Great, I thought to myself, a paladin. With a roll of my eyes, a weary sigh, and a shake of my head, I turned around completely and made my way back down to kick this self-righteous do-gooder’s ass.
Chapter Three
“Come, do battle with me, you vile creature of darkness!” bellowed the paladin, swinging his greatsword around flamboyantly. “I am a servant of the Holy Flame, a chaste devotee of—”
I snickered, flipping Grave Oath in my hand, switching my grip style to icepick.
“So you’re no good with women. Is that what you’re trying to say, golden boy?” I said, flashing him a savage grin. “Well, I get why that would make you upset and go around starting fights with strangers, but seriously, getting laid isn’t as hard as you think. Just drop that holier-than-thou attitude, maybe work on smiling a bit more, and, uh, the golden armor? Nothing says ‘I’m trying way too hard’ like golden armor, my man.”
Crimson fury flashed across his face. “Enough of your inane babble, unholy fiend. Prepare to die.”
Raising his greatsword high above his head, he charged at me, but I felt no fear. He was a pretentious buffoon, and he deserved to get his soul sucked into my dagger, if only for the way he spoke.
His golden armor may have looked ridiculous, but it was clearly well crafted, and arcane energy rippled from it in golden wisps. This would make things a little harder for me, because, as awesome a weapon as Grave Oath was, it wasn’t designed for piercing heavy plate armor. This didn’t mean that killing this celibate bastard would be impossible, though. It would just be a little more of a challenge than taking out one of Rollar’s bottom-feeding thugs. And I liked challenges, especially of the “how to kill a heavily armored paladin” sort.
As the servant of light stormed at me with his six-foot golden sword, I reached for one of my newly enchanted throwing stars. What better target to test Isu’s necrotic magic than a paladin?
With a leisurely flick of my hand, I sent a razor-sharp throwing star whizzing toward the only unarmored area on the paladin: his face. All the practice over the years meant I could hit a penny at 20 yards without bothering to stop and take aim.
The black star flew straight and fast before it slammed into the paladin’s left cheek, just below his eye. He screamed out in pain and stumbled, the momentum of his charge carrying him forward and almost making him fall flat on his face. The projectile had embedded itself in his skin, but only by a fraction of an inch. I noticed the glowing aura surrounding him and realized he must have had some kind of protection magic. Still, the necrotic throwing star had managed to do more damage than any regular weapon would when faced with such an aura. I watched with grim fascination as the paladin dropped his sword and clutched his face. He dropped to his knees, and, through the gap between his golden gauntlets, I saw black veins spreading across the pale skin of his face in all directions from the point where the star was embedded in his cheek.
It looked like the star had done far more than simply break his protectional barrier and give him a little jab.
I could have darted in at that moment and slit his throat, but I wanted to see the full effect of the necrotic enchantment.
The whole left side of the paladin’s face had turned dark gray now. The flesh, some of which was starting to peel and slough off his face, stank like a rotting corpse. It was clear that some very accelerated decomposition was going on.
“Damn, Isu, that is some dark magic,” I muttered.
I was starting to like her more and more.
Suddenly, a look of intense concentration came over what remained of the paladin’s face. He whispered a few words and yanked off his gauntlets. Then, his fingertips began to glow with a warm, white light. He pressed his glowing hands onto his cheeks, and the rapidly spreading dark gray rot was abruptly halted. After a couple of seconds, its effects were reversed as the gray skin returned to its former pale peach tone. The grimace on his face morphed into a smug grin as the stink of rot and death disappeared from the air.
“You’ll need far more potent evil than that,” he hissed, “if you wish to contend with a true servant of the Lord of Light, you filthy devil. But now,” he continued, slipping his gauntlets back on and picking up his sword, “you die.”
I remembered what Isu had said about the throwing stars and enemies with Fated Threads, and I figured this guy had to be one of those. No matter; I could handle him with Grave Oath. I’d have to find the chinks in his armor, though, and I might even break a sweat. A few months ago, before I’d found Grave Oath, I would have been pulverized by the bastard.
But now, I wielded the power of Death, and the paladin’s soul would be mine.
I twirled my dagger around in my hands once before bolting straight at him. He whipped his greatsword up into a high guard, expecting me to jump up and attack his vulnerable head with a downward stab. Instead, when I got within two yards of him, I half-lunged forward, feigning the leap. He drew his sword even further up, opening his lower half for an attack.
Instead of jumping, I dropped abruptly down, using the momentum of my sprint to slide under him through his wide-splayed legs. While skidding through, I slashed my dagger through a small slit in his armor at the back of his knee. Armor, however well-made, almost always had a vulnerable spot there. I knew this
