Treehouse, you say?
*cackles evilly*
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Gliding across multiple rooftops a second, illuminated solely by moonlight, Rampicula tilted his head a little to the left, allowing a dagger to sail by without making contact. At the same time, he violently twisted his body so that the javelin aimed at his torso also never hit its mark—all the while maintaining top speed.
Curses could constantly be heard from every direction as Rampicula’s many pursuers became frustrated at his agility. They threw an endless torrent of projectiles and shot a tsunami of spells his way, only to helplessly watch as The Devil in Human Skin effortlessly made his way toward the center of the city, virtually unopposed.
The assassin’s hunters only became more agitated once their target’s destination came into view—Junimasto’s Great Oak, which was said to have been watered with the ichor of a god.
The man and his pursuers continued their deadly game of tag for a few more tens of kilometers, dancing atop roofs, flat ground, and turbulent rivers until they reached the city’s Great Oak. It’s mighty trunk towered nearly to the clouds with roots that spanned the entire country and branches so large that a single one could house the entire royal family, with each of the family’s hundreds of members.
Upon arriving within a hundred meters of the ginormous tree’s base, Rampicula suddenly stopped and spun around, smirking at the city’s guards. He spread his arms as though in a challenge before releasing a mighty roar of mocking laughter.
“You fools, who worship the gods long lost, will miss this opportunity I present you with?!”
The man cackled in maniacal glee, ignoring the dozens of guards who stood outside of the hundred-meter mark away from the tree, standing not too far from him. Their expressions soured at his insults and their fists tightened in rage, but it was impotent. They could do nothing to the assassin who stood so close to their holy symbol.
“I thought as much.” Rampicula ended with, turning back to face the giant oak.
He casually walked up to Junimasto’s Great Oak, no longer caring for the many enemies in the vicinity. Then, he climbed. At speeds unimaginable to regular mortals and until the sun rose over the glorious tree, Rampicula climbed, dodging attempts on his life by the very plant itself. The entire way up, countless strips of bark longer than even the largest whale he’d ever seen peeled off of the trunk and swung at him, trying to sweep and/or crush the assassin. Whichever came first, he supposed.
Yet, the man’s ungodly agility didn’t solely apply to horizontal planes, and he avoided the oak’s attacks just as easily as he did those of the city guards. Not even when the tree attempted animating the bark he climbed on was his pace disturbed, as even the slightest of tremors in the wood beneath his fingers and toes was enough of a warning to allow him to flee the area.
A day later when Rampicula reached where the branches sprouted from the trunk, just below the crown, it was not long until he located the specific location he targeted.
“Let’s see… Ah, here it is!”
Rapping his knuckles on seemingly random spots of bark on an inconspicuous branch, Rampicula celebrated a bit once he found what he was looking for. With a grunt, the assassin punched the bark, causing a small explosion of dust and debris. Yet, where most people would assume was just more wood, a room sat hidden.
One of countless, actually. Rampicula had passed thousands of similar hidden rooms on his way up but had no reason to enter them. Entering the tree would only make his mission infinitely more difficult, as what sat within the oak was a veritable labyrinth of which he had almost no insight.
Stepping into the room whose window he just destroyed, Rampicula sharply sucked in a breath of air at the sight. Most of the room’s decorations were natural parts of the tree and its ecosystem, made up of a myriad of different lifeforms, all glowing with their own beauty as they lined the walls, ceiling and furniture. Crystal blue vines snaked their way through a patch of burning orange mushrooms that lit up the spot they grew in with fire, yet set nothing else ablaze. An itty-bitty pine grew in the center of the room, in the midst of its own tiny lake surrounded by verdant grass. Ethereal butterflies lazily flapped their wings, hovering in place like small, living chandeliers or darting between beautiful, sparkling flowers.
“Quite the décor for what amounts to a prison cell, if I do say so myself.” Rampicula admired, dusting bits of bark off his gear and unslinging a bag from his shoulder.
“That’s the first thing you say upon breaking into my home?” A voice sounded from one corner of the large, cavernous room.
“Why, yes. There’s nothing much to say in general.” The assassin smiled at the woman.
“You won’t even give me your name? How rude. I would have prepared tea if you’d introduced yourself.”
“Well, that won’t be the only ‘rude’ thing I’m going to do, so deal with it. And I can make my own tea.”
Rather than reply again, the woman in the rocking chair merely scoffed and returned her attention to one of the few hobbies that kept her sane—crocheting. Within her hands were a pair of long wooden needles that loudly clicked and clacked as she manipulated some kind of shiny yarn.
The woman almost seemed to forget about the intruder as her hands became blurs, skillfully constructing what appeared to be a sock in a matter of seconds. She only looked up once the sound of metal on metal resounded from the stranger as he pulled a long knife out of its sheathe hanging on his hip.
Rampicula threw the blade.
With what seemed like no resistance, the knife sunk hilt deep into the woman’s neck, pinning her to the wall she sat against. Her eyes went wide at the unexpected event and she attempted to speak, but only bloody gurgles sounded.
“Told ya so.” The assassin muttered as he made his way over to the helpless victim, before lifting her by her hair with one hand and yanking the blade out of her neck with the other. It slid out with a disgusting sputter, then immediately went back in, multiple times, cutting through her neck entirely.
Less than ten seconds transpired by the time Rampicula finished beheading the woman, at which point he stuffed the head into the leather satchel he’d brought up the tree with him.
“Mission accomplished. NOW I can have tea.”
Ignoring the headless corpse that spilled blood everywhere, Rampicula wandered around the cavern of a room until he found what resembled a kitchen and began opening cabinets. It took a while for him to find what he was searching for, but he eventually stumbled upon a few boxes full of fragrant leaves. After removing a few leaves for his drink, he stored the rest in the same bag he kept the head, figuring they’d be wasted if left in the woman’s room after he’d dealt with her.
“And maybe I should eat whatever desserts she had in here, too. It’ll still be a while longer until this room is searched, at least. Heaven knows this tree is too big to search through within a week; much less a day or two.”
Suddenly, as Rampicula began exploring more cabinets, something within the satchel shook.
“Already? Damn, that was fast. Guess I should get going.”
Leaving the rest of the woman’s kitchen unpilfered, the assassin returned to the hole in the wall he left behind during his entrance, then peaked into the satchel.
“How rude! You could have sedated me, at the very least. That hurt a lot.” The disembodied woman complained from within the leather bag.
“First of all, no, I couldn’t have. Secondly, I have to go, so, shut up for a while. I can’t tell ya the details of what’s going on until we get to our destination.”
Rampicula began closing the bag as though to say the conversation was over, but the bag shook a great deal, prompting the man to sigh and reopen it.
“What? Get on with it! We’re on a time crunch!”
Staring the assassin dead in the eye, the woman merely asked, “Where are you taking me?”
Surprised by the tone being overall curious rather than hateful, Rampicula relaxed slightly.
“All I can say is that you’re being rescued.”
