When you've hung around long enough in a place like Spirale, even the locals learn to adapt. Cecil's latest target is a man with anti-magic wards around his property, making his murder a little more time-consuming than average.
To escape detection, the assassin slips away through the woods behind the property on foot—he'll need to travel a certain distance before he can safely teleport undetected. And so—
To his credit, the fleet-footed Fourth of the Chorus doesn't make a single noise when he suddenly runs into another body in the undergrowth. But the obstruction does force him to think on his feet, and he ends up whipping out a concealed blade from his sleeve before pressing it—and the man—against the trunk of a nearby tree.
Up close, his maybe-assailant looks quite pretty. A little pale, perhaps—though Cecil himself isn't one to talk.
❛ Tiens, tiens. ❜ Well, well. Cecil smiles. ❛ Êtes-vous venu pour jouer avec moi? ❜
Did you come to play with me?