Headed by a Snake

The Tree God's Forest was not a particularly dangerous place for high-rank adventurers. If Zhevra was going to be killed by anything-- it was by boredom.

Sol Invictus' travels were... painfully slow. Even though they had TWO Gold-Ranks with them, they insisted on fighting... every... single... creature and pack of creatures they came into contact with.

Not even the trees were spared by a certain fiery Arcanist and a Corallidus with an enchanted fire weapon.

Still... Zhevra remained vigilant for an opportunity for her and Vyzen to assassinate any of their marks.

The human Captain, Krysaos, wisely kept himself surrounded by his loyal lackeys. The ones she'd paid off were not doing their part...

She considered targeting various members of the Corallidae crew... but besides being astonishingly difficult to kill, the hulking behemoths kept bottles of seawater to heal their injuries. One of their number was severely crippled... but after only cursory observation, Zhevra deemed that one to be so useless, killing him would be a waste of energy.

Over the course of several suns, she'd only managed to separate and kill one... a blind Corallidus. He begged to be spared on account of having a pregnant lover.

Murdering him was satisfying... but only a single kill was hardly enoguh to sate her bloodlust for half-a-sun.

As for Tycon, the leader of Sol Invictus...

According to the information she'd collected, he was a Gold-Rank, cunning and dangerous. He was also the most paranoid adventurer Zhevra had had the displeasure of tracking.

She could count on a single hand the number of times he exposed himself to danger throughout the journey...

While she was certain she could defeat him with Vyzen's help-- especially as he didn't seem to belong to a Martial Class... it was far too risky. Guild Leader Tycon always watched the shadows for danger... kept in peak condition, and had a variety of strange Support-type Skills that he could activate on any of his goons or whores.

Zhevra was thankful she had Vyzen as an outlet for her... frustrations. If she didn't, she was certain she'd have torn up The Wizard's contract and abandoned the mission. The beaches of Valsene were only a few suns away, if they were to steal a carriage...

She found a chance after nearly a week had passed.

The male elf struck out on his own.

Zhevra's employer expressly stated that he was the only member of Sol Invictus' party not to be harmed. However, it was a golden opportunity for her to plant a seed of discord within their group.

She instructed her brother to lie still in wait. If the Ancient tried to attack her he would die in a hurricane of razor-sharp mana wires and a barrage of automatic rifle fire-- regardless of The Wizard's not-so-gentle suggestions.

As quiet as a ghost, Zhevra dropped down from her tall tree and into the thick brush foliage.

The elf came to a stop, resting a foot atop a fallen log. He stood, picturesque, underneath a beacon of light where the sun broke through the canopy.

Handsome. Well-muscled. Heroic.

It was also one of the stupidest things anyone could do. He was a perfectly illuminated target... and as his eyes were adjusting to the light, it would be nigh impossible to see her in the shadows.

Zhevra had to fight against the urge to aim down the sights of her rifle and put two well-placed shots in the man's head and chest.

But though she was well-hidden and advantaged... the elf's glowing eyes scanned the area in Zhevra's direction.

"This king knows not how he has offended thee, Warrior-- but know this... Thy hostile designs have not gone unnoticed."

Zhevra rolled her eyes. The Gold-Rank elf had the rare ability to sense killing intent... That meant he could probably accurately assess her brother's location. Hiding his emotions was not one of his strong points.

According to her Mage informants, the elf was an Ancient-- a very, very old elf that had amassed a large amount of mana over several centuries. He had a trait common to all Elven Ancients. His eyes glowed with power, a golden flame that took more effort to hide than not.

The Wizard seemed to think he may have been some kind of reincarnated deity.

Zhevra was tempted to test that theory. She'd always wanted to kill a god.

Unfortunately, when she was trying to gauge the Ancient's abilities, she heard worrisome news from one of her Elven contacts in House Vulkoori.

The Ancient had defeated the Chieftain of the Ebon Mask tribe in single combat... a woman who was supposedly the most powerful Gold-Rank in the Eastern States.

The elves called him... the King from Across the Seas. They seemed to think he was an Ancient with delusions of grandeur who had been in-hiding for centuries.

Though a lesser assassin might have abandoned the mission on account of its difficulty, it was a boon for Zhevra.

Nobles were always easier to manipulate than commoners. Having some form of education, they took pride in their intelligence. With the arrogance of their upbringing, they often held fast to their beliefs, discounting any proof contrary.

Manipulating a noble was only as difficult as tricking them into 'discovering' an idea and claiming it as their own.

Zhevra slung her Turathi rifle over shoulder to rest on her back and emerged from the brush, making a show of her open palms.

"Greetings, Sovereign," She moved gracefully, slowly... and wearing a subtle, non-threatening smile. "My name is Zhevra... I am not here to fight."

"So there were two of you?" The glaring elf nodded... "Runic markings cover thy face and arms... you are... Demon-kin? Nay... Merragon heritage... Devil, then."

Merragon? That was a word she hadn't heard before. However, the noble spoke with such certainty that she decided to accept it as truth.

Zhevra bowed, deep and low, to hide her surprise. Simultaneously, she swished her tail behind her to signal to Vyzen to withdraw and find a new hiding place...

She had always done her research on the targets of her assassinations.

That her current mark knew something about her than she knew herself... was an ominous sign.