“A kranhor,” Velgar’s cold and harsh voice rang across the courtroom, “So do we have a deal? You beat the Prince to the verge of death then bring him to me. With him at hand, I can kill every bird with one stone. Saran will be helpless and do as I wish. He will come to the Kingdom of Uraemorn we I kill that bothersome insect once in for all, with him gone Calarant and both Vazguerd falls. All those collaborations he has earned with every kingdom, race, village, city, and country will be no more, and they will all fall. Without Saran hope is gone from this world and it shall be mine once again.”
“And you will give me all the land that Saran held,” Akranhor’s deep and cold voice rumbled.
“Depends on the quality of your work, but yes,” Velgar smiled.
“Then it is agreed upon,” Akranhor nodded and stood to leave.
“Are you sure you’d rather not take with you some troops,” Desirath suggested.
“I am fine, with the assassins and thieves I have all trained. The Crimson Blades have honor and pride, and taking your troops will show weakness to our noble clan,” Akranho replied with a sharp tone suggesting he didn’t need Lord Desirath’s help or suggestions. Working aside with filthy Shadow-Walkers was the last thing he wanted, after all, Velgar was his enemy. Yet an assassin for hire, hired by his enemy still must do what he is paid to. Then he can doublecross and silently kill them all.
“Ah, one more thing,”Aredor said, “The last living dragoon-”
“Yes, I shall consider it,” said Akranhor. Great, now this fool wishes for me to assassinate a dragoon. The noble Dragon Knights that powers show no bounds, the relentless knights with the ability to leap as high as a hundred feet into the air and in a single leap soar through the air for a mile. Possessing the element and magic of wind and air combined with their relentless tactics and excellence in aerial combat, they are masters and have telepathic communication with dragons, it is said their armor holds the essence of a dragon. And yet, this fiend wishes me to fight one?
“Consider,” Grinhad grunted, the brute looked like an oversized dwarf with the strength of a hundred Kevlars, “You will do it, assassin!”
Akranhor’s patience was being tested, they considered him a insect that bit back, he gritted his teeth, “Then why shall you not accomplish this, Grinhad? Is it because you know the dragoon would demolish you in three seconds?”
“Shut your inconsiderate mouth,” Belgorn scowled, “Can you do it, or not?”
“For the right price, he’ll do anything,” sneered Mexan, “Isn’t that right, Akranhor?”
“Practically,” muttered Akranhor.
“He isn’t the Assassin Lord for anything,” Velgar said and the villains laughed, their harsh, cold, and sharp laughter made Akranhor cringe. Which was quite shocking considering the man hardly flinched, not when knife was thrown into his side not when he blasted with a spell.
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Dark Magic and Assassins of Akranhor (Book 2 of the Shadow Chronicles)Fantasy
The 2nd Installment to the Book 1 of the Shadow Chronicles. . . A new adventure writ in shadows, wielded by steel, and awaited in betrayal shakes Astrania once more. . . Pentus once again finds himself trapped in an inevitable war between the Emp...