the mystical arts of plague magic.

Instead of savagely tearing their enemies apart like Rootek, Kyat preferred the more insidious approach of blasting his enemies from afar with his plague magic. Although death may not be instant, the unimaginable pain caused by his magic was an arguably worse fate. If Kyat was a little braver, he would have been the Warlord of Clan Primis instead of Rootek.

As for Hasan, his reputation stemmed from something. His ability to bring death from the shadows.

“Kuak.”

The coachman of the backmost carriage croaked before he slumped backwards. Despite the fact that a crossbow bolt was embedded into his neck, causing him to cough and spit blood, the horses continued pulling his carriage onward while the guards have yet to take note of their dying comrade.

Seeing this pathetic sight, Hasan sniggered.

“Kekekek, f-fools.”

Whilst loading another bolt into his crossbow, Hasan silently sprinted across the dense forest vegetation, his targets still unaware of their impending doom. Rattmen were naturally light and quick on their feet, the fact that Hasan spent his life honing his speed and stealth meant that his capabilities far exceeded the extraordinary standards set by his kin.

“Guark!”

“Koak!”

“Chiek!”

Starting from the back, the mounted riders and coachmen were sniped by the other rogue-rats, all of whom were also quick and quiet. Although they were inferior to Hasan, their skills were adequate enough for them to be admitted into his band. With their aid, he was sure that his prominence within Clan Primis would remain uncontested.

Especially now that he had the ‘backing’ of a… ‘thing’ which seemed to be immortal. If Hasan were to succeed in this task given out to him by said thing, then his value within both Clan Primis and to that thing should increase. The other prominent rattmen aren’t conceited enough to deny the benefits brought to them by Hasan should he succeed.

The keyword being ‘succeed.’ Fortunately for himself, Hasan never failed. With every passing moment, more men would drop dead with a crossbow bolt stuck in their vital organs while their comrades remained oblivious. Those who realised that something was off also dropped dead shortly before they alarmed anybody.

By the time it was over, the caravan continued onward as if nothing happened at all. The only two things that changed was that their destination has changed and that the ‘people’ driving the carriages were not the same ones who set out from Belmud.

The horses didn’t even notice a difference.