A Fractured Equilibrium
In the darkness of a sealed room, two men sat across from each other with a small table between them. One wore a white mask that hid his face; the other was the red-haired man who had stood before Anak alongside Hyler.
On the table rested a single crystal orb, its surface webbed with cracks as though it had shattered from within.
“I figured it would end this way. Success was always going to be a long shot for that one-armed fool, wasn’t it? Or was I the one who took his arm? Heh heh.”
While the masked man did his best to sound indifferent, the red-haired man picked up the broken orb and began tossing it lightly into the air with one hand, catching it again and again like a mischievous boy.
He was smiling. His gestures brimmed with playfulness. Yet his eyes held no trace of laughter. They burned with the same madness Anak had witnessed and with raw fury at a plan gone wrong.
“…Even if his reputation has faded, he’s still one of the people who saved the world. Or perhaps the High Assassin Guild is simply less capable than I imagined?”
At the masked man’s mocking words, the red-haired man offered a thin smile and hurled the crystal orb onto the floor behind him.
“Who can say? That might be exactly right. Otherwise, someone like you would never have risen to the guild’s leadership.”
The High Assassin Guild. Originally it had been nothing more than a loose coalition of several assassin organizations—smaller groups that struggled to secure high-profile clients. Cooperation between assassins, however, allowed for far more efficient operations, and naturally their success rates climbed. While top-tier assassins usually demanded exorbitant fees, the guild offered relatively reasonable prices, so clients began to prefer them.
In time the organization swelled in the shadows, its name spreading. Renowned assassins started joining for the sake of survival. Yet as the group grew, secrecy became harder to maintain and wary eyes turned toward them in ever greater numbers.
No nation would ever officially recognize an assassins’ guild, and the organization shared neither creed nor ideology—it was simply a criminal enterprise driven by profit. They had no intention of fighting the regular armies of entire kingdoms simply to defend the word “guild.”
So, to ensure its continued existence, the High Assassin Guild approached powerful figures in kingdoms, empires, and republics alike. To win their cooperation, the guild began granting their cruelest wishes: eliminating political rivals, securing advantageous positions in succession struggles, or simply accepting bribes. At first, that was all.
But the high officials soon realized the guild was both a useful tool for fulfilling their ambitions and a blade that could be turned against them. They began to privatize the High Assassin Guild for their own purposes and safety.
As a result, the guild was allowed to exist in the shadows, yet its leadership gradually filled with nobles and capitalists who wielded enormous financial and political power. In the end, the very people who had once been mere clients swallowed the guild whole.
Ironically, that very fact made it nearly impossible for any single leader to move the guild for personal goals.
Every member of the leadership was now a high-ranking noble or magnate. One person’s gain inevitably became another’s loss, so the leaders constantly checked one another, maintaining a precarious balance.
However, the great war had completely altered the power structure of every nation. Several high officials had lost their lives in the conflict, and the delicate equilibrium among the guild’s leaders was now shaking violently.
In times of such chaos, there were always those who sought to seize the advantage.
“Watch your tongue. You may be one of the highest-ranked assassins, but that title is nothing more than a convenient label.”
Even while sitting alone with one of the guild’s top assassins, the masked man showed no sign of intimidation. On the contrary, he rested a hand on the sword at his side, making it clear he would tolerate no further insolence.
A dangerous tension filled the air for a moment. Then the red-haired man slowly raised both hands in a show of surrender.
“…Yes, yes. I understand. I’ll behave.”
His eyes remained defiant even as he spoke. Still, the masked man withdrew his hand from his sword.
“So what do we do now? We’ve already lost one of our bases. Any further movement and the other leaders will hear of it. Naturally, they won’t lift a finger to help.”
Though his tone had grown somewhat polite, his attitude remained flippant.
“Indeed. Those cowardly old raccoons would never dare touch a companion of the hero. There’s no helping it. For now, we hide and wait for the right moment.”
“What a shame. I truly believed this would be the perfect chance to lure out Bagloros.”
At the red-haired man’s words, the masked man reached into his robe and produced a small black sphere. Its surface was densely engraved with spells and incantations.
“Yes. No matter how stoic he is, even he couldn’t stay hidden forever after the death of a comrade.”
I let out a long breath the moment I stepped out of the cave, filling my lungs with crisp, clean air. Getting out safely was a relief, but walking back through that stench had been far more exhausting the second time.
“All right, then…”
I took out the scroll I had prepared earlier. The cave ran deep, and I had no idea how collapsing it might affect the surrounding bedrock. I didn’t even know what level of spells had been engraved inside.
Even so, I couldn’t leave it standing. If I did, the High Assassin Guild might reuse it someday. Unknowing travelers could wander in and get hurt. Besides…
…turning it into a tomb doesn’t seem like a bad idea.
The instant I tore the scroll, a heavy boom shook the earth and the cave collapsed in on itself. I had braced for fissures opening in the ground or the hillside sliding down, but the impact was surprisingly minor. Aside from a slight depression in the earth above the cave, there was almost no visible change.
“So… what now?”
Unfortunately, this was no longer something I could handle on my own.
…I’ll have to go find Bagloros.
If anyone could locate the red-haired man, it was him. He would resolve the situation easily and quietly. Of course, reaching him would be anything but ordinary.
“Will he answer?”
Just as before, runes floated in the empty air, but I couldn’t be sure the other party would respond to the summons. It had been far too long, and our contract carried no compulsion.
Fortunately, my worry proved groundless. A shadow fell over me, accompanied by a familiar cry as a massive bird descended to the ground.
“It’s been a while, Erill.”
She possessed a sharp golden beak, feathers the color of fresh blood, and a body large enough to snatch a grown man with one talon. She was the ruler of the Loxian Mountains—one of the few phoenixes still living on this continent.
“Did the children leave the nest safely?”
She nodded. Pride and powerful maternal love filled both her eyes and the consciousness linked to mine. But the feeling lasted only a moment before a wave of reproach traveled through our bond.
“Yeah, yeah. It really has been too long. I should have visited at least once.”
Phoenixes were famous for rarely forming contracts with summoners, yet ever since I had helped a lost fledgling during our journey through the Loxian Mountains, she had been assisting us like this.
Of course, because she needed to raise her young and protect her territory, our contract held no binding force. Still, she had always answered my calls during the great war. I was truly grateful.
“I need to find Bagloros. Can you carry me to the Mereka Mountains?”
She accepted without hesitation. The flocks of wyverns that darkened the skies above the Mereka Mountains and the Ancient Forest lying beneath them posed no threat to her.
She lowered her body and extended one wing like a staircase.
“Excuse me, then.”
I stepped onto her wing and climbed onto her back. Her feathers were still impossibly soft. I loved this texture. I had once fallen asleep nestled among them, and I could confidently say it was the most comfortable rest of my entire life.
“I mentioned it last time, but could I take a few of these feathers with me? They’d make a wonderful blanket.”
She laughed off my light joke—or at least pretended to—and slowly spread her wings. A current of mana enveloped us, and with a single powerful flap we rose into the sky.
Phoenixes do not fly by wing strength alone. They are creatures of powerful magic who instinctively use mana to ascend more easily and fly at incredible speeds. The mana they wrap around their bodies also makes the ride exceptionally comfortable and safe.
“Now that I think about it, it really has been a long time since I flew like this.”
During our last journey I had flown through the sky almost every day. Even when I wasn’t riding Erill, Lord Medrup’s flight magic let me scale cliffs or slip over castle walls. Flying had become routine.
Before long the landscape below had shrunk to a distant patchwork. I remembered being afraid the first time I flew this high. I had never liked heights, and a fall would have been fatal regardless of any protective barriers.
Yet even now, looking down…
…I admit it. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long, but I’m still a little scared.
Suddenly Erill shook her body from side to side. I instinctively flattened myself against her back. At the same time, a burst of delight flowed through our mental link. She had sensed my fear and decided to tease me.
“…Erill.”
She laughed mischievously. She hadn’t been this playful before. She used to feel sharper, more solemn. Was this her way of showing how glad she was to see me again, or had something happened during the past few years?
The question flickered through my mind and vanished. We flew for a long time after that, passing through a sky blazing with sunset and then one glittering with stars. Even so, we had not yet reached the Mereka Mountains.
“Erill, let’s rest down there for tonight.”
If we continued until dawn we could reach the mountains, and she could fly for days without rest. The problem was that I could not.
Riding a phoenix through the open sky was surprisingly draining on the mind. Even if I fell asleep, she would never drop me, but there was a vast difference between knowing something intellectually and feeling it in your bones.
We descended to the earth. She lowered herself deeply so I could dismount.
“See you tomorrow, Erill.”
She tilted her head, seemingly surprised. She had probably expected me to sleep nestled against her as I had in the past.
It would have been pleasant. Her feathers were still wonderfully soft and warm. But the position would have been uncomfortable for her. Phoenixes rarely sleep except in extreme old age. Asking her to remain in the same posture for hours felt unfair.
The one time I had done so before was when I had neither proper clothes nor Lord Medrup’s protection, and it had been the only way to escape the cold.
“It’s all right. I have somewhere else to sleep.”
She was neither a being from another realm nor a creature materialized through mana, so I could not simply dismiss her. A summoner’s spell was fundamentally different from a portal or teleportation.
That meant she would have to spend the night here and, once everything was finished, fly back to the Loxian Mountains alone. It was precisely for that reason that I always hesitated to call her.
Still, she would enjoy herself. The area was full of monsters, and she loved a challenge. A delicious feast would follow.
“Have fun. I’ll call you when it’s time to leave.”
She gave me a meaningful look, then soared into the night sky. Several monster dens in the vicinity would probably never see the morning sun.