Chapter 107
"Be careful."
Whoosh.
A strangely modulated voice burst from my lips. I lightly grabbed El's sleeve and pulled him inward. No sooner had he come stumbling along with a faintly surprised look than a carriage barreled past the spot where he'd been standing, swaying dangerously close.
"Thank you."
A soft smile bloomed on El's lips, barely visible beneath the robe's hood. Stray locks of brown hair—dyed with a magic tool—poked out from under it.
Brown suits him too, huh.
I found myself admiring anew how El made even the most ordinary shade like brown look stunningly beautiful. Ignoring the stares from passersby with practiced ease, I adjusted my slightly crooked mask.
Both of us had reasons to avoid revealing our identities on the way to an information guild. A duke's daughter and the pope strolling together? It'd look suspicious no matter how you sliced it.
He in his black robe, me in mine with a mask on top—we still looked plenty shady, but better that than getting outed as who we really were.
"Do you have a regular information guild you go to, El?"
"The temple has its preferred ones, sure. But this is just a simple request to track down a missing person, so I'm trying somewhere different from the usual spots. It's been ages since I've hunted down a guild myself."
Of course. Why would the pope ever need to personally scout an information guild? He had plenty of people for that.
I tilted my head slightly.
"Then why handle this one yourself? Because it's the king's request and you want to be thorough?"
El turned to look at me. As his head moved, his silver eyes peeked out from under the black robe, crinkling at the corners.
"You think I'm interested in that guy's request? All I needed was an excuse to spend time with Shushu."
His face lit up with such a gentle smile that my mind went blank for a moment. An odd feeling stirred in me.
"......Ah. This is the entrance to the information guild alley now."
I blinked dazedly at him for a second before snapping back to reality.
Being someone another person wanted to be with—it felt good. My ears tingled faintly with warmth.
If you looped around the capital's streets and delved deep enough, you'd hit the alley where all the information guilds clustered. I usually handled personal requests through informants I knew personally, so I didn't come to the guild alley all that often.
We pushed through the crowd murmuring and eyeing me—debating if I was the real Mir or not—when El suddenly stopped.
"How about that one? Never used it myself, but it's pretty famous. Should be fine for digging up one person's whereabouts."
I followed his gesture to the building and blinked.
'Hide & Ceek'.
An information guild that had popped up about five years ago, now quite well-known. Even I, who rarely used guilds, had heard of its reputation.
No problem there... but something feels off.
I narrowed my eyes, staring intently at the sign. The purple-and-hot-pink lettering in cursive script: 'Hide & Ceek'.
The misspelling of 'Hide & Seek' stirred a strange emotion in me.
"Don't like this place? We can go somewhere else."
El asked, noticing my lingering gaze on the sign.
I glanced around for a moment before shaking my head.
"No, it's fine. Let's go here."
Idiot.
I cursed myself for still being haunted by ghosts of the past and headed for the door first.
"Ah, hold on."
El stopped me just as I was about to enter.
"If it's okay, could you wait out here? I'll handle it and be right back."
"But... what if it gets dangerous inside?"
I furrowed my brow. El's expression flickered subtly at the word dangerous, then he let out a small ugh.
"Don't worry. It's really fine. With Shushu here... well, it's hard for me to explain directly."
He looked somehow troubled, so I nodded. If El faced any threat inside, I'd sense it faster than anyone. Waiting outside wouldn't be an issue—I could rush in the instant I felt danger, beating any real harm to him.
"Alright then. Go ahead."
"Be right back."
El smiled gratefully at my easy agreement and slipped through the door.
I watched where he'd vanished, then leaned against the guild's outer wall. I observed how the bustling alley gradually emptied as dusk deepened, until not a soul remained. Then I sank into thought.
......I wonder if that bastard's doing okay.
I grimaced at the figure flickering in my mind. I didn't want to think of him, but he was etched too deeply to ignore.
I bit my lip.
That son of a bitch.
Thinking of him always dragged up another face, one that stabbed at my heart.
The one person who'd held onto my younger self. Still the ideal I aspired to most.
......Master Karasho.
Once upon a time, I'd had a mentor.
A woman with unyieldingly upright eyes.
The mercenary Karasho had taken me in—wary of the world and obsessed only with saving Aria—and become my master.
'When you swing your sword, don't waver. Fix your eyes on what you're cutting and cleave true. A trembling blade means the difference between life and death.'
'No one in this world deserves to die. There might come a time when you have no choice but to kill, but fundamentally, hold this in your heart. Once you start thinking some people deserve death, everyone becomes expendable.'
'When you sever a person's breath...... never look away from their eyes. You must bear the weight of the life you're taking...... even if it scars you. That's how you avoid becoming a monster.'
I learned the sword from her—and the world. Maybe she was my world.
Not long after diving into mercenary work, knowing nothing, I traveled with her, slaying magic beasts.
And then, the winter I turned thirteen. A pristine white snowy plain.
I still vividly remembered what had stained those pure snowflakes.
That moment when my senses—sight, sound, smell, touch—surpassed human limits. My heightened perception still dragged me back to that nightmare.
The instant my despair took form was still hell for me.
If only I could forget it all...
I squeezed my eyes shut, struggling to suppress the surge of emotion.
I still hated winter. Snowy days especially.
The smell of human blood made my head spin; swarms of massive magic beasts turned my stomach.
I was still trapped in that memory.
Come to think of it, I let her death anniversary pass last year without doing anything.
I'd always visited her grave yearly before, but after joining House Crisis and getting swamped with duties, I'd forgotten.
......Pathetic weakling.
Truth be told, couldn't visit was more accurate. I hadn't forgotten her.
I remembered always. But I hadn't mustered the courage to go.
Because I was too happy.
Yeah. Too happy.
Time with my new family, with a healthy Aria—it was all so joyfully overwhelming. Meeting friends, laughing together—it was precious.
I didn't want to shatter that happiness.
I wanted to hold onto it.
After visiting Karasho's grave, I died inside.
Sleep? I couldn't even dream of it. Endless nightmares awaited.
Gripping my sword brought back that day's sensations so vividly my hands shook too much to swing.
Food filled my mouth with the stench of blood; I'd vomit anything. Opening my eyes brought tears first.
I suffocated but didn't die. It took ages to recover from this nightmare.
I spent that time in hell.
Cowardly bastard...
I buried my face in my hands, swallowing the rising tears. It was just an excuse. The most spineless one.
I simply couldn't bear the weight of the life I'd failed to protect.
I shouldn't be dwelling on this.
I sighed, clamping my mouth shut. The submerged memories from back then resurfaced, crashing over me.
I wanted to erase them all.
Calm down. No time for personal emotions.
I took slow, deep breaths, circulating the mana clouded by dark feelings through my body.
Whatever El's intentions, I'd come as his escort knight. No time for weakness.
Yeah. It'll be fine. I'm—
Nine.
And the world froze.
My pupils dilated; my heart pounded wildly.
No way. This is...
My instincts screamed nonstop warnings. My danger sense was about to explode.
But what shocked me wasn't the approaching threat.
Everyone has their own unique energy. A flow of mana, or maybe aura—something distinctive.
Since becoming a Sword Expert, I'd read people through it.
And the energy approaching now was one I'd tried to forget but still remembered clearly.
I held my breath.
That person always carried this scent.
A frigid fragrance like winter itself. The smell of snow piling on the ground.
A biting chill that could freeze you to the bone.
Shiiik!
I tilted my head to dodge the dagger slicing through the air with a fierce whoosh. My reaction lagged slightly from the shock freezing my brain. Blood trickled from the graze on my cheek, but I had no time for that.
"I heard you became a Sword Master, but you're still slow, Mir."
The familiar voice from behind, like a finisher blow. That seductive low timbre rattled my brain.
I clenched my fists, grinding my teeth.
Boom!
Black killing intent exploded from my entire body. The ground beneath my feet trembled faintly.
First time unleashing full killing intent since facing Devera.
Black mist enveloped the area. Even ordinary folk would've collapsed, but the footsteps approaching from behind continued unabated.
I snarled, spitting curses like venom.
"You dare show your face before me, you bastard."
Shling.
I drew my sword fluidly as water, spinning in a half-circle to level the tip at his throat.
Rage boiled through me.
And our eyes met.
Still the same. Ruthlessly so.
He'd matured far beyond his tender boyhood, yet unchanged.
His purple—death's color—was lethally beautiful. Eyes like transparent amethysts, hiding his true thoughts, sparkling coldly.
Sharp upward-slanting eyes. Delicate lashes. Snow-white skin.
A white mask identical in shape to mine covered his face. Short jet-black hair fluttered in the wind.
Spring it might be, but the scent riding the breeze from him was pure winter.
I steadied my trembling hand against the soft give of skin piercing easily. Red blood welled on his snow-pale throat.
Aimed at a vital spot, yet he showed no flinch, utterly calm—flipping my insides.
I suppressed the nausea from the rising metallic blood scent, locking my blazing furious eyes on his.
"Zigmund...... Zigmund."
The name of this hated man I'd once called friend. My voice dropped to a feral growl, like a beast's howl.
Our gazes clashed fiercely.
Even as a Sword Master, even after six more years of life, his eyes remained unreadable.
I'd always hated that gaze. Past and present.
Click.
He slowly reached up with one hand and lightly removed his mask.
His fully revealed face was still breathtakingly beautiful.
Then his red lips parted. He smiled radiantly, like a waxing crescent moon.
"Long time no see, Shushu."
As if nothing had happened. Greeting an old friend after ages apart.
The thread holding me snapped.
Boom!
Without hesitation, I swung my sword at him.