"Before we trade," I said, keeping my gaze steady on the veiled figure before me, "I think we should introduce ourselves."
She didn't flinch. Her voice was smooth and calm, like moonlight brushing across a quiet lake.
"Names have power. Someone in your position should know that."
"Well then, what should I call you? I can't keep saying 'you', can I?"
She let out a faint breath that might have been amusement.
"You make a good point. You can call me... the Veiled One."
"Bit on the nose, don't you think?" I smirked. "You already know who I am. But still, call me Uvar."
"So, Uvar. What kind of secrets are you here to trade?"
I leaned forward. This was the important part. "Before we begin... we need to make a system oath."
Her head tilted slightly. A flicker of surprise and something sharper, more dangerous, glinted in her eyes. But then she smiled.
"You know about system oaths. Very well."
She placed her hand over the table and spoke solemnly,
"I, as the Assessor of Secrets, will give fair value to information traded to me by Uvar."
I followed.
"I, as Uvar, will provide accurate information and accept the conditions."
Together, we spoke in unison,
"We, as users, bind our oaths to the system and ask for it to be held."
A pulse of heat surged through my chest, like a thin needle piercing my forehead and heart at once. It faded as quickly as it came. The air suddenly felt heavier, filled with the echo of something binding and unseen.
She scowled faintly. "We are now bound. Begin."
"What will you give me for the method to gain a rare title up to Tier 3?"
She blinked once her expression unreadable, then subtly impressed.
"We can give you 20,000 gold for such a secret."
"What if it's up to Tier 4?"
Her voice didn't waver.
"One hundred thousand gold."
I couldn't help but widen my eyes. That much? I'd underestimated how rare high-tier titles were, even common ones.
"Ahem." I cleared my throat. "Then what about a common title, up to Tier 4?"
"Fifty thousand gold."
Interesting. Even Tier 4 common titles were highly prized. I only needed enough gold for the assassin information... but this was an opportunity. Money meant power—power to move, to influence, to build.
Thoughts swirled through my head, strategies blooming like wildfire. I must have stayed silent too long, because she leaned in slightly.
"Hello? Are you still here?"
I snapped out of my thoughts. "Yes. I'll trade the acquisition method for a common title up to Tier 4. Is that acceptable?"
She closed her eyes briefly, then nodded.
"The title?"
"Relentless. It's a common one. I assume you already know how to acquire Tier 1 and Tier 2?"
"Yes. Public knowledge." She nodded again. "We can offer 45,000 gold."
A fair deal. Maybe even generous unless she expected me to trade the rare title method next.
"Agreed." I paused, recalling the requirements. "As you know, Tier 1 is obtained by ramming through a wooden door ten times in five minutes. Tier 2 , hit a boulder or cliff a thousand times in two days."
"We know"
"Tier 3 is different. You need to kill two thousand monsters weaker than you... in one week."
Her fingers stopped drumming. "And Tier 4?"
"You need to run the same dungeon... thirty times in two weeks."
"Do you know the descriptions for Tier 3 and 4?"
I gave a sly grin. "Maybe I do. But I'm not giving it for free."
She clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed.
"We'll offer the contractor's identity in exchange."
That got my attention.
"Deal."
She leaned forward, her tone more formal now. "Then proceed."
"Tier 3 reads:
'You are relentless. People judged you for your hardheaded way. Mocked you for running with your eyes closed. But you persevered and were rewarded.
Defensive skills are 100% more effective. You can acquire: Iron Skin.
Conditions:
Consume 1kg of metal.
Consume 10kg of boar skin.'"
"Do you know how strong Iron Skin is?"
"It gives decent protection. Especially against blades and arrows."
"And Tier 4?"
"'Are you a rock falling down a hill? Why aren't you stopping?'
Defensive skills are 150% more effective. You gain the skill: Defense.
Conditions:
Get hit by 100 arrows.
Ram into a gate with all your strength."
She nodded slowly. "As dramatic as ever. The system honors the oath. The trade is complete."
She went still. For a moment, it felt like even the shadows in the room were waiting.
Then, in a voice completely stripped of emotion, she said:
"The person who requested the assassination... is the Crown Prince."
I felt my blood freeze. "Crown Prince of what?" I said sharply, voice rising.
"The crown prince of this kingdom. Heir to the throne of Dambe."
Jason. Crown Prince Jason?
Why?
.
.
.
I don't even remember how I got back to my room. My body must have carried me while my mind was consumed.
The Crown Prince. My own country's heir. Why would he want me dead? Why target my sister?
The Solitary Inn never gives false information. That much, I knew.
I searched my memories for answers, but came up empty. In my past life, after my sister's death, I spent months in a drunken haze my memories are fogged and splintered.
Only when Father was arrested and put on trial for heresy did I begin to see how broken the world truly was.
But this... this betrayal cuts deeper.
I will not let this madness continue. I will not let them hurt her again.
The anger burning in my chest sharpens righteous, focused. I remember Father's tireless service to the kingdom how he held the borders against Presh for years. And this... this is his reward?
A dagger in the back. An assassin for his daughter.
No more.
[Title Acquired: Righteous Anger]