The saying ‘The quill is mightier than the sword’ might inspire na?ve scribes, but a forty-one-year-old Apprentice Scribe with a damaged arm, a ruined eye, and half-scorched lungs should’ve known better.

  How pathetic. I’M FUCKING PATHETIC! Jack’s mind screamed.

  He gasped as searing pain radiated from his gut. He felt his own poisoned dagger being twisted and ripped free. His eyes trembled from the pain as he clenched his teeth so tight they creaked.

  Just a scratch would’ve been enough to kill the murdering basta…

  His pitiful thoughts were cut short as the blade plunged back into his gut. Jack convulsed, breath hitching in shallow, rapid gasps. He gritted his teeth to stifle the cries of agony that threatened to escape. White globs of thick spittle spat from his tight lips as the unbearable pain forced muffled grunts from his throat.

  I should’ve died in the fire.

  His killer, Viscount Greaves, was savouring every moment of his torment. After the Viscount disarmed him with almost supernatural precision, the old noble had severed the tendons and muscles in both arms. The counterattack had been so swift and surgical, Jack hadn’t even had time to register the movement before he was bleeding, crippled, and helpless.

  Now, Jack’s arms hung useless at his sides, incapable of forming a fist.

  Greaves’ thick left hand remained locked around Jack’s neck while his right hand wielded the assassin’s dagger. Jack’s back was crushed against the rough alley wall. His feet dangled above the cobbles, twitching, useless, and powerless.

  In his weakening state, all he could manage were feeble, futile kicks against the Viscount’s flabby stomach. There was no hope. The poison from his own blade would kill him within a quarter-hour.

  How is he so strong? He’s a bloody library administrator. Not a warrior. Not a… not this?

  For twenty years, Jack had dreamed of killing the bastard who had murdered his family. But as a weak Apprentice Scribe with no fighting skills, he might as well have been a pathetic mouse challenging a mighty tiger. His failed assassination attempt had yielded nothing noteworthy. Not even a ruffle in the Viscount’s wispy blond hair.

  He was a lamb biting at a lion. And now the lion had torn out his throat and was grinning at him with a bloody maw.

  The noble was a sixty-year-old man draped in a fine woollen suit and top hat, its silk band stained with arrogance. But none of that mattered now. Jack’s fate was sealed; he was awaiting the next available appointment with Thanatos, the God of Death.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Impressive weapon,” Viscount Greaves said as he examined the assassin’s dagger. The blade steamed, reeking of blood and shit. “How did a peasant get their filthy hands on a drow blade?”

  Still holding Jack aloft with one hand, Greaves wiped the blade clean on the sleeve of Jack’s cheap leather armour, slicing a fresh gash into his forearm. The dull glow from the aether lantern the Viscount had dropped during the attack made the weapon appear even deadlier; its rare runes glowing in the light.

  Jack winced at the fresh cut and vowed, I won’t… I won’t give him the satisfaction. Trying to block out the pain, his thoughts turned to the years wasted on scrounging for coin in backrooms and filthy taverns. His days spent inscribing spell scrolls under a haze of despair and depression. His evenings, a fog of cheap ale to drown out the cruel nightmares that burnt him most nights.

  All to save enough for the two things that might make justice possible. A drow-forged dagger, enchanted with powerful runes to pierce armour and pass through most magical protections. And a powerful poison, so deadly that it was banned in most kingdoms.

  Ten years of coin and twenty years of hate, all poured into a single point of enchanted steel dripping in vengeance. Jack had placed all his hopes in the assassin’s blade and poison; he had believed it would give him an easy time killing a fat, lazy noble. A noble whose role was administering the Ancient Texts Department of the Royal Library. The same noble who was currently wielding his dagger!

  Despite his cheap armour, he had convinced himself he’d over-prepared. He’d been mistaken; the drow blade had only drawn Jack’s blood, and with it, his life.

  Jack’s strength ebbed away as blood loss and poison took their toll. The world swam in and out of focus, his consciousness slipping away only to be dragged back by searing pain. All he longed for was to fade into oblivion and escape the humiliation and red-hot agony.

  Noticing Jack’s lapses into unconsciousness, the Viscount drove the dagger into his shoulder and twisted it with deliberate malice. “Try to stay alert. You have questions to answer before you die,” he commanded, his tone as cold as his smile was sadistic. “Clearly, you don’t have the assassin class. I’d be dead now if you were a true assassin.” Amused by the failure of this middle-aged pretender, he scoffed, “So, who sent you to your pointless death?” His frown conveyed genuine insult at being confronted by such a poor imitation of an assassin.

  Despite the question, the Viscount did not loosen the grip on Jack’s neck. Amid the haze of pain, Jack’s thoughts stumbled for any hope of killing Greaves. In desperation, he rifled through his scribe skills for anything that could help him.

  [Class Screen-Internal View]

  Class: Apprentice Scribe (49)

  Compatibility: 5%

  Novice Primary Skills

  - Copy Text (5)

  - Translate Text (5)

  - Draughtsmanship (6)

  - Bind Book (5)

  - Restoration (4)

  Novice Secondary Skills

  - Calligraphy (5)

  - Layout (4)

  - Emboss Text (4)

  - Cartography (4)

  - Cataloguing (5)

  - Wax Sealing (3)

  - Ink Preparation (3)

  - Parchment Preparation (3)

  - Watermarking (3)

  - Contracts (3)

  - Margin Notation (5)

  - Ink Weatherproofing (3)

  - Micro-Script (4)

  - Leather Working (3)

  - Illuminated Script (2)

  - Gold Leaf (2)

  Apprentice Primary Skills

  - Perfect Recall (5)

  - Create Cypher/Decipher (4)

  - Inscribe Spell (5)

  - Scribe’s Ear (3)

  - Glyph of Obfuscation (5)

  Apprentice Secondary Skills

  - Living Margins (2)

  - Lexomancy (3)

  - Seal of Silence (3)

  - Explosive Ink (2)

  - Echo Writing (2)

  - Dream Journaling (3)

  - Astral Notation (2)

  All useless, non-combat skills.

  Fuck! I’m so injured, my compatibility has dropped so low! Wait… [Inscribe Spell].

  Thanks for the chapter comments, tells me you are here.

  E.M. Dash who rarely ever uses em dashes. :)

  Blood Mage Assassin: A Regressor’s Tale of Ink and Vengeance is an edited/extended version of . This new version moves faster than the original, though is still slow burn with plenty of slice of life moments.

  Blood Mage Assassin.

  The Vengeful Scribe version. With this change we bring forward an important foreshadowed aspect of the story, (the new title pretty much covers the change) so Jack has more power early on.

  The Vengeful Scribe Arc 1 epilogue will be posted on Royal Road in March 2026 and was posted on Patreon in December 2025. The old version (122 chapters) will NOT be updated further, consider it an earlier draft of this work, but I haven’t deleted it since that would leave almost 800 followers with no endpoint!

  Blood Mage Assassin Arc 2 for those who wish to not read Arc 1 of Blood Mage Assassin. This will cover what’s changed between the two versions, though I won't be writing/sharing it for a while (will be May 2026 on Royal Road, earlier on Patreon) since it will include a lot of spoilers.

  You can read 50 chapters ahead of Blood Mage Assassin on Patreon right now.

  Future Plans For The Vengeful Scribe