The Seamstress Doesn’t Only Work With Cloth

Underground hidden chamber.

A heavy silence hung in the air, thick with the coppery stench of blood.

"......"

Ellen trembled all over, one hand clamped over her mouth.

Her face had gone ashen, and her eyes wouldn’t stop staring at the severed head.

But I was calm.

Only my heart was hammering like a mad thing.

I remembered growing up in the slums.

In that place, a human life weighed less than a single coin.

Days when nobles had beaten me for no reason, days when I’d had to bow my head even after being framed for something I didn’t do.

That kind of life had hardened me from the inside out.

"Young lady, please don’t look. I’ll take care of this."

I grabbed a scrap of cloth from the worktable and draped it over the man’s head.

"This... what in the world..."

Ellen finally managed to speak.

"He was an uninvited guest."

I retraced the events in my mind.

"Here’s what happened..."

* * *

Thirty minutes earlier, on the first floor of the annex quarters.

I had been sitting at the desk, making a set of notes for Ellen on second-tier magical theory.

Rustle.

The locked window of the annex opened without a sound.

"!"

I turned in shock and saw a man in a black mask perched on the windowsill.

"You’re Hans, the seamstress?"

A sly laugh leaked out from behind the mask.

"I’m here on behalf of the Bergen family’s young master. Come quietly. If you don’t, you’ll be dragged off with your feet cut to ribbons."

He dropped lightly from the window.

"They said they’d pay ten times your salary for you. You’re not stupid enough to refuse that, are you?"

The Bergen family’s young master?

Felix!

What was that pathetic bastard up to now?

Ten times my salary?

Ridiculous.

He’s been trying to chew me up and spit me out for ages.

My mind went cold and still.

"And if I refuse?"

"I’m fine with taking your corpse. Whether you walk out alive or get dragged out as a lump of meat—that’s your choice."

The man drew a dagger.

The blade gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

In that instant, I knew it.

He really intends to kill me if I refuse.

But if I went with him?

Would Felix really keep me alive after sending someone like this?

This room is too narrow. There’s nowhere to run.

There was no way to face him head-on with nothing but first-tier utility magic.

If I fought, I’d die for sure.

There was only one way out.

Lure him into a trap.

I hunched my shoulders and stumbled backward, putting on a frightened act.

I had to look pathetic.

I had to make him see me as a bug, let his guard down.

"Wait! I’ll go with you. Please, don’t hurt me."

"Hmm? So you do know enough to value your life. Good. The clever survive longer."

"Before that, I need to pack a few things. Needles and thread... sewing tools, that sort of thing. Without them, I can’t do what the young master wants."

With trembling hands, I kicked aside the rug behind the desk.

Then I pressed down on the knot in the floor.

Rumble.

A secret passage opened.

"Down there... there’s a secret storeroom with those tools, and all my savings. If you let me get them, I’ll go quietly."

"A secret passage in the corner? Interesting."

The man’s eyes flashed with interest.

I ran down the stairs into the basement like a man trying to escape.

"Hah... run if you want. You’re already in my palm."

His mocking laugh followed me down, the laugh of a predator enjoying the hunt.

"Wait... this is a little suspicious. Could this be one of the Valderc family’s hidden places?"

The man shot me a sharp look.

"Tell me. How do you know this place? Who told you?"

"Do I really... have to say?"

"Doesn’t matter. You’ll spill everything once we get there anyway."

He twirled the dagger between his fingers as he slowly closed the distance.

"Where are your tools?"

"By the worktable, over there..."

"Try anything clever and I’ll know it. I’ll gouge your eyes out."

My heart was about to burst.

Sweat ran down my back in cold streams.

Still, I forced my expression to remain desperate and frightened.

Until the moment he stepped over the radius of the magic circle.

"Stop dawdling and bring out everything you need. My patience is running thin."

At last, he stepped squarely into the center of the circle laid out with five Magic Stones.

And then—

"A seamstress doesn’t only work with cloth."

The cowardly fear drained from my face like water down a gutter.

"Sometimes... I handle lives that cling on too stubbornly."

"What nonsense are you—"

The instant confusion knit his brow, I poured my will into the mana circuit flowing across the floor.

Fear of killing someone?

Guilt?

Those were luxuries.

If I died, my future would vanish too.

Every golden sovereignty I’d scraped together would turn to dust.

Flash—!

All five low-grade Magic Stones burst at once with blue light.

"...?"

Before the man could even look down, something shot up like black spikes and punched through both of his ankles.

Thud! Thud-thud!

Fresh blood sprayed everywhere in bright red arcs.

The man stared at me in panic.

"Wh-what is this?"

What else?

Dark needles launched with the power of the low-grade Magic Stones.

The needles rose from the ground, pierced through his feet, and drove themselves back into the floor.

Transparent threads attached to the needles pinned his feet down as if sewing them to the ground.

"Aaaagh! Gaaah!"

He screamed and twisted his body.

But the needles driven through his flesh wouldn’t come free.

Worse, the more he struggled, the tighter the threads from the floor cinched around his feet.

Now.

When the chance comes, end it.

Dozens of strands of transparent thread hidden in the ceiling.

Whoooosh—

They poured down like snakes striking their prey, wrapping around the man’s limbs.

Thwip.

Then one of the cords looped around his neck, exposed and defenseless.

"P-please... spare me... ngh!"

The man pleaded, but I pulled on the transparent thread without hesitation.

The cord snapped taut.

There was a brief resistance as skin split along the line of the thread.

Then it became absurdly smooth.

Szzak!

Flesh and bone came apart together.

A dull, wet sound I had never heard in my life.

Splatter.

Blood erupted like a fountain.

The body toppled forward.

That was the end of it.

* * *

"......That’s what happened."

I finished speaking calmly.

"To survive... and to protect the secrecy of this place."

Ellen stared at me in a daze.

"Felix... sent him?"

"He said he’d kill me if I didn’t go with him."

"No. This was definitely Sophia’s doing."

"You mean Lady Sophia? But the assassin named Young Master Felix."

"Felix doesn’t have the nerve for that. Sophia was crushed by me at the academy today. She must have been seething with rage, and she probably pushed Felix into it."

Cold fury flickered in her eyes.

"In the end, you nearly died because of me. I’m truly sorry."

"Not at all, young lady. Thanks to this, I learned something too."

I glanced at the corpse on the floor.

Felix Bergen!

Whether Sophia pushed him or not... the fact that he was involved is beyond question.

He had treated me like a toy and sent an assassin after me. He would pay dearly for that arrogance.

Swish. Swish.

Then Ellen took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped the blood from my cheek.

"Hans, nobody can ever learn about this."

This was a Valderc family secret place that could never, ever be exposed.

A man had died here.

"Let’s get rid of the body first."

"I’ll handle that. Please go back and rest, young lady."

"No."

She shook her head firmly.

"This is our family’s matter. Why do you think Sophia tried to kill you? It was because of me. You got blood on your hands to protect me."

She toyed with the ring on her left hand.

"If we burn the body here or bury it, the smell might linger, or someone could find traces. Putting him in the subspace and taking him outside is the safest way."

Steeling her trembling hand, she reached toward the corpse.

Shhh.

In an instant, the body seemed to dissolve into the subspace connected to her ring and vanished.

The horrific traces of the slaughter were erased without a trace.

"An unusually large subspace. To fit a corpse inside too."

"...It was a gift from my father a while ago. Anyway, don’t worry about the body. I’ll dispose of it properly. But the bloodstains..."

"I’ll take care of them."

When Ellen reached for the blood on the floor with her handkerchief, I stopped her.

No matter how much of a fearless woman she acted like, she was still a noble young lady.

Her hands were trembling violently, unaccustomed to the smell of blood.

"We need to erase every trace."

"Don’t worry about that."

It was my first murder, but erasing stains was something I had done hundreds of times before.

Only this time, the stain wasn’t dirt on fabric, but human blood.

Flash—!

The instant the particles of white mana spilled from my fingertips and spread across the floor, the eerie red pool scattered like steam.

Hiss.

The tiny traces of blood trapped in the gaps of the floorboards.

The faint iron stench lingering in the air.

They vanished completely.

"Amazing... the traces are gone like it was all a lie. So clean."

Ellen’s eyes went wide.

"You should go back and rest now, young lady."

"I’m fine. More than that, I’m worried Sophia might send another assassin after you."

"No. If anything, she’ll keep still."

"Keep still? How can you be so sure?"

"Because I’m still alive, and the assassin has vanished without a trace. Could she really make a move recklessly when she doesn’t even know why she failed?"

Ellen’s expression brightened.

"Right. From Sophia’s point of view, this would be terrifying. If she thinks the assassin was captured by our family..."

"Exactly. If this becomes public, the Bergen family won’t be able to avoid criticism. They won’t dare act rashly."

"They might be trembling right now."

"So please, young lady, just act as you normally would. Boldly. That’ll make Sophia trip over her own feet."

Silence was the most frightening weapon of all.

Sophia would be forced to fight the terror of her own imagination.

Fear that would dry the blood in her veins.

Light returned to Ellen’s eyes.

"I have something to tell you, Hans."

A strange smile touched her lips.

"I told Father just now and secured ten medium-grade Magic ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Stones. I’ll bring them to you tomorrow."

"Medium-grade Magic Stones?"

"If you could produce this much power with low-grade ones, then with medium-grade stones you should be able to make something even more incredible, right?"

"Well, yes, of course, but... such valuable things..."

"I’m giving them to you because I want to. So you won’t leave me and will stay with me for a long time."

Ellen’s eyes glimmered oddly.

"Get stronger, Hans. For me. And for yourself."

With those words, she disappeared up the stairs of the secret passage.

Swish, thud.

The wall closed, and I was alone again.

I collapsed into the chair.

Only when the tension finally left my body did my hands begin to shake uncontrollably.

"Haa..."

The heavy, gruesome sensation of cutting a man’s throat was still vivid in my hands.

No matter how much I washed, the blood in my memory would never disappear.

But I had no regrets.

To keep myself from dying, I had willingly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chosen to become a monster.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, steadying my mind.

Then I mulled over what Ellen had left me with.

Ten medium-grade Magic Stones.

They were on an entirely different level from low-grade stones.

By simple comparison alone, they held more than ten times the mana, and their output efficiency was over twenty times higher.

With that much output, I should theoretically be able to construct a third-tier magic circle.

I closed my eyes and began sketching designs in my head.

Third-tier Lightning Spear.

Third-tier Fire Storm.

The powerful killing spells battle mages dreamed of.

But then I shook my head and gave a wry smile.

"No. It won’t work."

Even with medium-grade Magic Stones.

It would still be impossible to activate a third-tier formula with my feeble mana.

The mana circuit would overload and burn out before it could even start.

For now, the highest I can use safely is still first tier.

Even with Magic Stones, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that meant I couldn’t create wide-area explosions or spray flashy spells everywhere.

So there was only one answer.

If I can’t spread it wide... I’ll condense it into a single point.

Compression!

Like a seamstress’s needle.

Concentrate immense power into a point no bigger than a needle’s tip.

"If one piercing isn’t enough, then ten... and if ten aren’t enough, then a hundred..."

A new formula rose before my eyes.

A method no battle mage would ever bother to look at, but one that only I could use.

Using the overflowing output of the medium-grade Magic Stones, I would create hundreds of short, razor-sharp mana needles in midair.

The moment an intruder stepped inside, I’d pour them down like rain onto that narrow point.

The so-called repeating needle hail.

A merciless piercing spell that would turn an enemy’s body into a honeycomb!

No—into dust!

This is it!

I took up my quill and began drawing the new formula on a blank sheet of paper.

Line by line.

As the completed technique took shape, a chilling aura seemed to rise from it.

If I just change the formula...

My eyes gleamed with a sinister light.

I can pierce through anything.

Cloth, or a person.