Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

Kayvaan nodded. Rhianna's voice was flat. "You spent that much just to have Youlun kill me?"

"That's right."

"And let me get this straight—you had me bring you here, me introduce you to the best fixer in the city, me help you hire Youlun—"

"Well put." 

Rhianna inhaled deeply, clenched her fists… then promptly collapsed backward with a heavy thud. The room was silent. Fatty scratched his head. "Huh." He prodded her lightly with his boot. No response. He let out a small chuckle. "Well, that's a new one."

Kayvaan just poured himself another drink. 

When Rhianna's eyes fluttered open, she wasn't in the tavern anymore. Above her stretched a vast night sky, a sea of stars gleaming against the dark void. The air was crisp. A gentle breeze rustled the tall grass around her, cool against her skin. Then, she caught the scent of something incredible. Her stomach growled. She sat up, glancing toward the source.

A small wild boar was roasting over an open fire, its skin crisping to a golden brown. Beside it, Kayvaan was turning the spit with an easy rhythm, occasionally sprinkling something onto the meat. Rhianna squinted, trying to identify what he was using. The white granules looked expensive. Snow salt? The scent was unbearable. She inhaled deeply, her mouth already watering. She swallowed. "Midnight snack?"

Kayvaan glanced at her, then shook his head. "Not quite." He turned the pit again. "It's past four in the morning. Consider it an early breakfast."

Rhianna shot up, darting over to the bonfire before squatting down, her eyes locked onto the golden-skinned wild boar roasting over the flames. The sight was mesmerizing, but a nagging thought pulled at her mind. "Why did I pass out?" she asked casually, though her tone carried an edge.

Kayvaan didn't even look up as he turned the spit. "You didn't pass out. You fainted."

Rhianna blinked. "Fainted?"

Kayvaan nodded. She frowned, sifting through her memories, and then—it hit her. Her face went pale. Slowly, she turned to Kayvaan, horror creeping into her eyes. "You… you really did it, didn't you?"

Kayvaan took a slow sip of wine. "You remember, then?"

Rhianna's lips trembled before she gave a stiff nod. "Well," Kayvaan said, adjusting the boar, "it wasn't a dream. It's real. The contract is signed. The Executioner will receive word in a few days. He'll spend a month—maybe three—tracking you down. And then he'll kill you. Simple as that. You understand?"

Rhianna swallowed. "I… I think so."

Kayvaan smirked. "Go on, then. Tell me what you've figured out."

Rhianna exhaled sharply, composing herself. "You and your brother want to challenge powerful opponents, but Youlun—the best assassin in the world—never lets himself be found. So instead of chasing after him, you paid him to come to you."

Kayvaan grinned. "Clever girl." 

Rhianna didn't look pleased. If anything, her anger was bubbling just beneath the surface. She clenched her fists, barely holding back the urge to scream. "Then why not have him come after you? Or your brother? Wouldn't that be more efficient? I haven't done anything to you! Why am I the target?"

Kayvaan sighed, shaking his head. "If my brother was the target, the fight might not even happen. The assassin might take one look at him and decide it's not worth it." His tone carried a hint of amusement, but also something else—regret. "He used to be a noble, you know. Handsome, popular, admired. Now? Now he's a towering slab of muscle. Too big. Too unnatural. Most people lose their will to fight the moment they see him."

Rhianna nodded begrudgingly. "Yeah, I've never seen anyone built like that. He doesn't even look human."

Then, realization struck her. She looked up, fury sparking in her eyes. "If your brother isn't a good target—why not you?!"

Kayvaan chuckled. "Because if I were the target, the assassin would be the one I'd feel sorry for."

Something inside Rhianna snapped. With a strangled yell, she lunged at Kayvaan, hands outstretched like claws. She didn't even reach for her weapons—her rage was too immediate, too raw. She aimed to tear into him, to sink her teeth into his arrogant, maddening face.

Kayvaan barely moved. He simply extended one hand, caught her wrist mid-swing, and turned. Rhianna's world flipped. She lost control of her body in an instant—her feet lifted off the ground, her momentum betraying her, and before she could even process what was happening, she crashed onto her back with a solid thud. Pain jolted up her spine. For a moment, all she could do was blink at the night sky, trying to figure out how she'd ended up there. "…What just happened?" she finally asked.

Kayvaan, still calmly tending to the fire, didn't even look up. "You attacked me. I knocked you down."

"But how? That was like—like some kind of witchcraft."

Kayvaan snorted. "Not magic. Just technique. A form of unarmed combat designed to disrupt an opponent's center of gravity. Makes it easy to throw them off balance." 

Rhianna scowled. "You're saying I could learn it?"

"In ten years, maybe." Kayvaan turned the spit again. "But that doesn't help you right now."

Rhianna groaned, rubbing her head. Then, hesitantly, she asked, "So… am I dead?"

Kayvaan arched a brow. "Would I really hand over that much wealth to an assassin just because I was bored?" He shook his head. "No. I'm not a fool. If anything, I'll make sure you survive, just to make sure the 'best' killer never gets paid."

Rhianna sat up, eyes narrowing. "…You're going to protect me?"

"No." Kayvaan sliced a thick piece of meat from the boar's leg and bit into it. "You'll protect yourself."

Rhianna gawked at him. Kayvaan continued, voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "I'll train you. Teach you how to fight. With time, you might even be able to beat Youlun."

Rhianna let out a bitter laugh. "Fatty's the best pimp in the city. He'd sell out his own mother for a payday. He's already sending word to Youlun. If I'm lucky, Youlun's tied up in another contract or stationed far away. That gives me maybe three or four months. If I'm not lucky? He could find me in a month." She took a shaky breath. "Even if I run, that only buys me time. Six months, at best."

Kayvaan shrugged. Rhianna clenched her fists. "And you're telling me that in six months, you're going to turn me—a thief from the lower city—into someone capable of killing Youlun? The Executioner? The legendary assassin? The one who never fails?" Her voice cracked. "Are you insane?"

Kayvaan regarded her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he asked, "Are you afraid of him?"

Rhianna stiffened. "Yes," she admitted. "And I hate him."

Kayvaan gestured to the fire. "Want to eat? It's ready." He cut another slice of roasted meat, plating it before handing it to her.

Rhianna eyed the food warily. Then, with a sigh, she unsheathed the knife at her belt and dug in. he moment she took her first bite, her entire body tensed. Her eyes widened. 'Holy Throne…' She hadn't realized how hungry she was until now. The meat was tender, bursting with flavor. She could taste the rich seasoning, the slight crisp of the charred skin, the perfect balance of fat and salt. She barely managed to swallow before blurting out, "Emperor's mercy, this is the best thing I've ever eaten."