Hitman with a Badass System

General Tar was an orc assigned by the Skyhall to build the castle and pacify the locals in Itonys. Unlike a typical orc, Tar was a war-hungry death merchant who preferred to kill than ask questions. Single-handled Tar killed thousands of wood elves. Tazkin and Tar had a bit of history between them. After the Skyhall invaded the wood elves, Tazkin fought Tar to rescue his team and actually managed to achieve such an impossible task. Moreover, Tazkin gave a scar that Tar still hadn't forgotten. But unlike Tar, Tazkin didn't thirst for a rematch. Instead, Tazkin only wanted to steal the healing potions and get the hell out of this place.

"Follow my lead," said Vakoc.

"Vakoc, you know the way. Take the lead," said Tazkin. The wood elves climbed down the trees and headed toward the infirmary. They moved as nimble as the wind itself. One could barely hear their footsteps. The armored soldiers' heavy boots clunking sound masked Tazkin and his men's movements. Step by step, the wood elves moved closer to the encampments. Soon, Tazkin noticed a demon armed to the teeth patrolling between the two camps. Some of the soldiers were sleeping in each camp. This armored soldier turned around and stood between the camps for a few moments. He seemed exhausted after walking back and forth wearing the heavy armor. Outside Itonys, they had arch energy and were powerful enough to lift even boulders. Hence, wearing armor was no headache for them. Besides, they could achieve more protection with a spell instead of this armor.

The skyhall soldier sweated bullets inside the metal armor. Tazkin slowly took out the bow hanging on his back. He knocked an arrow and aimed for the gap between the soldier's helmet and shoulder. After taking a deep breath, Tazkin released the arrow.

"Grhh," The metal soldier groaned as Thilve grabbed the soldier before he hit the ground. If he fell down, the metal armor would make a sound loud enough to wake the soldiers sleeping inside the camps. While dragging the soldier back, Thilve unsheathed a crude dagger and plunged it near the arrow, and ended the soldier's life instantly. She then cautiously placed the body on the ground without making a noise.

"Let's go," Vakoc whispered as the group moved around the camps.

"Where are the potions?" asked Tazkin.

Vakoc pointed his finger at a wooden building across several camps and soldiers. Fortunately, Vakoc was able to sneak closer to the building using the tents as his cover. Since the Skyhall soldiers patrolled the area like clockwork, Tazkin, and his men were confident enough to sneak past them. But the only complication was General Tar and his wolves. These wolves were specially bred to track down wood elves and their tribes. Each wolf was ferocious enough to rip a wood elf apart in a few moments. Just thinking about the wolves, Tazkin's shoulder ached. He looked at the deep claw mark on his right shoulder for a moment before following Vakoc behind.

One by one, Tazkin and his men moved past the camps. For some reason, it didn't feel right to Tazkin. Not a single soldier spotted them, as things went pretty smoothly. But that was what worried Tazkin. Vakoc halted his steps behind a wooden building, taking advantage of the shade provided by the roof. The team stopped for a few moments to catch their breath.

"Somethings bothering you, my love," Thilve turned her gaze at Tazkin, The dark lines on his forehead betrayed how worried he was.

"Everything's going smooth. Too smooth, to be exact," said Tazkin. His words surprised Vakoc and the others. As far as they were concerned, if anything, Tazkin should feel grateful that everything was going in their favor. Instead, Tazkin looked worried to the core.

Tazkin sighed, looking at their confused faces.

"Not to jinx things but when was the last time everything went according to our plan? Those demons always pulled one over us whenever we thought we had them cornered," said Tazkin.

"I understand how you feel. But this is not the time for second thoughts. We are deep within the belly of the beast. If we don't get those potions, people are going to die," Thilve said in a low-pitched voice. She cared more for her people than anyone, including Tazkin. Unlike her, Tazkin wasn't born into her tribe. On the contrary, Tazkin was an orphan. Thilve's uncle found him in the forest and raised him as his own. They fell in love at a young age, and Tazkin had to climb the top of the mother tree to get Thilve's father's blessing to marry Thilve. Tazkin was one of the few who managed to complete such a task and live to tell tales about it.

"Hmm," Tazkin nodded, pushing all the doubts and uncertainties to the back of his mind. This was no time for second-guessing, as Thilve said. To their sake, Tazkin had to look confident even though he wasn't. He signaled Vakoc to lead the way with his eyes as the wood elf slowly walked around the building. Suddenly, a loud bell rang from the castle. Their bodies went rigid, thinking they were caught for a moment.

"Mid-day break. Come on, everyone. Take five," they heard someone calling the soldiers from the center of the camps. Luckily, the soldiers were moving to the center to get their bellies filled. As a result, the patrol routes turned empty and gave Tazkin and his men enough leeway to get into the infirmary, take the potions, and disappear into the forest without alerting Tar. atleast, that's what they planned. In a few minutes, almost every soldier in the area went to the center and formed a circle around a giant cauldron with boiling porridge in it.

Meanwhile, the wood elves hasten their steps. They crouched toward the infirmary as fast as they could. Finally, they came to a wooden building with a board with a leaf symbol hanging above the door. Tazkin slowly opened the door after looking back and forth. When the door slowly opened, they saw a couple of soldiers sleeping on white beds. These soldiers seemed pale, shivering and gritting their teeth as though they were in great pain.

While Tazkin's gaze was locked on the sick soldiers, Thilve and the others noticed the crate full of glistening green vials.

"There it is," Vakoc closed the door behind them and pointed at the crate.

"Let's take it and get the hell out of this place," another wood elf behind Thilve said.

When Thilve was about to take a step toward the crate, Tazkin stopped her by her wrist.

"If they have the magical healing potions, why do these soldiers look sick?" asked Tazkin. As much as the Thilve and the others wanted to take the healing potions and escape the place, Tazkin's words made them wonder and think deeply about what he had just said. Vakoc and the others creased their brows. They knew Tazkin was right. These magical healing potions could cure anything, yet these soldiers looked anything but healthy. On top of that, the healing potions were right on the table, and the crate contained enough potions for all the soldiers in the room. Yet, for some reason, the demons chose not to give the potions to their comrades.

"We can think about it when we get back to the tribe. Let's just take them and get the hell out of here," Vakoc rushed Tazkin. Seeing no other choice, Thilve quickly dashed to the crate and took it in her hand. On her way back, she wanted to kill the sick soldiers. But luckily for them, Thilve prioritized escaping the place over slitting their throats.

Tazkin turned around to leave the building. He threw one last gaze over his shoulder at the soldiers before opening the door. The moment he opened the door, Tazkin's body went rigid. His heart almost jumped out of his chest. To their shock, General Tar was waiting outside to welcome them with his five gray wolves. General Tar was a brutish, aggressive, ugly, and malevolent orc, contrasting with the wood elves. He had several piercings all over his body and wore a necklace made of his enemies' ears. He held a heavy sword as tall as an average human on his shoulder. When General Tar saw Tazkin and his team, he showed an ugly smile that really highlighted his blood-stained teeth and the tusks sticking out of his mouth.

The gray wolves bore their teeth with their blue eyes glimmering with ferocity. They were one signal away from ripping Tazkin and the others apart. Each wolf was five feet wide and tall as a wood elf's waist. Saliva trickled down their mouths as though Tazkin and his men were juicy pieces of meat.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" General Tar had a perfect brutish voice for his monstrous body. He slowly ran his hand through the deep scar on his left cheek. Tar almost went blind in one eye. If Tazkin swung the sword a few inches higher and Tar would have lost his left eye. Tar wore the scar as a symbol of shame. Until he could wash his face with Tazkin's blood, Tar had no plans to rest easy.

"General Tar," Tazkin stopped in front of his men, shielding them with his body. The soldiers behind Tar raised their swords and handheld crossbows at Tazkin. Tar's men were in the number hundreds, while Tazkin only had five men. No matter what strategy they used, there was no chance for them to win this battle.

"You gave me something to remember you by. It's only fair I return the favor. Don't you think so, men?" General Tar asked,

"Yes, General," Tar's men shouted in unison as Tar brought down the heavy sword to the ground from his shoulder,

"It seems like our friends are here to take the healing potions meant for our men," said Tar.

"We can't have you take what's ours unless," Tar's words trailed,

"Unless what?" Thilve snarled.

"Unless Tazkin bests me in a duel," Tar said, looking Tazkin in the eyes.

"But you always have the option to run away. In that case, my babies will be more than happy to give a chase,"

"You have three seconds to decide," Tar raised three fingers.

"One…"

"Two…"

"I accept," Tazkin stepped forward, having no other choices. Outrunning the wolves and the soldiers was nothing but suicide. At Least by fighting Tar, he could pull a surprise move on Tar that might let his wife escape the place.