Chapter 61: Assassination Failed

Things had reached this point, and Merry felt that this commission was practically more than halfway done. What he needed to consider now was how to slip away quietly and escape without anyone noticing before his actions came to light. If it were discovered that the target had been assassinated, the entire Catlin Castle would be thrown into a state of emergency, and slipping away easily at that point would become a formidable task.

Indeed, Merry had never once considered the possibility of failure!

In his view, when assassinating an important figure like Kay, the most difficult part was getting past the outer perimeter. Once he managed to approach the target, everything else was already sealed.

Kay was undoubtedly a formidable opponent, but that was Kay when he was fully awake. The current Kay was still immersed in a deep slumber. To kill him required nothing more than a single dagger, leaving no need to overcomplicate things.

That was how Merry thought, and that was precisely what he intended to do.

Kay's room was on the topmost floor of the castle, accessible by only a single exit—a corridor. Because it did not require a heavy guard presence, only two soldiers were stationed at the corridor's entrance. Merry had hidden in the corner to observe quietly and discovered that entering Kay's quarters was possible only through this hallway. Furthermore, the two soldiers appeared to be in good spirits, likely having just finished a shift change.

With the corridor entrance entirely devoid of cover, sneaking past would be impossible unless both men were blind.

Therefore, he would simply have to resort to unorthodox methods.

At this thought, Merry smiled and turned away. A short while later, he reappeared, having somehow acquired and donned a servant's uniform, and strolled over with a swagger. His expression was utterly natural, as if he were simply walking through his own home, betraying no sign of abnormality.

Just like that, Merry marched right past the two guards with an air of complete confidence.

The two guards spotted Merry the moment he emerged, but his casual demeanor prevented them from reacting instantly, assuming he was merely part of the castle staff. It was only as Merry drew closer that they remembered this was Sir Kay's room, where no one was permitted passage at this hour.

Just as they were about to call out to Merry and question him, Merry abruptly raised a finger to his lips, making a shushing gesture, and then pointed toward the room at the far end of the corridor.

Upon seeing this, the two guards understood immediately. His gesture meant to keep it down because Sir Kay was asleep. Giving it no further thought, the guards actually felt he made a valid point; it would be disastrous if they woke Sir Kay at such a late hour. Consequently, they cooperated completely, falling silent and motioning for Merry to step closer so they could question him in hushed tones, intending to send him on his way if nothing was amiss.

This was precisely what Merry wanted. As a veteran assassin, he understood human nature thoroughly. Had he approached aggressively or crept around stealthily, the two guards would have challenged him loudly at once, as such behavior unmistakably signaled malicious intent. Conversely, by striding out boldly and confidently, the guards would never immediately suspect him of harboring ill intentions.

After all, these soldiers had only recently arrived in this small town and were entirely unfamiliar with the local inhabitants. Combined with Merry's servant attire, they naturally assumed he was one of the castle domestics.

Merry approached the two guards with a beaming smile.

"What are you doing here?" one of the soldiers asked in a low voice.

Merry deliberately glanced toward the room at the end of the corridor, then beckoned the two soldiers, signaling them to lean in closer. His expression and movements were dripping with natural ease. Suspecting nothing, the two soldiers leaned forward as requested.

The very instant their heads drew near, Merry's hands flashed outward, and two daggers sliced across the soldiers' throats in a fluid motion. Stunned by the sudden assault, the two guards instinctively tried to cry out, but Merry's strike was mercilessly swift; the daggers that had just crossed their throats had already severed their vocal cords, denying them any opportunity to make a sound.

Immediately after slitting their throats, Merry considerately caught both men, clamping his hands tightly over their mouths and noses to accelerate their demise. In less than ten seconds, the asphyxiation combined with rapid blood loss plunged both men into shock. At that stage, shock and death were practically indistinguishable—they were beyond saving.

As the hissing sound of spurting blood gradually faded, Merry gently lowered the two bodies to the ground without making the slightest noise.

Having dealt with the guards, Merry did not leave immediately. Instead, he stood in place for a brief moment, listening intently for any disturbance. Finding the surroundings still deathly quiet, Merry smiled with satisfaction and walked softly toward Kay's room.

The door to the room was easily opened. In this era, door locks were hardly sophisticated; most were simple latch-style mechanisms that could be sprung with a few gentle maneuvers using a dagger. Such petty work was common knowledge even to third-rate thieves, let alone the King of Assassins.

However, unlike an ordinary thief, Merry was in no rush to force the door, proceeding with extreme caution. He knew that the person sleeping inside this room was the greatest knight among all the Celtic realms. Any noticeable commotion might easily wake him, and if he were discovered, he could not be certain another such opportunity would ever present itself.

Therefore, he preferred to be slow and absolute rather than fast and risky.

Of course, speed is relative to the practitioner. Bearing the title of the King of Assassins, Merry's craft was naturally beyond the reach of common pickpockets; even at his most cautious, it took him no more than five seconds to pop the lock. Merry gripped the doorknob, lifted it upward with gentle pressure, and slowly pushed the door open. This technique prevented the hinges from squeaking.

As the door gradually swung inward, Merry quickly located his target.

Without a moment's hesitation, shedding his previous caution, Merry lunged toward the bed in a single bound and drove his short sword fiercely down into the mounded blankets!

Yet the exact microsecond the blade pierced the bedding, Merry felt a surge of dread!

The tactile feedback from the short sword was entirely wrong—it lacked the resistance of flesh and bone! There was no one beneath the blankets!

Merry instantly realized he had been exposed. He dropped the short sword in his grasp and turned to flee. Regrettably, he was a fraction of a second too late. A longsword silently thrust out from beneath the bed, slicing cleanly through Merry's legs just above the knees as if cutting through butter!

"Agh!" Considered a tough man, Merry cried out only twice upon having his legs severed. He even attempted to put up a desperate last stand, but the blinding agony had already stripped him of his strength, placing his dagger far out of reach of the target.

Merry collapsed onto the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure slowly crawling out from under the bed. That figure was none other than his target—Kay! At this point, how could he not realize that this man had seen through him all along and simply waited for him to walk into the trap?

"How did you figure it out?!" This was the one thing Merry could not fathom. He was certain he had made no mistakes and should have been undetectable.

Kay rubbed his nose and said with a contemptuous smile, "You shouldn't have killed the soldiers at the door. The smell of blood was far too strong."

Before Merry could utter another word, a boot appeared in his field of vision, and he instantly lost consciousness, blacking out completely!

...

Though Merry had passed out quickly and maintained his tough exterior, his initial cry had indeed rung out. In the dead stillness of the small hours of the morning, a sudden scream was jarringly abrupt. Combined with Kay's strict military discipline—where even in the pre-dawn hours the sentries were vigilant—those two screams quickly alerted the guards stationed downstairs. In less than a minute, a squad of soldiers came rushing over in a hurried stampede.

Upon reaching Kay's room, they found Kay standing in his nightshirt, sword in hand, while an unfamiliar Black man lay collapsed on the floor.

"An assassin, and still breathing. Take him away, staunch his wounds, and don't let him die. I want to find out who ordered this assassination!" Seeing the troops arrive, Kay did not fly into a rage; instead, he issued his orders with absolute calm.

The soldiers, however, lacked Kay's nerves. The realization that someone had attempted to assassinate Sir Kay nearly frightened them out of their wits. After all, they were responsible for security; if Sir Kay had truly fallen to an assassin, their own fates hardly required imagining.