Stealing the Kill
Was saying something like that really enough to make both villains and heroes awaken?
Drip, drip—
The blood-soaked gauntlet spat out thick droplets of red.
I caught my breath while staring down at the one whose face had twisted into something grotesque before he finally collapsed.
A few experimental kicks with my boot produced no movement at all.
He was already dead.
Forcing my body to move had left every joint aching. I stretched, shook out my arms, and still found the pain too much, so I dismissed the entire suit of armor and worked my limbs free.
A man in a bathrobe doing jumping jacks over a corpse.
That man was me.
As the stretches continued, something suddenly surfaced in my mind.
What had that cracked window earlier been about?
The twin sister had looked as if she’d spotted something; what exactly had she seen before heading downstairs?
Either way, I still needed to kill that woman Lucy for the two thousand coins.
Whatever it was, I had to go find her.
I stepped on the first twin—already gone cold—and sprang upward, catching the edges of the split ceiling with both hands. Chin-up style, I hooked one leg over and, grunting with effort, hauled myself back onto the third floor.
Even I had to admit it wasn’t a cool look.
I’d come to my room intending to change clothes, only for that damn window to have wrecked the place; the wardrobe had toppled completely. Every garment inside was coated in dust and dirt—nothing left worth wearing.
“Damn it.”
No choice. I’d have to use the ring again.
I tossed the bloodstained bathrobe aside and slipped on the Ring of Disguise.
Whoosh—
I shifted back into the appearance I’d worn before returning to the lodging, then set off after the second twin.
Finding her proved simple enough.
Clang! Clang!
The ring of metal on metal. I followed the sound while heading opposite the direction people were fleeing, and there she was.
Lucy was locked in combat with a swordsman.
Odd enough that she was fighting someone other than me—her actual target—but the “someone else” was even stranger.
He wore a heavy, boxy helmet, and beneath it a muffler of the sort used in deserts. Summer had passed, yet it still wasn’t cold enough for that; just looking at him made me feel overheated. And despite the firmly secured helmet, his clothes above and below were ordinary everyday wear, creating a jarring mismatch.
It was like wearing a hoodie under a full motorcycle racing helmet—weird enough that he might pass for some hardcore bike-scene veteran with questionable fashion sense.
Yes. The helmet.
A man forced to keep that helmet on, unable to remove it at will.
The older brother Amelia always mentioned.
The Fourth Prince.
The royal family’s strongest swordsman.
Kairon.
Clang!
Kairon’s battered sword reached Lucy’s neck, yet it refused to cut. Given her physical immunity, that tracked.
“…….”
Then Kairon whipped his head around.
“…Sir… help me… a little…”
A voice that sounded close to tears slipped through the gaps in the helmet.
“You… what are you.”
Lucy’s head snapped toward me as well.
“What about Oppa… you…”
“Ask him in the afterlife. And while you’re at it, listen to my super play.”
“You… bastard!”
Lucy’s eyes bulged.
Ah, crap.
So saying something like that really does make both villains and heroes awaken.
I’d just given her a free stat boost for nothing.
“Die…!”
Lucy ignored Kairon completely and charged me.
However—
Thud—
Kairon hooked her leg and sent her sprawling.
“Guh!”
He flung the old sword aside and threw himself on top of her.
Wasn’t this guy supposed to be the royal family’s strongest swordsman…?
“Ugh, ugh! Let go!”
Kairon seized her legs and tried to snap an ankle.
Right. That made sense.
If strikes and blades didn’t work, joint locks would do the job. Same principle as fighting an armored giant.
Yet no matter how he strained and grunted, Lucy’s ankle refused to break. Instead she hurled Kairon off and lunged at me again.
“Answer me properly! How… how are you still alive…!”
“I simply wasn’t weak enough to die to your own flesh and blood.”
“Grrr…!”
Lucy poured out curses through bloodshot eyes.
But—
Thud!
Kairon piled onto her once more. This time from behind: a rear naked choke.
Covered head to toe in dirt, Kairon rolled through the mud with Lucy locked in his arms.
Was that how royalty fought?
“Get… off… get the hell off…!”
“…….”
While Lucy spat irritated fury, Kairon simply tightened his arms in silence.
“You… can’t…!”
Lucy drove an elbow hard into Kairon’s gut and broke free of the choke. Even then she still hadn’t pierced her own absurd defenses.
“Cough, kheh…”
Her breathing had been interrupted, at least; she steadied herself while looking down at him, then kicked him aside as if he were a nuisance.
Thud!
He got a guard up, but it only halved the impact. Kairon went flying far away.
“You’re pissing me off…”
The words came out like a sigh. Her eyes never left me, still promising murder.
Lucy staggered closer.
This made the third time.
And the third time would be the last.
“Hey. Duck your head.”
“Why? Got any reason I should bow to you?”
“You’d better.”
Behind Lucy—far enough that focus blurred—Kairon was settling into a stance.
The more I concentrated on him, the sharper my focus on Lucy became. Details snapped into place.
At some point he had reclaimed his sword, and now he was clearly preparing that distinctive drawing technique of his.
That was engraved terror.
When I’d first seen the helmet, I’d only thought it looked familiar. He had been one of the powerhouses who clashed with the Holy Knights more than once in my previous life, after all.
But the moment I saw that stance, the feeling went far beyond mere familiarity.
Not an impression—an emotion.
Well then. How many of your brothers died to this?
How exactly did Blash die?
The movement seemed to ask exactly that. It was a stance that dragged those old emotions back to the surface.
The reason I ducked my head on pure instinct was probably the same.
Learned fear, most likely.
Whizz—!
The sword aura carved a smooth line like a falling meteor. Sparkling motes of light trailed behind as the brilliant blade of force shot straight for Lucy’s neck.
Too late to dodge. Even if she had, the intensity alone would have melted anyone nearby.
…Wait.
That can’t happen.
The finishing blow has to be mine.
Rumble!
Armor. Spirits. Buffs. Acceleration.
I chained the sequence together and launched myself forward.
Don’t die yet, Lucy!
BOOM—
I took Kairon’s sword aura head-on in Lucy’s place.
I blocked it—yet I still tumbled so many times I lost count.
“Ugh…”
The second my wits returned I patted myself down with both hands. Thankfully nothing seemed severed.
Grateful to still be breathing, I carefully pushed myself upright. Armor cracked like a shattered car windshield rained down around me in pieces.
And a thought struck me.
In my previous life I had spent every encounter dodging Kairon’s sword aura for dear life. Now I had thrown myself into it like a moth to flame of my own free will.
Had the engraved fear never been anything special after all?
Or…
Had I changed?
Tap, tap.
I brushed the near-powdered armor fragments from my body and walked toward Lucy.
“Why… did you suddenly save me…?”
What nonsense.
I’d saved her in the end, sure, but only because I needed the coins.
Lucy had been so terrified by Kairon’s aura that she seemed to have forgotten I’d killed her brother; she clung to me instead. Understandable, really. Since Kairon had aimed at her, the target herself would have felt the terror even more keenly—like staring straight at an arrowhead through a camera fixed on the bullseye.
“P-please save me. Get me out of here and I’ll do anything…”
“Five young women are already enough.”
Flutter—
One spirit beat its wings elegantly right in front of Lucy’s face.
The ending was the same as always.
Boom!
Mana explosion.
Kairon approached at once and stared blankly at me. Strictly speaking I couldn’t read the eyes behind the helmet, yet I still felt the weight of that gaze.
“Why…”
Why did I save her?
Obviously because I needed the two thousand coins and therefore the last hit—but I couldn’t say that.
Hmm.
Best to answer with a line that fit the situation.
“She was someone who aimed for my life. Naturally I should settle the score with my own hands.”
“…Oh.”
Kairon nodded as if that made perfect sense. The helmet clanked.
In that case I had questions of my own.
Why.
“Why were you fighting this woman? More importantly—why are you even here?”
I exhaled and looked him straight on.
“Lord Kairon.”
I made it clear I knew exactly who he was.
“Here… it wasn’t.”
I’d thought that would be my triumphant line proving I knew his identity, yet he seemed far more caught on the other question.
“Then where?”
“Billy Hospital…”
Billy Hospital lay roughly four hundred meters from the lodging. Did that mean he had spotted the twins breaking into my room from all the way over there?
What kind of eyesight was that?
And the cracked window of my room—that had almost certainly been Kairon’s work as well.
“You launched a sword aura from there?”
Kairon nodded once more.
Not only had he sighted the twins across that distance; he had fired a sword aura. A little late, but it had definitely reached.
“Sir Daywin… Amelia… thank you…”
Kairon shifted hesitantly, then offered something that resembled a bow. Whether it was his first time greeting someone properly or simple timidity, the sincerity still came through.
After all, this was the same Kairon who had sent a letter announcing he would come find me just to say those words. Of course, the confident tone on the envelope and the fidgeting figure standing in front of me looked like two completely different people.
Eliminate the Death God Cult Twin Siblings
+2,000 Coins
The notification arrived right on cue.
Perfect.
Throwing my entire body in front of Kairon’s attack had been worth it.
While Kairon wiped down his sword, I opened the shop window and purchased the Royal Ring.
Fifteen hundred hard-earned coins vanished in an instant.
Coins remaining: one thousand.
Tap—
A small, glittering gold ring dropped into my palm. Its center was cut into a flat circle, with countless fine lines radiating outward like a stylized sun.
It looked as if it would fit Amelia’s finger perfectly—especially the middle finger.
With Kairon already here, I intended to speak with him about the election.
“Lord Kairon, may we speak for a moment? I have something important to convey.”
I stared steadily at the spot behind the helmet where his eyes should be.
Kairon nodded without a word.
I led him to the teahouse Amelia frequented and sat us down on the terrace. Blood will tell, apparently—Kairon ordered milk tea.
How exactly did he plan to drink it while wearing that helmet?
I watched that particular point with private excitement, only for him to casually produce a straw…
“As you already know, I am assisting Amelia.”
As usual, Kairon answered with a nod rather than words.
“Not only with her academy life, but with her future as well.”
I slowly drew out the ring and showed it to him.
“I intend to help her.”
Clank.
He flinched hard enough that the helmet jolted.
“Please do not ask how I obtained it. What matters is that Amelia can regain her qualification.”
I set the small ring on the table.
But if that had been the end of it, I never would have raised the subject in the first place.
“I would like to remain at her side and support her at all times, yet I cannot devote myself to Amelia alone. There are matters to settle in the marquisate, and other students as well. Until I have the time, I ask that you assist Amelia in my place, Lord Kairon.”
“But I…”
“Yes. You cannot simply step in. Whatever the reason, you are currently out of favor with the royal family. Your presence would only hinder Amelia’s standing.”
Then I placed a second ring on the table—the Ring of Disguise I had been wearing.
“Therefore, please run wild to your heart’s content… in my appearance.”