Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite]

'Lone. Lone. Lone. Lone. Lone. Lone. Lone. Lon-'

"I'm back," he answered physically as he winced. "What's the emergency?"

Soph stared at him for a second then nodded in relief. "A dwarven man who I think is roughly an SS-ranker has been standing at the very edge of my Mana Sensing, just inside of it. He somehow knows I can 'see' him. He has his hands up in surrender. I think he wants to talk, but he hasn't moved his mouth yet so I dunno. Sophie and I can't think of any other reason he'd do that though."

"Well, that's certainly not what I was expecting," Lone said as he sat up. "How does he know us? Knowing we're here makes sense. The guild quests were taken publicly, but approaching us peacefully? Sounds more suspicious and potentially dangerous than a frontal attack, to be honest. Think you could kill him?"

"Dunno," Soph frowned. "I could create barriers around him instantly, maybe try to form some inside of him, but I'm worried he'll smash them or that that might anger him. I haven't practised that enough yet to know how dangerous it'll be on higher-ranked people. I can tell his mana organs aren't awakened so he's either raw power or speed focused. Not a great match-up for my barriers if he really is an SS-ranker. You know my way of checking is flawed. He could be an SSS-ranker for all I know and would just laugh at my piddly little barriers."

Lone mulled over that for a second before saying, "I took a good hit from Guildmaster Hilda, a Strength-focused SS-ranker and was mostly fine. I'll armour up, go meet him, and the second I'm in talking distance, surround him in barriers except for his mouth. If he tries to break free, try to kill him. I'll blast him with Mental Destruction too. Hopefully, he's here for a chat, but being safe over sorry is always wise. I'd sooner antagonise or outright kill an innocent powerful man than risk you or Breena getting hurt or killed."

Soph nodded. "Don't hesitate. I certainly won't."

Lone chuckled. He leaned over and kissed her. "You and Sophie have a lot in common, 'y'know? You can be just as brutal as her, and she just as adorable as you."

Soph beamed a smile in his direction. "Stop, you! I need to focus, not blush! Let's deal with this guy and go back to sleep. You need to tell me about your weird 'meeting' too."

Lone agreed, thus, he invoked his Bone Armour, left the house, and then bolted down the street following the directions Soph was telepathically giving him.

Before long, he could see the man in question. As Soph has described, his arms were up in a gesture of peace. He was kitted out from head to toe in silky-looking leather armour. It was oddly hard to focus on as if it were enchanted to make lingering gazes move past it, forgetting the man was even there.

His face was entirely covered in black-dyed cloth wrappings, even his eyes. Not a single part of the dwarf could be seen or identified.

Suddenly and without warning, transparent green barriers appeared out of nowhere and surrounded the man, hugging his armour as tightly as possible without literally crushing him. Every fraction of a second, more and more layers of barriers stacked upon the old ones, further working to imprison the man.

Lone saw it as a good sign that the dwarf didn't try to break Soph's magic nor even try to resist a tiny bit even as dozens upon dozens of more layers were added. Soph clearly didn't intend to let her over 3,000,000 MP go to waste here.

If one barrier couldn't stop him, then she'd make 100. If 100 wouldn't suffice, then 1,000.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Lone asked, ready to use the Blood Clone swimming about in his veins to rocket his body unnaturally to the side in the case of a sudden attack.

It was unlikely the man had an attack at his disposal that could break through the layers of barriers so thick they weren't even transparent anymore, but still, caution was the living man's best friend.

"... I was right. Following through would spell disaster even upon completion," the man said flawlessly and without a trace of an accent to be found. His wrappings didn't even muffle his voice which Lone found to be a bit creepy.

"I am the leader of those who were hired to kill you. I wished to tell you that we will be cancelling the contract from our end as I do not desire for my organisation to suffer a loss greater than that of the loss incurred for breaking said contract," the dwarf explained.

"That's vague but I'm good at piecing together context clues," Lone said. "No funny movements, by the way, or I'll kill you. I dunno how much momentum you can generate like that, if any, but say a dagger comes flying out of your mouth, soon it'll be spilling blood too. Anyway, so, you're the leader of the assassins Sheelda hired to get her unjust revenge for her nephew's untimely demise then? I was wondering when you guys would show up."

"My agents have been watching you for weeks. I know not of how aware you are of how assassin organisations work in general, let alone in the Farwinds, but with you being a foreign hero, I doubt your knowledge is good enough. Any organisation that immediately acts upon a contract would be lucky to survive more than a month or two, likely less down here given our constant struggle to maintain krieg and urd control. In a world filled with godly beings, demigods, Divines, and unique skill holders, patience is a contract killer's best friend no matter the circumstances," the dwarf claimed.

"How do you know I'm a hero?" Lone had no intention to hide this detail. After all, the dwarf in front of him was either leaving in a body bag or with some of Lone's homebrew True Contract Magic binding his soul to secrecy.

"The writing is on the wall. The armour you don now is proof enough. I know of many skills that cover the host in bones as a form of protection, but one that not only self-heals but also gets stronger when broken and when ranking up? Well, what could that be but unique?" the man asked rhetorically.

'I was worried the guild had leaked that tidbit, but it really is obvious if you know enough about skills. That's a relief.' Lone nodded. "That's fair. So, what did you learn in the weeks you and your people have been tracking me that led you to decide to parlay with me instead taking a stab at the issue? That issue being me."

The dwarf actually chuckled at that. "Many, many, many small details have led to this decision, but to summarise it, you, a D-ranker at the time, successfully injured an X-ranker who is known for not only his speed but also for his absurd defensive capabilities."

The man continued, "That combined with your ability to endure two full-power blows from Hilda the Hammersworn has led my organisation to believe that even if we could kill you, we would suffer irreplaceable losses in doing so. No amount of coin can buy loyal, motivated, skilled, and most importantly, valued men and women."

"No 'we always complete the contracts we accept' bullshit?" Lone asked as he raised an eyebrow.

Just barely and with the help of Enhanced Vision, he got a very vague sense that the man looked confused underneath his face wrappings.

"As a professional in the field, I must warn you against ever dealing with amateurs that would so arrogantly make statements like that. They are either liars or doomed to die upon a very powerful hill one day to uphold such a ludicrous reputation," the assassin advised.

Lone frowned. "I dunno. I have a flawless quest rating at The Adventurer's Guild, but I see your point. So, what now? I have some more questions for you, but what happens after this? Assuming I let you go and don't just kill you."

"I would hope you wouldn't be so barbaric given my shown courtesy here, but I will confess, this is just a clone of mine. Kill it if you must, I and my people will not hold it against you but you will lose a benefit I wish to offer you as recompense for the stress of knowing an assassin or assassin group was likely targeting you since your trial's conclusion," the dwarf said. "You have my most sincere sympathies for that. We don't issue the contracts, we just accept or decline them, I'm sure you understand."

"Perfectly. Man's gonna put food on the table." Lone's face bore a look of interest. "However, benefits, you say? Please, go on. I'm all for free stuff."

"Certainly from another world with such a disposition," the dwarf noted. "You cannot see my aura as a C-ranker, though even were you a rank higher, it would still be invisible to you. Blending in is a part of my career's skillset, as is detecting when I can and am being seen. That is why I know the limits of your companion's skill. My point though is that this clone possesses the power of a higher SS-ranker. My true body is that of a middle X-ranker. I and my organisation have an immense amount of sway in the underworld of the Farwinds. I'm sure you can see how we could easily compensate you with something that would essentially be a negligible expense to an organisation like ours."

'I was right! SS-ranker!' Lone heard Soph happily convey over their telepathic link. Although, there was a sliver of fear in her voice.

Lone kept silent, gesturing for the man to keep going.

"To offer you recompense over this matter, I will personally ensure no other groups of note will target you or your travelling companions for so long as I remain the leader of my organisation. I am even willing to go as far as to send you warnings should some of the lesser, far weaker, organisations foolishly choose to willingly throw themselves upon your blade," the dwarf finished.

Lone narrowed his eyes. "That's a very kind offer, one that is easy to say and even easier to abuse. What's weak to you could be too much for me, or easily handlable by me but enough to kill those I care about before I can slaughter them."

"Yes, that is entirely true. As such, I have come with a steamforged artefact that can facilitate a magical contract to enforce this promise to the full extent of its intent," the man said. "What would be the point of even revealing myself to your ally's peculiar scouting ability were I to not honour any promises I myself made?"

"Give me that artefact, sign a contract of my creation, then I'll be happy to let this clone of yours go, forget this ever happened, and perhaps most importantly, not work my hardest to kill your true body and wipe out your entire organisation for even considering killing me over a nonsense contract," Lone stated his terms.

A steamforged artefact was at stake. Like hell he was going to allow it to slip through his fingers. The more toys he had to tinker with, the better of a steamforger he could become in the future.

"... Your interest in the artefact goes beyond what it can do, doesn't it?" That was quite clearly a statement and not a question. "The Taker never took your Steamforging, did she?"

"Well, now you have to sign my contract. Mum was supposed to be the word on that little event. Gods are scary to the current me. There's no negotiating out of it now. Between you and me, I don't want to make the dwarven kingdoms an official enemy of mine, but more than that, I don't wanna piss off the Taker," Lone replied, ice in his voice.

"Again, you say your contract. Do you have physical contracts and the magic to activate them? I may not be a Stoner, but I can see you are without awakened organs," the assassin pointed out.

Lone grinned. He extended his hands and a bucket of blood appeared in one while some parchment and a quill appeared in the other. "My contract magic is rather... unique. Now, gonna help me work out a fair contract, or gonna force me to hunt you down? I'm fine with either but I would much prefer the contract."

"The artefact is common and easily replaceable. I am happy to part with it and to agree to secrecy while binding my promises in blood. Quite frankly, the information that the Takers may be compromised in their unbiased duty has made this conversation worthwhile on its own," the assassin nodded.

"Fantastic!" Lone exclaimed joyfully. "Now, small disclaimer, this contract is impossible to remove unless I'm the one doing it. It's a unique skill. So, if that was your hope, let me know now so I can off this clone and begin the hunt. Or begin the hiding until I'm ready to hunt."

"... More than one unique skill confirmed from the source," the dwarf muttered. "More than worthwhile. Let us proceed, however, I will not sign the contract unless it is entirely fair and without loopholes."

"Ah, don't worry about that," Lone dismissed as he started writing. "It's one of those unique skills with drawbacks. Super-powerful ones tend to have those. It has to be fair or the magic won't trigger. It also has tiers. The higher the contract tier, the longer the cooldown before I can make a contract at the same tier. I don't use it too often, to be honest. I have all the tiers available right now."

"I doubt it needs to be used too much for an adventurer as opposed to, say, a Djinn imitator," the assassin commented.

"That's a cool idea. So, w-" Lone paused his words. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at the dwarf down the road. "You have a skill or skills that are making me more loose-lipped and that makes me more inclined to be friendly to you."

The man didn't deny it. "Indeed. Passives, I am afraid. I am already suppressing several skills just so you can perceive I even exist, so I must apologise for keeping those unchecked."

Lone shrugged. "I have good mental defences. I bet most wouldn't have even realised. I'm just bummed they don't seem to be direct since I haven't earned them yet."

That put a dangerous silence into the dwarf for a long while. Long enough for Lone to finish up the contract.

"You will become a very dangerous man, given enough time to grow," the assassin finally remarked.

"And you're the most observant person I've ever met besides myself," Lone quipped. "Anywho, let's free up one of those hands, shall we? You'll also need to draw your blood to sign it if you're happy with the terms."

"That went well," Lone remarked. "Better than I had expected considering the type of emergency it was."

He and Soph were back in their temporary dwarven home. The both of them were sitting on their bed.

Lone had a triangular prism made of brass and cogs in his left hand and a black card in the other. "I mean, he actually gave me the steamforged device that can induce contract magic. Gave it to me, no strings attached. Even if it's common like he claimed, he could see my lust for it. I don't get why he didn't milk me. My position of power was theoretical. His was literal."

Soph nodded. "And he happily signed that contract that you made sure bound his entire soul, meaning true body and all clones, to its terms. Maybe he saw a future of us working with him in the future?"

Lone frowned as he stared at the black card. "Maybe."

He recalled the man's parting words.

"Now more than ever am I certain I made the correct decision. Your current abilities are frightening. I look forward to seeing where your potential brings you, both of you. Here, take this. You clearly only care about the laws when it suits you, and that right there is an open invitation to some rather illicit gatherings. I'll be sure to message you when the next one happens. You adore steamforged trinkets, yes? You'll be able to find many more of them there."

Lone shook his head, stored the 'open invitation', and then began playing with the steamforged artefact he now knew was an outlawed item in the dwarven kingdoms called a Secrecy Prism.

The scripture magic binding him was screaming at him the entire time since he wasn't allowed to interact with steamforged artefacts but given his resistance, it wasn't too hard to ignore the magical bindings and heal the damage they were doing.

"Not what I expected for my first meeting with an assassin, but it was interesting if nothing else," Lone remarked.

Soph yawned as she nodded. "Sophie and me will be sure to be on the lookout for anyone that matches his description of the weaker groups that might target us. Now, tell me about your meeting and then let's sleep. I'm tired."

Lone chuckled. "Sure."

Four days later, in Krieg Tunroh, the capital of the united dwarven kingdoms, within the Grand Chamber of Epitome Tunroh, a meeting of great importance was reaching its conclusion.

"So it is decided," Grand Chancellor Platinumborne announced. "With nine votes to two, seven units of Stone-sung Marchers will be sent to subjugate Archdragon Dulwalhazir of the Deep and will then seal the entrance to the Deepwinds it came from. High Chancellor Eternalflame, I expect you to have this arranged by the end of the week."

Nodding his head, the scar-covered dwarf replied, "Of course, Grand Chancellor."

"Very good," the old but ridiculously powerful dwarf stroked his beard in response. "That concludes today's council session. I will have word sent to the three kings of this decision. You are all dismissed until further notice."

Sheelda McStuderson gathered her things and said her farewells to her fellow high chancellors and to the grand chancellor before leaving the council chamber.

She was in a rush, after all. This sudden voting session had delayed her from receiving word back on the rather expensive assassination of the foreigner that had led her poor nephew to his death.

It had cost her an entire ruby-gold coin. An entire coin! Even for the high chancellor of commerce that would be a hefty sum, let alone for her, the high chancellor of infrastructure.

With some of her frustration being put on display, she shoved her things into her servant's arms before getting into her class-seven steamforged carriage wordlessly.

She mentally commanded the vehicle to drive her home the very instant her SSS-ranked servant had hopped atop it.

Sheelda had to admit, the stress was getting to her. 'If they don't have good news for me then things are going to get much, much, much more complicated.'

She hated her past self. It was such a foolish decision made out of familial love and youthful ignorance. A promise would have sufficed all those years ago, but no, the foolhardy Sheelda from centuries ago just had to employ the aid of a scripture-magic-wielding Stoner as a show of her loyalty.

'Calm down, Sheelda. You hired Stone Edge. There's no way they wouldn't be able to eliminate a single D-ranker, even if his racial skill is strong enough to injure an X-ranker,' she thought as she took a deep breath.

"Lady Chancellor," her powerful servant called, "We've arrived."

"I see," she replied coldly.

She wasn't a fan of the council-assigned protector all of the chancellors were required to have. The man was her servant only in name and that bothered her.

She dismounted her steamforged carriage and wore a smile as a small figure rushed towards her.

"Nana!" the tiny dwarf no older than four or five years called as she jumped into Sheelda's arms.

"Hello, pumpkin," Sheelda gleefully greeted her goddaughter. "Where are your parents, huh? Too busy that they lumped you onto little old me?"

The girl pouted while Sheelda carried her into her estate. "Da's in a stupid guild meeting. Ma's in the garden singing to her mushrooms. They're so icky."

"Come now, you may be young, pumpkin, but you're articulate enough to know not to use words like 'icky' when talking about your mother's hobbies," Sheelda chastised with little conviction in her tone.

She couldn't bear to be too harsh on the girl. There were no blood relations between her and the child nor with the girl's parents, but there may as well have been considering how she felt about the three of them.

Now, however, wasn't the time for reminiscing. "Go on now, pumpkin. Shoo, shoo! This stuffy old lady has work to do in her office."

"But Nana! You're an S-ranker! You're not old yet! Play with me?" Her goddaughter's eyes widened adorably. "Please?"

"After I'm done with my work, okay? I won't be long," Sheelda said.

"It's a promise!" the toddler beamed at her before sprinting off, likely to go bother one of the estate's many custom steamforged automatons.

The darned things were nigh useless in combat so were typically left as party tricks for the wealthy. Sheelda could hardly complain since she was one such wealthy person who used them for that very purpose.

With heavy steps and now having a sombre atmosphere surrounding her, she made her way to her office. Once inside she found it empty.

Not even believing for a fraction of a second that she was truly alone, she approached her desk and sat down.

"Well?" she asked the silent room.

Emerging from the shadows, a fully covered dwarven woman said, "We're cancelling the contract. Our leader had deemed it too dangerous and not worth your asking price. As agreed, here is the premature termination fee - what you paid us but doubled."

Sheelda stared blankly at the sack of coins that had been gently placed on her desk as if by a ghost. It no doubt contained 200 white-gold coins, the equivalent of two ruby-gold coins. However, she couldn't care any less about the absurd amount of money right now.

She slowly raised her eyes to stare at the assassin standing across from her seated position. "What did you just say? 'Too dangerous'? I was not aware I had been cursed but it seems my hearing does not serve me as it once did. I think I just heard an agent of the Stone's Edge claiming a D-ranker is too dangerous to risk an assassination attempt on."

The assassin nodded. "That is correct. Lone Immortus was deemed an inappropriate target when he was a D-ranker. His recent rise to C-rank cemented our leader's decision. This is final. Also, be warned that no other large or reputable organisation of our ilk will take this contract. That is all I was sent to say, and as I have ensured the delivery of the cancellation fee, I'll now take my leave."

"Now you wait just a minut-" Sheelda cut her scream off midway since it was pointless.

The agent of Stone's Edge had already disappeared.

A sinking feeling overcame the high chancellor's gut. At the same time, her mind and soul began to feel a creeping pain that had been kept at bay ever since she took out the contract on the foxkin's life.

"Fook!" she yelled, using the accent of the less civilised southern dwarves.

The scripture magic was flaring up.

Sheelda couldn't help but panic. What a fool she had been to agree to a scripture that bound her to protect her blood kin to the last, and in failing to do so, at least gain justice for any untimely deaths in the family.

She knew Ewan wasn't killed by this Lone Immortus whelp. Neither directly nor indirectly, but the scripture didn't care about that. The particular clauses and subclauses binding her had identified him as the cause of her nephew's passing.

He had to die or her soul and mind would be crushed to dust. Now that apparently the best assassin's guild had issued an embargo on her to arrange a bounty for the foxkin's head, what was she to do?

Just lie down and die? No. She would not be undone by a single foolish decision she had made in her youth.

She'd avenged family members before. This would be no different. 'If I have to do it myself, I'll fuckin' do it myself.'

She was a high chancellor, was she not? Well, even if it cost her her status, her caste, her friends and her loved ones, she would fulfil this scripture's will and have it finally leave her soul.

Ewan's death was a tragedy, a mess, and a massive cause of stress. However, it was also an opportunity to rid herself of this persistent demon that had plagued her for centuries. And rid herself of it she would.

'I don't have to get involved myself just yet though. I hate to have to do it, but it's the most certain method. To think it would be me to use that favour though...' Sheelda shivered.

She wasn't going to like what she had to do one bit but do it she must if the death of Lone Immortus was to be guaranteed, thus granting her freedom from her former self.

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