The Face Beneath the Mask
Jeanne stared at Ines in astonishment.
“Father?”
“Everyone here calls him that.”
The leader of the Black Wing, the assassin guild based in Gironde. The title his subordinates used.
Vicente sauntered over and swept a gaze across Jeanne and Ines.
“My daughter has brought quite the distinguished guest.”
Jeanne fiddled with her hair. The pale-blue hair of a royal could easily become a clue to her identity unless she dyed it.
‘I thought assassins would show up just to drag me away while I wandered the city. Royals are tempting prey. But it seems they were looking for Ines, not me.’
Assassins lived in the shadows. No one could simply find them on a whim.
If she wanted to meet them and didn’t know how, she could simply lure them here. So she had walked through Gironde, the city bursting with criminals, without hiding her royal features.
As expected, the assassin appeared before her and guided them to the guild’s hideout. The only surprise was that all their attention was fixed on Ines rather than the royal herself.
What on earth had happened? Jeanne glanced at Ines. Her eyes burned with rage as she glared at Vicente.
Jeanne turned back to scan Vicente. A black half-mask hiding the upper half of his face and his relaxed, unhurried movements. If they had met at a masquerade ball instead of this dungeon, he would have looked like a high-ranking noble.
Vicente, guessing Ines was Jeanne’s subordinate, spoke directly to Jeanne, the one in charge.
“Visitors to Gironde come in only two types. Criminals or those who will soon become criminals.”
“The third type is those who come to meet those criminals.”
“Why would a noble like yourself wish to speak with the dregs of society?”
“Even those at the bottom have their uses.
We must make use of them for this country.”
Vicente let out a mocking laugh.
“What reason would I have to move for a country that is about to perish?”
“If the nation falls, who will protect you?”
“Wouldn’t it be far more profitable to trade your head to Rotinzel than to fight against them?”
Jeanne stepped forward. Ines tried to stop her, but Jeanne pushed her back and moved closer to Vicente.
“The sun.”
“What?”
“That is why you live in this dim underground cave.”
Vicente showed no reaction even after hearing Jeanne’s words.
‘Is he keeping a poker face? No. He doesn’t know what I just said.’
At that moment, Jeanne was certain. The man before her was not the one she knew.
After a moment, Vicente, pretending to be relaxed, flicked his hand.
“We are an organization that moves for money. No matter how much you hold me hostage, the organization will not move according to your will without it.”
“Don’t worry. A hole for the money to flow in will appear soon.”
“As I said earlier, it is more valuable to sell you to Rotinzel than the money you give.”
Vicente blew out the candle near him. As the flame died, the faint light that had illuminated the darkness vanished at the same moment.
Vicente signaled with his hand. People appeared from all corners of the room.
Low voices began to fill the dark space.
“Attack.”
Shadows hiding themselves in the darkness surrounded the Jeanne group.
“The way you greet guests is rather rough, isn’t it?”
Jeanne drew her sword. Even if the room was large, it was still just one chamber. Surrounded by so many people, it felt even smaller.
Thwack—
A thrown stiletto grazed the side of Jeanne’s face. It was probably meant only as a warning; there was no intention to hit.
Jeanne looked in the direction the stiletto had come from. In the pitch-black darkness, she could sense a faint presence.
“Be careful. The poison may be on the blade.”
Ines warned. Fighting assassins was the most difficult. Since some carried poison on their weapons at all times, they could not allow even a single attack.
Jeanne swung her sword to deflect the stiletto. At the same time, she knocked away or dodged several more flying stilettos while worrying about the others.
Clang!
The only sound in the darkness was the clash of weapons.
Jeanne’s blade had pierced someone’s body. Whether it was a well-trained assassin or not, he did not cry out even as he died.
Ines moved with fluid grace, dodging all the blades, then drove a stiletto into a vital point. It was completely different from her usual defensive style with a shield.
‘Something is wrong.’
Ines felt a strange unease while fighting.
They were not on the level of Black Wing assassins.
It was as if they were still half-trained. Or perhaps they had not yet mastered this kind of work.
“Captain! You must never kill them!”
“What?”
“They are children!”
Samer’s panicked movement froze. Jeanne blocked in front of him and parried the incoming attack while asking Ines.
“Children?”
“Vicente likes to use young children as assassins. Their small size lets them hide in places adults cannot enter, and they can easily exploit the enemy’s carelessness.”
Of course, he did not use only children. That would be inefficient.
But there were quite a few children among the assassins in this room who had not yet reached secondary sexual characteristics. In the chaos of battle, they could not distinguish between adult and child, so they had to choose: kill them all or spare them all.
Jeanne grabbed Chastan’s arm and pulled him toward Fabian.
“Put your sword away, Chastan.”
Chastan was the type who could not control himself once he started fighting. In a situation like this, regardless of whether he was a child or not, it would be best to kill them all.
Chastan swayed his body. He was calming the excitement that had been building while catching his breath.
Jeanne twisted her wrist and parried the opponent who had charged forward. The man who dropped his sword immediately retreated a step.
Jeanne felt as if she were fighting underwater. They attacked with the intention of killing her, but she had to face them without killing them, so it became a defensive battle.
Even so, they fought well.
Vicente, watching from a corner, was so troubled that he wondered whether he should call more assassins.
Princess, her escort knight, one innocent young knight, one priest.
Among the assassins, there was no one among Jeanne’s group that would have seemed threatening. At best, they would have targeted Ines and Fabian, the escort of the royal family.
“So the rumors were true.”
Assassins did not believe the exaggerated stories of heroes, saints, and Jeanne. But Jeanne’s pure skill exceeded even those rumors.
At that moment, Ines confirmed the battle was dragging on and slipped out of the encirclement. Without her, more people would have to face the others, but removing the root of the problem would resolve the situation faster.
Ines caught her breath and leaned against the wall. Even after becoming a knight, she had not trained separately. Yet the air here pushed her back into her past self. How to hide her presence, how to move in the darkness—memories long buried in the depths of her mind surfaced one by one.
‘Found.’
Eyes accustomed to darkness could distinguish objects even in pitch-black places. Ines moved, searching for Vicente’s presence that she had confirmed earlier. He was watching the situation as if he were an audience member enjoying the play from afar.
Ines’s movements were superior to any other assassin in the room. When she set her mind to it, even the leader, Vicente, would not notice.
Before long, Ines stood right beside him and pressed a stiletto to his throat.
“Order them to withdraw immediately.”
A gulp echoed. Vicente swallowed hard.
No matter who he was, the leader of an assassin guild, his own life was precious. Ines laughed inwardly at him. Vicente pretended to be calm.
“If you refuse—”
“—I will cut off your head and drop it among them.”
“Mm.”
After careful thought, Vicente made his decision.
“Stop!”
The thick voice rang out, and the movements of the Black Wing froze at once.
“Is this enough? Then… gah.”
Ines slammed his face to the floor and stepped on his head with her foot. She lit the lantern Jeanne held and brightened the light, then hurried over to Ines.
“This is rather excessive.”
“It is not enough.”
“There is something I need to confirm for a moment.”
Jeanne removed Vicente’s half-mask. Under the faint light, the face of a man in his twenties appeared.
“It’s fake.”
Jeanne confirmed the face and tossed the mask aside.
Ines’s expression turned pale with shock.
“That’s impossible. It must be… it must be…”
“Do you know this man’s face?”
“That is…”
Ines tried to protest, but upon thinking, she realized she did not know Vicente’s “real face.”
Vicente always hid part of his face when appearing before his subordinates. Sometimes he wore a mask, sometimes a black half-mask.
So she had never thought to examine his actual face in detail. After all, if the face was hidden, looking at the rest would be meaningless.
“If he is called ‘Father,’ he must be older than this.”
“Yes.”
“And…”
Jeanne recalled the old days.
The Black Wing, just as Vicente was saying, had always been an organization that moved solely for money. They did not hesitate to betray their own country if it meant gaining money.
As a result, before her regression, Jeanne had lost many knights to assassins and even herself had lived in constant fear of being assassinated.
At first, she had naturally assumed it was the enemy’s assassins. But once she learned that they were her own country’s assassins working for a Rotinzel commission, she trembled with disbelief.
They really had fallen to the bottom.
Yet, when it came to money, they were sincere. Even after countless assassins failed to assassinate her, they eventually sent their best assassin to try to kill her.
At that time, Jeanne had seen his face. It was the image of someone who had no choice but to live as an assassin.
And through the captured man, Jeanne had learned the secrets of Vicente.
After thinking it over, Jeanne spoke again.
“The real one is probably watching from somewhere.”
Upon reflection, it was obvious. Was there anyone else who would have more enemies than the position of leader of an assassin guild? Such a person would not appear alone and openly without preparation.
A chuckle came from beneath Ines. The man impersonating Vicente was mocking them.
“You mean my father? Well…”
Ines stepped on him harder. Paying no attention, he continued to speak.
“But why are you so relaxed? If I am not the real Vicente, you should know that they stopped attacking not because they were captured by you.”
The assassins who had been pausing for a moment tightened the encirclement again.