The Flawless Defensive Maneuver

The eastern sky was being painted in colors of grey and bruised purple by the first, slender hints of dawn. It was five in the morning. This was Anna's last desperate cry to return to the security of the barracks.

She had just parted ways with Uetum, who had vanished back into the city’s shadows with a promise to wait for Anna's signal.

She was running through a deserted market square, when her newly evolved senses screamed.

She didn’t even have time to think. A figure dropped from above. Two daggers, aimed at a perfect pincer at her neck and spine, closed in.

CLANG!

Maren appeared instantly to block both blades in a shower of sparks, the impact happening a mere inch from Anna’s skin.

The attacker, a slender female wearing a black hood, crouching silently. She let out a loud, furious hiss as she looked up and realized her attack had failed, then melted back into the alleys and vanished entirely. Less than three seconds had passed during the entire meeting.

“Orange tail…?”

"But another hood,” she muttered to herself.

"Can people in this world please get a little more creative with their secret identities?”

Maren zipped out in front of her, her light flickering frantically with post-adrenaline panic. “Mnnaa!!! That was so dangerous, Anna!” she shrieked telepathically. “That was a professional! Her speed was insane! I almost couldn’t deflect her knives! If I didn’t move in time, your head would have been decapitated!”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for that,” Anna said, already starting to walk again, her pace now much faster.

Maren zipped in front of her again, blocking her path, her light pulsing with indignation. “That’s it?! Just ‘thanks for that’?!” she whined.

“I just saved your life from an impossibly fast, super-secret, hooded assassin girl! I deserve more praise! A lot more! You should be telling me I’m the best, most reliable, most beautiful, and fastest holy sword in the entire world! Do it like that! Like Maren is smart!”

“Smart?” Anna stopped, looked down at the pouting, demanding sword, and sighed. She reached out and gently patted Maren’s flat side. “I see… Your reaction time was optimal,” she said, her voice a flat, clinical monotone.

“Your defensive maneuver was executed with ninety-eight percent efficiency. You performed your primary function flawlessly.” She paused, “Good job, Maren.”

Maren’s light pulsed, a happy little hum emanating from her core. It wasn’t exactly gushing praise, but coming from Anna, “flawless execution” was the highest compliment possible.

“Hehe! Optimal efficiency!” she thought smugly, now floating contentedly beside Anna as they hurried back to the barracks before the first rays of the sun could catch them.

In the damp, cramped confines of a Frola back alley. The hooded catgirl assassin stood before three knights, her demeanor unnervingly calm.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, her voice a light, musical purr. “I couldn’t kill that one.”

Sir Baltram’s face, usually a mask of grim seriousness, twisted in rage. “What a stupid cat!!” he snarled, lashing out with a steel-toed boot aimed directly at her head.

The girl leaned back so the kick whistled harmlessly past her nose. She tutted, wagging a finger at him. “Now now, Sir Knight. Don’t you go hitting my face. A lady’s assets have their worth, you know.”

“You call yourself the Knight Killer!” Baltram seethed. “That girl is a parasite! We must kill her!”

“Yeah, I know, she’s very spooky,” the catgirl agreed pleasantly. “But I’m sorry, Sir Baltram. I cannot do it. If her weapon can deflect my fastest, most perfect attack, then to continue would risk myself being found out. My business relies on discretion, not suicide.”

One of the younger knights behind Baltram looked confused and wary. “Sir,” he asked, his voice hesitant, “why are we doing this? Lady Anna saved the Captain. She saved all of us. Why do you want her dead so badly?”

Baltram whirled on his subordinate, “You saw the orcs. You see the corruption spreading day by day. She appeared at the exact same time,” he hissed.

“She is a dark being of immense, unknown power. To trust her is to invite the wolf into our home and pray it doesn’t eat us. I am not a gambler.”

His fury, finding no purchase on his subordinate, turned back to the failed assassin. “Knight Killer, my ass,” he spat. “They said you were the best assassin in all of Frola, yet you gave up in three seconds.”

The catgirl’s mind lit up. She loved a good debate. She gave him a brilliant, condescending smile.

“The best assassin in Frola? Flattery. But for the sake of argument, let’s assume it’s true,” she began, her tone shifting from a hired hand to a lecturing professor.

“The best killer doesn’t win by being the strongest, Sir Knight. They take contracts they can complete and walk away from the ones they can’t. It’s a business model that prioritizes two things: profitability and staying alive.”

She leaned forward, her eyes dancing with amusement. “My contract was to assassinate a girl. The target I engaged turns out was a high-level security system with a girl attached to it. Her sword deflected a two-pronged attack aimed at her vitals before she even had time to react. The sword acted independently.”

She straightened up, dusting off her hands as if finishing a job. “Therefore, the contract is void. The parameters have changed. I didn’t ‘give up in three seconds.’ I completed a threat assessment in three seconds, and the conclusion is this: the price you offered is not high enough to cover the cost of fighting a god’s personal, sentient bodyguard.”

She gave him a final, dazzling smirk. “However, if you’d like to renegotiate the contract to include ‘deity-level artifacts’ and the associated danger pay, my rates are… considerably higher. Otherwise, my professional advice is to run far, far away.”

“This is pointless, what more can we give than the whole operation of the mines?!” Baltram sighed, turning to the second, more imposing figure who had remained silent throughout the exchange—Vice-Captain Olomyar.

“Perhaps we should just tell Sir Nennoch to deal with the vampire. He could surely succeed where we have failed.” Baltram suggest.

“Nennoch is the King’s personal shield,” Olomyar snapped, his voice tight with a rage he could no longer contain. “We cannot simply deploy him like a common soldier!”

“Well!” she said, her voice bright and cheerful. “This has been a truly fascinating consultation. My compliments, gentlemen. It’s a delightful problem that it’s not my problem anymore.”

She placed a hand on her heart in a gesture of mock sincerity. “As an assassin with standards, I cannot in good conscience accept payment for a job not completed. My failure was swift, but it was a failure, nonetheless. You owe me nothing.”

With a final little wave, she began to back away into the shadows.

“So, believe what you want to believe. I wish you the best of luck with your killing. It has been a pleasure doing business, however briefly.”

“Goodbye.”

She then vanished into the night, leaving the two knights and their subordinate to deal with an issue that suddenly appeared even more insurmountable.