Hitman with a Badass System

"They're all dead?" Michael inquired, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"It's just you and me now, lad. I never even asked your name," Rurik remarked, sighing.

"John," Michael offered a fabricated name.

"Alright, John. Do you still want to join the guild?" Rurik asked, and Michael casually shrugged.

"Yeah, unless you go back on your word," Michael reminded him. Thankfully, Rurik shook his head.

"We did suffer a significant loss. But fortunately, most of the master blacksmiths aren't here in this guild. We can replace the guards. It's a pity we lost Aranion and Nazrag," Rurik lamented as he gazed at the lifeless bodies of his fellow master blacksmiths.

"The sooner we hand this cursed artifact to the Silverbrooks, the better," Rurik continued. Michael nodded in agreement. With the tracker and spyder discreetly embedded within the artifact, he couldn't wait to uncover the secrets behind the Silverbrook family's request for the blacksmith guild to forge it.

"You mentioned that most of the master blacksmiths aren't here. Where are they?" Michael inquired.

"They're all in Ironhold," Rurik replied, assuming Michael was familiar with the term. However, Michael's furrowed brow indicated his lack of knowledge about Ironhold.

"It's Titan's domain, the god of all metals," Rurik explained, broadening Michael's understanding of the realm of gods.

"Most of the Sagespire members had gone to represent our guild in Ironhold. Thank Fortuna for their visit. Otherwise, our whole guild would have been doomed," Rurik expressed his gratitude to the Goddess of Luck.

Michael, however, didn't believe in luck, despite the existence of a goddess of luck. Instead, he believed that everything happened for a reason.

"We need to keep everything under wraps until the guild master returns," Rurik suggested, leaning against the table beside Michael. The dwarf retrieved a large pipe and began to smoke nervously.

"Want a whiff?" Rurik offered, but Michael declined with a shake of his head.

"You aren't just a blacksmith, are you? I saw how you fought; you're a killing machine," Rurik remarked.

"I've picked up a few things along the way. The question you should be asking is, who are these guys?" Michael responded.

"I don't know. We can't ask anyone. If word gets out, we'll look weak, and every troublemaker in the kingdom will try to get their hands on our valuables. The first thing we have to do is hire new bodyguards," Rurik declared.

"I thought Sagespire was free of fighting and criminals," Michael remarked, only to hear Rurik chuckle.

"Lad, every kingdom has criminal scum. Sagespire is not an exception. Seshat might take pride in saying her domain has the least crime rate, but it doesn't mean it's zero," Rurik explained.

As they conversed, Vedora slithered over to Michael, who gently picked them up and placed them comfortably on his shoulder. Michael then turned his attention back to Rurik.

"Why don't we go and hand over this artifact to the Silverbrooks?" Michael suggested, watching Rurik release a steady stream of smoke before responding.

"Hmm. Arlen might be able to give us some idea about who these murderers were and why they are after the artifact. I'm sure it's a complicated artifact, but I didn't see anything that makes it worth going against a whole guild," Rurik pondered.

"It depends on how you look at it," Michael replied.

"What do you mean?" Rurik inquired.

"This artifact absorbs lightning, right? Who stands to lose more and gain more if this artifact gets out?" Michael asked.

Rurik mulled it over for a moment, connecting the dots in his mind. After a while, something clicked.

"The war between Rainar and Kranar... Do you think this is the work of a god?" Rurik asked, a shiver running down his spine at the mere thought of a god's involvement.

"We can't be certain. But it makes sense. No small-time criminal would go against a goddess's rules. They not only fought us but also murdered the blacksmiths, including the master blacksmiths, without giving a damn about the consequences. They were desperate and probably monitoring the guild for some time," Michael explained.

Then, Michael cradled the artifact in his hand, studying the cubical object.

"Whatever it is, we need to get this to the Silverbrooks and let them handle the rest," he decided.

"Why don't you take this artifact to the Silverbrooks while I get rid of the bodies and hire us some muscle? Unless you want to fill out mountains of paperwork to hire muscle," Rurik suggested.

"We hate paperwork. Screw that, we're taking it to the Silverbrooks," Ayag immediately chimed in, her childlike voice eliciting a chuckle from Rurik.

"Just follow the street signs and ask others on the street if you get lost. Everyone here knows the way to the Silverbrook family. Once you get there, ask for Arlen and show him this, and tell him I sent you," Rurik instructed, tossing a metal badge with a hammer engraving to Michael.

"You're trying to escape fighting, aren't you?" Ayag rolled her eyes, but Michael quickly laughed and playfully knocked her on the head.

"He's not a fighter. He's a blacksmith. I'll do this," Michael clarified. Rurik sighed in resignation.

"Meet me back here when you finish everything," Rurik said, then picked up the empty glass case.

"Put the artifact in the box," he instructed.

Michael gently placed the artifact into the glass casing. The unique nature of the artifact prevented it from being stored in a normal space ring, but Rurik was unaware that Michael had his own system storage, capable of holding almost anything. For the time being, Michael settled the artifact into the glass casing and covered it with a cloth.

"See you later then," Michael bid farewell, and Rurik nodded. They went their separate ways, with Michael leaving the hall and eventually stepping out into the bustling street. The people in the street were oblivious to the massacre that had just occurred within the guild hall. The crowd consisted mostly of scholars going about their daily activities. Michael walked along the street, clutching the artifact carefully.

"It says to go north," Sarba remarked after reading a road sign that indicated the direction to the Silverbrook compound. Michael followed the road signs, blending in with the crowd as they engaged in various conversations, most of which revolved around the Divine Tower auction.

As he navigated through the streets, Michael couldn't help but notice that someone was following him from behind.

"Don't turn around. Someone's trailing us," Michael quietly informed Vedora. He managed to catch a glimpse of the blue-robed figure, hooded to conceal their face, following him in a shop's window reflection.

With a sly grin on his face, Michael turned into the next alley and deftly stowed the artifact away in his space ring.

"He's taking the shortcut," Ayag commented. But Michael had anticipated this move; any professional tailing someone wouldn't follow their target into a secluded alley.

As Michael emerged from the alley back onto the bustling street, the individual who had been tailing him abruptly stopped in their tracks.

"Now, they're probably wondering where the artifact went," Sarba chuckled.

"He'll most likely head into the alley we came from and thoroughly search those dumpsters," Michael said with a sly grin.

Having successfully shaken off the pursuer, Michael continued his journey towards the Silverbrook compound.

Michael finally reached the compound of the Silverbrook noble house. He marveled at the sight before him. The compound was surrounded by protective walls, elegantly adorned with intricate designs. Pink maple trees lined the path leading to the main gate, their leaves shimmering like rose petals in the gentle breeze.

The palace of the elves stood at the heart of the compound, a breathtaking sight to behold. It was an architectural masterpiece, with graceful spires and delicate carvings that seemed to dance in the dappled sunlight.

As Michael approached the main gate, two elven guards, clad in ornate armor, stopped him. They raised their eyebrows inquisitively, their sharp eyes assessing him.

"Halt," one of the guards said, his voice musical yet commanding. "State your name and your purpose for coming to the Silverbrook house."

Michael met their gaze with a respectful nod. "I am John," he replied, using the fake name he had given earlier. "I've been sent to deliver an important artifact to Lord Arlen Silverbrook. Rurik, the master blacksmith of the blacksmith guild, sent me."

The two guards exchanged a brief glance before one of them nodded. "Very well, John. Wait here for a moment while we verify your information."

Michael watched as the guard disappeared into the compound, his footsteps almost soundless on the paved street.

Eventually, the elven guard returned to Michael, his demeanor slightly more relaxed. He nodded at Michael.

"Lord Arlen has agreed to see you. Follow me," the guard said, and with that, the massive metal gate swung open, granting them access to the enchanting compound.

Michael followed closely behind the elven guard, his steps echoing softly on the paved pathway. The surroundings of the Silverbrook compound were nothing short of breathtaking. Lush gardens with vibrant flowers, a serene courtyard adorned with intricate sculptures, and elegant water fountains—all added to the enchanting charm of the noble house.

The enchanting gardens, with the elves carefully tending to the colorful plants and flowers. Following the lead of the elven guard, Michael made his way to the grand front door of the palace. Two more elven guards stood sentinel at the entrance, their presence an imposing reminder of the importance of the place.

As he approached, the elven woman in shining metal armor addressed him. "If you have any weapons, please leave them with us," she requested.

Michael nodded. "No weapons." Since he had stashed his dark swords in the system storage and had refrained from wearing his armor, he easily complied with their request.

The male elven guard stepped forward and began a thorough search of Michael's person. After patting him down, he gestured towards the cloth-covered artifact. "What's inside this?" he inquired with curiosity.

"You don't need to know that, soldier," came a stern voice from within the palace. Michael turned his gaze over the guards' shoulders to see Arlen, the lord of the Silverbrook family, approaching with a retinue of guards clad in full metal plate armor.

"Who are you? This had better not be one of Rurik's elaborate pranks. I'm not in the mood for such games right now," Arlen said with a hint of frustration.

"Is that it? He told me it's not ready," Arlen added, his expression turning thoughtful.

"That was until I joined the guild. I helped them complete it," Michael responded confidently, which visibly surprised Arlen.

"Follow me," Arlen instructed. Although he had numerous questions, he decided it was best to save them for a more suitable time, not at the doorway to the palace.