Chapter 112
‘Prazia. While the duel is going on, keep a close eye on that guy without getting spotted. Once it ends, stick tight to him, figure out where their hideout is, and get back here right away. Can you handle it?’
‘Yeah. I can.’
‘Got it. Then I’ll leave it to you—’
‘I want... compensation.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Hiding my presence and moving around is tiring. It’s hard. So give me... proper compensation.’
‘...Uh, I don’t really have anything on me right now. All I’ve got in my pocket is this handkerchief—’
‘Give it.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Give it.’
‘Wait, this is the one I’ve been using... It hasn’t been washed yet, so it probably smells.’
‘Give it.’
‘...Fine. Here you go.’
Prazia carefully tailed Bellier’s path until she spotted him slipping into a rundown house on the outskirts of the academy city. It was just a shabby little place, but the murderous vigilance radiating from the surroundings—and the faint sense of a powerful presence inside—made her pause to assess the situation. She stealthily climbed onto the roof, minimizing her presence as much as possible.
It was a feat impossible for ordinary humans, but as someone with strong dragon blood, she had mastered the ability to control even her own aura.
Unsure what was being discussed inside, she planned to wait until Bellier made another move. That’s when she remembered the handkerchief of Mars’s tucked safely in her inner breast pocket.
She gently fished it out, and the memory of Mars’s face—looking almost apologetic as he handed it over—brought a smile to her lips. Sure, she was the one who’d asked for it, and she’d wanted it badly, but why had he seemed so sorry? Deep down, she knew it was because he regretted not giving her something better. That tiny bit of care and kindness felt all the sweeter for it.
Prazia carefully unfolded the gifted handkerchief and pressed it to her nose.
‘Sweat smell...’
It was a familiar scent of sweat. Not the thick, acrid stench from her family’s knights training in the northern dojang back home, but something clear and warm.
Does sweat even become extraordinary at the Aura Lord level? she wondered.
Noctus Style 2: Thunderclap Slash
“—!!”
A surge of killing intent hit her senses. She rolled away in an instant, dodging the attack—but she couldn’t stop the ceiling from collapsing. Her incredible physical prowess let her regain her balance mid-fall, landing unscathed.
Crack—!
Rumble—!
The ceiling caved in with tremendous force, drawing the outside guards rushing in—but Prazia had no attention to spare for mere humans.
“Ho ho. Still in good health, I see. I considered escorting you politely last time, but it seems that wasn’t to your taste.”
‘Disgusting...’
His speech and gestures were impeccably polite, but the foul stench pouring from the man made it hard to even keep her eyes open. Squinting through the revulsion, she tried to make out his face—but it was murky and blurred, like ink smeared with water droplets.
“You’d be wise not to try peering at my face. Seeing my true visage is a privilege reserved solely for Him.”
He spoke calmly, but Prazia sensed a sliver of delight in his tone.
“...Nicholas?”
-Grrruuuk?
Kuhk! Krhek!!
A few weeks back, her father had reported that Nicholas—the culprit behind the previous incident—hadn’t been found anywhere. Witnessing the result now, she understood why this man seemed so pleased. He was the filthy type who genuinely reveled in others’ pain and misfortune.
-Kruuuueeeek!!!
Boom—!
“Ugh!”
The monster that was once Nicholas lunged without warning. Prazia blocked it, but the visceral impact rattled her guts, forcing her back.
‘What power?’
“Dragons truly are impressive. Just a sliver of that alien trait injected into him, and he wields such destructive force... Shame he can’t follow orders properly, but it’s not a bad trade-off, is it?”
“Shut... up!!”
Prazia whipped out her sword, aiming for the man’s throat—but Nicholas closed in, forcing her to flip back mid-air.
Swoosh—
Slash.
‘Ah.’
As she retreated, the upper part of her uniform tore slightly—and the handkerchief tucked inside flew out.
‘...No!!’
Prazia lunged instinctively, hand outstretched for the handkerchief. But Nicholas’s massive maw gaped wide, fangs aimed at her off-balance form.
In the slowed world around her, Prazia eyed the approaching jaws and had one worry.
‘I hope he eats me cleanly. Otherwise, Mars will find it gross.’
Splat—
Thud.
Time resumed. Prazia felt the dull impact of hitting the ground, then opened her eyes softly—no pain.
“Ah.”
“I told you to call if you spotted them. What are you doing here...?”
In that moment of crisis, Prazia couldn’t help a smirk. The man who’d come to save her had eyes full of worry, unlike his usual cool demeanor.
* * *
I roughly patched up my wounds and checked the communicator linked to Prazia. For some reason, her position had stalled in one spot.
“Already found them?”
It was pretty far out on the outskirts. Those fringe areas—hotbeds for illegal arms dealers and black markets—were seriously dangerous. Even after the emperor’s purge cut out the cancer once, like rogue cells, these vermin just regrew elsewhere, leeching off the city’s shadows to peddle that drug. The news alone nearly made me puke.
‘It’ll be fine. Grab them quick, check their ledgers for sales, and we can mop up the remaining Drak fast.’
I was waiting for her return with that naive optimism when a massive power wave slammed into my mind.
“!!”
“!!”
Polo beside me jolted too—his senses sharpened by the drug let him grasp just how alien that energy was.
“Polo! Round up the others and follow! You felt the spot, right?”
“Yeah! Got it!!”
I smashed through the window and bolted toward the wave’s origin. The Heaven God Cult bastards weren’t idiots—they wouldn’t flaunt their presence in some empty nowhere. Given the situation, Prazia’s stealth must’ve been blown.
I raced to the outskirts at top speed, eyes scanning until I spotted the owner of that sky-blue hair.
The problem? A mystery monster charging right at her. Her stance had collapsed for some reason—if it connected, her waist would snap in two.
‘Should I bisect it?’
Noctus Style 2: Thunderclap Slash
Shwaaaa—!
Splat—!
I barreled into the monster at full tilt, swinging my blade without holding back. It shattered on impact—like lightspeed, no, thunder-speed—its corpse scattering twenty meters wide.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Good thing. If you got hurt, the Grand Duke would kill me.”
“Sorry about losing your handkerchief...”
“Huh? No, it’s just a handkerchief. I’ll get you a better one later.”
Seeing her mope over the one I’d given her killed any urge to say more. It was just a used rag— no need to feel that bad.
“Oh dear. So you’re the man always thwarting our grand plans.”
“...Who the hell are you?”
“Sadly, I’m not the hands-on type. Still, I must offer proper hospitality to a guest.”
-■■■ ■■■■. ■■■ ■■■ ■■■■.
Crack—Crunch—
Krunch!!
-Kuuuwaaaahhh!!!
“What the fuck is this?!”
The blurry-faced ringleader muttered some incantation, and suddenly his underlings’ faces twisted—skin ripping as monsters burst out from within. Their forms varied wildly, but they all shared exposed veins from skinless bodies and a hunger to devour anyone nearby.
“Don’t you dare!!”
I kicked and slashed the ones lunging at people, refusing to let them close—but—
Crunch!
“Keh... Kekhek...”
“Shit—!”
Their sheer numbers and freakish strength made me falter momentarily, and soon enough, one casualty.
The monster’s maw—bristling with barb-like teeth—tore into the victim’s nape, gouging it like a bitten pie.
“Kyaaaaah!!”
“Huuuaah! Monsters!!”
No matter how harsh the outskirts were, people lived there. Drawn by the daytime racket, onlookers got caught in the gruesome feast.
“Goddamn it...”
I spat curses at the maniacs throwing a slaughter party in broad daylight on the city’s edge, drawing up my aura.