One Strike, Three Birds (5)
The assassination leader glared at the man with ice-cold eyes, gripping his sword tightly.
'Damn it, this mad bastard...'
He tried to maintain his composure, but an involuntary groan escaped his lips.
"...Lost Hope. They're truly dangerous bastards."
Even the beggars, twisted into murderers by the black mage's tricks, had been no easy foes.
Enemies who charged without regard for their own lives were rare even for him, the leader himself.
Out of twenty assassins, five were already out of commission.
If those foes had kept their sanity intact...
The thought made his vision spin.
But the leader who had just stepped forward stirred that dizzying sensation even more.
His subordinates stood between them, buying time for observation.
"Gaaahhh!!!"
The man smiled pallidly as he slaughtered his own underlings.
If that were all, he might not have been much different from the ones they'd cut down so far.
However, though he seemed devoid of reason to distinguish friend from foe,
his movements felt thoroughly calculated.
A cruelty meant to instill terror and inflict maximum pain.
Some beggars regained their wits because of it—only to lose their lives moments later.
The assassination leader glanced at Zeke.
'You protected the young lady from things like that...?')
He couldn't imagine Zeke Clayman handling this alone.
'Even if he'd reported it, the higher-ups would have prioritized the grand scheme...'
Could Yustia's intelligence network have even believed in enemies completely absent from their records?
And Lost Hope—the black magic they wielded was bizarre.
This alien power was so grotesque that no one would believe it without seeing it firsthand, eroding the credibility of any report.
They'd probably conducted a cursory investigation and let them slip away again.
So, he'd come here to show Yustia directly.
'Who our true enemies are...'
If they'd overlooked them any longer, the karma rebounding would have been unimaginable.
It was a stroke of immense luck to confirm this enigmatic group's existence now.
"Zeke Clayman."
He called out, and Zeke turned his expressionless face.
"...Do you have any intel on him?"
"His movements are decent."
"...So you know nothing."
"Not bad at all."
"...Can you move now?"
"Ugh. My legs. Hit by. Magic. Seems."
The assassination leader furrowed his brow.
Something felt off, but there was no time to dwell on it.
The man was coming soon.
He'd already killed most of his subordinates.
Reducing the enemy's numbers without discrimination—and he was their leader, of all things.
Yet no one in the assassination unit could welcome it.
"Heh heh. You're all sacrifices."
His madness-filled gaze turned to the assassins.
The leader opened his mouth.
"One enemy. Assassination formation."
At his words, the survivors gripped their blades with tense faces.
*
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!!
Slash!!
One Lost Hope member versus fifteen hunters.
It looked just like hunters cornering a single beast.
But was that beast any ordinary animal?
Zeke watched the familiar fighting style with an intrigued expression.
He'd been so absorbed that he'd even forgotten to keep up his act when the leader spoke to him moments ago.
'Oho, you toothy bastard. Not bad. Swordsmanship is trash, though. Yeah, this is combat.'
A storm of murderous intent, thick with sticky malice, raged.
The unit members faltered, their bodies overwhelmed by the aura.
Tiss seized that instant, lunging without hesitation and swinging his dagger.
Stab! Stab! Stab!!
He poured everything into killing the enemy.
Wounds meant nothing to him.
He dodged only vital spots, offering up the rest, then grabbed an assassin's nape to use as a shield.
His entire body was dyed scarlet with gashes.
Yet the more wounds accumulated, the deeper the smile bloomed on his face.
'No matter how much past they layer on, this is all they've got. Well, no foundation to start with.'
But it was enough to overwhelm the assassination unit.
'Those movements are all calculated. Show cruelty to stoke fear, pressure psychologically to create openings. Can't win on skill alone, so ignore minor wounds and commit.'
He nodded.
It was Zeke's old style against the strong.
Of course, the problem was that it started calculated but eventually hardened into pure instinct.
"Heh heh heh..."
Tiss grinned grotesquely through his blood-soaked face.
A sight chilling enough to make any onlooker's heart shudder.
The assassination leader's eyes wavered.
A chill seeped through his veins.
"Damn it... Monster bastard..."
Ten assassins were already dead.
Five remained.
The man's skill wasn't exceptional.
But he threw himself forward as if discarding his life, dodging vitals with the slightest motion just before blades struck.
And the moment a sword pierced him, his dagger moved in tandem.
He showed no sign of pain even with steel in his flesh.
He pinned an assassin's foot with his own, then tore into the chest with repeated stabs.
Even those who reacted late died first.
As the leader lunged from behind after another sacrifice, aiming to cleave him,
Tiss drove the embedded blade deeper to counterattack.
Stab!
An unexpected strike.
The sword plunged into the leader's shoulder.
He staggered back, clutching the wound to staunch the blood.
'How... How can a human do that?'
The remaining four assassins wore faces pale with fear.
Not the expressions of those who'd harvested lives like diligent farmers.
A truly vicious fight.
Every thrust was a gamble, attacks that tossed life away like trash.
One slip meant instant death.
Yet he seized the tiniest openings and tore into them like a beast, succeeding in kills.
No matter how brutally trained as assassins, their own lives were precious.
The leader had never seen attacks this frenzied.
'This isn't mindless. It's like he lives in a different world.'
His mouth went dry.
Slice.
Slice.
Slice.
Splurt!!!
Tiss pounced on another retreating assassin.
Another subordinate down.
Now three.
"Kuhuhuhu."
Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!!!
He laughed mockingly, slashing at a dead comrade's corpse.
The survivors ground their teeth at the sight.
"Don't move!!!"
As they twitched forward, the leader bellowed.
He burned with the deepest rage among them.
These were men he'd raised for years, one by one.
Blood trickled from his bitten lip.
His trembling fingertips showed no sign of stopping.
'Ha, am I actually feeling fear?'
The goosebumps refused to subside.
Rage, terror, hatred—emotions swirled, churning his mind.
He drew a deep breath.
His eyes darkened deeply.
No more sacrifices.
The leader bared his teeth, raising his sword to thrust at Tiss.
'Even if it costs my life, he dies here.'
Then he spoke.
"You lot, return to Yustia Mansion now and report this."
But the assassins refused the order.
"Leader!"
"We can't!"
"Withdraw the command!!!"
The leader barked like a beast.
"Shut up! This is an order!!! Get out of here now!!!"
The unprecedented roar from their leader silenced them; they clenched their fists.
"We'll fetch reinforcements."
Biting their lips, they obeyed.
'Ha, reinforcements.'
Tiss cocked his head curiously, eyeing the fleeing men.
Like he couldn't let them go, he leaped after them.
The leader charged, thrusting his sword.
"Monster bastard!! Die!!!"
"Kyahahaha!!"
*
'The assassination leader's going for mutual destruction.'
Tiss's body was nearing its limit anyway.
With death resolve, the leader could probably take him down.
Of course, Zeke understood the leader's mindset fully.
Letting this black magic-worshipping scum escape would plant a massive variable in Yustia's future safety.
His desperation to discard his life and eliminate the threat was natural.
What if both died here?
No big issue.
Yustia already knew Lost Hope's danger,
and the fleeing men would spill every detail.
Even if this trash died here, he wasn't all of Lost Hope.
They were a vast group; the threat remained.
'But your life matters more, our assassination leader!'
His true motive was simpler: Indebt Yustia more, cutting future hassles.
Plus, letting Tiss live would keep the threat a vivid terror.
With the trackable dagger, they could hunt him anywhere.
Zeke finished thinking.
'Yeah, time to intervene. A play needs a proper finale.'
"Haaap!!!!"
The leader charged with sword raised; Tiss grinned back.
Zeke stood.
Then hurled the bread in his hand.
Whoosh!!
The bread flew toward Tiss.
At a pace timed for Tiss's blade to aim at the leader's leg.
Thud!
Simultaneously, Zeke coated Tiss's body in mana.
Boom!
The leader's sword was blocked by Zeke's mana.
Tiss's dagger deeply slashed the leader's leg.
"Damn it!!!"
The leader gnashed his teeth, his final blow thwarted.
Tiss turned toward the bread's origin.
Zeke sent a mental message.
- Tiss. This isn't where you die.
His voice prompted an immediate reaction.
Evidently, the partial past overlay kept him from fully drowning in bloodlust.
Searching for the voice's source, he glanced at the dagger and muttered.
"Heh, Black Mage?"
- Indeed. Ending your blood feast today?
"...Th-that's."
- Don't be too disappointed. Battlefields of flowing blood will continue endlessly. I'll show you a greater world.
"...For Lost Hope."
- You've spread Lost Hope's name. Retire for today.
"Yes. Understood."
- Until I call, leave the capital. Gather magic stones. Kill the weak monsters here endlessly. Then I'll grant greater power.
"Aaaah... I pledge my loyalty."
Tiss turned and fled.
The leader couldn't let the muttering fool escape unscathed.
But his leg wound hindered him.
"Zeke Clayman!!! Catch him!!!"
"Body. Won't. Move."
"Damn it."
No more feigning weakness.
Zeke spoke.
"Leader, were you about to die just now?"
"..."
"He's just the tip of the iceberg. If you die here, preparing for them gets harder."
The leader surveyed his dead subordinates' bodies.
He closed his eyes tightly, then opened them and addressed Zeke.
"Fine... You'll report to Lady Hella and await judgment. No running now."
"Yes. I'm at Lamieli Academy."
"Got it. I'll speak to Lady Hella... Hiding this intel is grave sin, but..."
He couldn't voice executing Zeke now.
Lost Hope was a dangerous organization.
They crippled normal minds, turned men into murder machines,
and their leaders were on another level.
'He drew the assassination unit into his scheme too...'
To protect Iriel alone, knowing he'd be hunted,
he'd come here, playing all his cards.
'More to report.'
Ha. A deep sigh escaped him.
He'd always steeled for comrades' deaths,
but losing so many at once was unforeseen.