Chapter 160
Chapter 160
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 160
Chapter Title: Chapter 4. The Land of Entertainment and Culture, Urun.
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"Why?"
He had been half-listening to his comrade's affectionate words when the man suddenly stopped. Turning back, he stared at him quizzically. But his comrade said nothing, merely breaking into a cold sweat as he gazed down the alleyway.
"What the hell could be there to make you zone out like that? A naked woman or...?"
"......"
Neither of them could continue. More precisely, neither could move. A sense of dread emanated from the figure lurking in the shadows. And when that figure, its red eyes glowing, stepped into the light, the terror doubled. The wooden mask, symbolizing something unknowable, was utterly menacing.
"W-What is that?"
Backing away from the approaching mystery man, they reflexively leveled the spears slung over their shoulders.
Had they gotten spooked over nothing? The eye sockets of the wooden mask leaked a misty glow, making it profoundly eerie.
"You're in luck."
"What?"
The voice was young. Unmistakably male. But in the next instant, the masked man's body swayed—or so it seemed—before he closed the distance in a flash. They watched as the edge of his hand struck their comrade's nape. They had been aiming their spear right at him, yet somehow they lost sight of him entirely. Their comrade crumpled forward, unconscious. As they took in the sight, a fist slammed into their own gut.
"Ghak!"
The abs they prided themselves on caved helplessly under the blow, the impact churning their insides. The guard let out an undignified groan, pain overwhelming him as his vision blurred.
"Hope your proposal goes well."
Damn it, I'm single. He knew the man was talking to his comrade, but he still wanted to voice the complaint. His consciousness faded first, though, leaving him speechless. The two fallen guards were dragged into the alley by a young man in a black coat.
They were found soon enough. When the pair failed to return after their patrol shift, another guard went looking and discovered them slumped in the alley.
The real problem was that several others searching for them had been attacked and injured by some unknown assailant. No deaths, fortunately, but the fact that guards had been targeted was serious.
Word spread immediately to the estates housing elf slaves, and the waiting mages sprang into action. Among them were Neyubae and the mage soldier unit from House Hissen, who worked with the guards to catch thieves. Mages banded together with guards and private soldiers, scouring dark alleys and street corners under cover of night for the thief.
"We found him!"
The shout rang out through the quiet night. From the pitch-black alley where the voice originated, a blue flash erupted.
Bzzzt!
Electricity surged from the mage's hand, racing across the ground like a tidal wave toward the man in the suspicious wooden mask.
He leaped lightly into the air, evading the lightning spell, then vanished from the spot.
"H-He disappeared!"
"Stay alert around us!"
"Don't do anything stupid—maintain formation! Protecting me comes first!"
The lead mage barked orders while retreating to the center of the soldiers. He then launched several orbs of light in all directions.
Fwoosh!
Darkness fled the alley as if in terror, the space brightening like midday.
"Gasp!"
The front-line soldiers, spears about two meters long at the ready, sucked in their breaths. There, right in front of them, stood the black-coated, wooden-masked figure—having appeared out of nowhere. They thrust reflexively, but he twisted his body aside with uncanny agility, slipping inside their guard to uppercut a spearman's jaw with his palm. The soldier floated upward, plummeting slowly in the eyes of his nearby comrades.
That was the beginning. Before the man even hit the ground, another soldier nearby came under attack. The assailant's movements outpaced their reactions by far. Thuds and thwacks echoed as soldiers dropped. They couldn't withstand a single blow, losing consciousness or combat effectiveness. It took less than thirty seconds to neutralize all eight.
As the man paused, seemingly catching his breath, the mage swiftly unleashed his spell.
"That'll sting!"
Bzzzt!
The mage stomped the ground with his right foot. Lightning shot from his toe, forming a circle around the man before spearing outward in bindings like skewers.
"How's that? My third-tier binding spell!"
The magic would paralyze the target until the mage's mana ran dry.
"Hmm. Well..."
"Huh?"
He shouldn't have been able to move.
The mage stared in panic. The binding had activated perfectly. By all his knowledge, it should have immobilized the man. That was normal. Yet here he was, flexing his fingers as if nothing had happened.
"It stings."
The mocking tone horrified the mage.
Crazy! He wanted to shout it, but the man's hand shot forward, forcing his mouth shut. The fist unclenched right before his face, grabbing his head. Something caught his heel, and he flipped backward, slamming his skull into the ground and blacking out.
As the mage lost consciousness, the glowing orbs overhead fizzled out. Footsteps approached from afar. Rather than fleeing into the alley, Judah scaled the wall of the adjacent estate. Nearly two meters high, but no challenge for him. He dashed silently along the wall's ledge toward the Seronic estate.
'They said underground, right?'
Before heading out, he'd met with Roxin and gotten the details. Count Seronic normally granted his elves freedom of movement within the estate, but with the elf thefts, he was gathering them underground at night. Roxin had somehow gotten that intel and even joked about prioritizing customer satisfaction.
Tap!
He sprinted along a narrow wall section without detection wards. Deactivating his Demon Eye, aided by the night's cover and faint moonlight, he moved undetected.
'If I'd learned Concealment, this would've been easier?'
As a player who could learn anything, Judah had no talent limits. With Tia's help, he could've picked up at least C-rank Concealment, if not B.
He'd thought becoming the Shadow Sword's owner would unlock the rest of the Shadow Magic Swordsman's skills, rendering it unnecessary. That was a miscalculation.
'Here!'
Luck ran out there. As he vaulted from one wall to another and reactivated his Demon Eye, Judah locked eyes with a guard inside the estate. The man flinched at the masked figure with glowing red eyes.
"Thief...!"
Judah had avoided needless kills on the way here, but from now on, he'd have to fight or get caught. Saving strangers meant killing others he didn't know—a blatant contradiction.
In a programmed game, he'd have slain without thought or guilt. But here, they were living people, not mere NPCs. The guard earlier dreamed of proposing to his beloved—no denying their humanity.
Whoosh!
Yet after killing so many already, pretending to spare lives now and just knock them out was absurd. With guilt faded to a whisper, Judah summoned Altemia to his left hand and hurled it at the guard inhaling to shout. From the wall, the dagger flew at the man below in an instant.
"Gurk!"
Judah caught a glimpse of him toppling with a choked cry, then leaped into the estate. A thud echoed, and people swarmed from another direction, spotting him.
"Thief! He's here!"
"Call the guards! Block him from entering the estate!"
As Judah dashed toward a window, he spotted mana flows. A protective barrier was rising around the estate.
"Hmph!"
Sneering at the sight, Judah drew the bastard sword from his <Bag>—gifted by Lord Pierchen of Cernia Castle. Inferior to the fragments in grandeur and performance for a mere thief's tool, but still a famed blade.
Vmmm!
Black mana cloaked the blade, vibrations humming.
—Shadow Sword Arts 2nd Form, Slash
Recalling the skill name, he swung diagonally upward from below. Mana converged ahead to block his path, but the barrier shattered before completion.
The forceful wind from the swing shattered a massive innocent window behind it. The crisp shatter and tinkling glass were poetic.
"He's inside the estate!"
Seronic soldiers, armed and charging, watched him breach in an instant. Some turned back the way they'd come; the rest held position to seal exits. Landing on the windowsill, Judah sensed incoming spells and turned.
'Ice... and wind magic.'
About ten ice spears hurtled from ahead, invisible wind blades slicing from behind. Basic forms with solid lethality. But with his high magic resistance and fragment-enhanced defenses, basics barely fazed him.
To bait overconfidence, Judah pressed against the wall, batting some aside with his bastard sword and ignoring the rest.
Just before ice and wind clashed, perhaps for overkill, they brazenly unleashed fire magic indoors. Judah's eyes widened at flames erupting from the floor—then a massive boom as they exploded.
Boom!
Smoke and dust clouded vision.
"Got him!"
Judah burst from the haze at the foolhardy words—top thing not to say in battle—and kindly replied,
"As if."
He kicked off, closing on the mage amid soldiers in a blink, swinging his bastard sword fiercely. The mage activated a defense preemptively, but Judah was faster.
No clang, but it felt that smooth—the mage's head parted from robe and neck, soaring into the air.