The Crow's Mournful Cry (1)

Professor Dakeus Altman remained in his research office late into the night.

To an outside observer, it might have looked like the tireless dedication of an academic, but nothing could have been further from the truth.

"Phew."

His stomach churned with acid, and a ragged sigh slipped past his lips. Beside his hand sat a teacup he had drained and refilled five times already. It was supposedly a blend renowned for its calming properties, but it hadn't done a damn thing for his nerves.

To think that little bastard Yon actually spilled his guts.

He could swallow the fact that Ziel had meddled and ruined the scheme. The real disaster was Yon Riversong's confession.

Dakeus cast his bloodshot eyes once more over the incident report sent up by the campus security division.

"That miserable, incompetent Crow..."

Had the operative failed to keep Yon quiet? After all the warnings Dakeus had given him?

"He should be here by now."

Tap, tap.

Dakeus drummed his fingers against the polished desk. Just then, catching a faint rustle of displaced air, he pushed the office window open.

"You're late."

The moment the sash cleared the sill, a shadow slipped inside and landed soundlessly on the carpet.

"My apologies. I had loose ends to tie up."

"Tying up loose ends? Then how did you manage to leave a student's mouth wide open?" Dakeus seethed, though he caught himself and lowered his voice to a harsh rasp. "Did Yon realize who you were?"

"No. He has no idea who I am. The security division will likely dismiss his claims as the desperate ramblings of a boy trying to dodge expulsion."

Dakeus let out a strained, aching groan. "I can bury the security division's investigation. The captain over there is an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠old junior of mine. The real problem is House Kundel!"

Indeed.

The true nightmare was the Kundel family. Alongside House Rihart, they were the most formidable powerhouse in the entire empire.

"Maybe I should have just killed Yon from the start."

The chilling words tumbled from Dakeus's lips with disturbing ease.

If I had, things would have been infinitely simpler.

A disgraced student, so desperate to compete in the Exchange Event that he cheated, driven by guilt to take his own life—how clean and tidy that would have been. The original objective was merely to eliminate Deleve from the roster. While hiring an operative had cost a pretty penny, it wasn't his own coin anyway. If Deleve had suffered a quiet, paralyzing defeat, nobody would have been the wiser, and everyone would have walked away satisfied.

Instead, the entire affair had derailed.

That wretched elective instructor.

It was all because that miserable bastard had shoved his nose into it.

There's definitely something wrong with that guy. Having eyes sharp enough to catch something like that from across the ring...

Still, dwelling on it wouldn't solve anything. Infuriating as the man was, Dakeus had to prioritize damage control.

"It's best we don't lay a finger on Yon for now. If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he dies under guard, suspicions will skyrocket."

"Understood. What would you have me do instead?"

"Lie low, of course! What about the physical evidence? Can you steal it back?"

"That would be difficult. The security division's evidence vault is shielded by warding magic. Even for someone of my trade, infiltrating it is out of the question. You should drink some tea to cool your head, Professor. It's going cold."

His blood boiling, Dakeus whirled around, snatched up his cup, and threw back what was left in several violent gulps. Rather than soothing his temper, the tepid liquid only seemed to fan the flames. He swung back around and leveled a venomous snarl at Erso.

"Then what the hell did I hire you for?! Utterly useless, and you have the gall to call yourself a Crow..."

A Crow.

Erso's eyebrow gave a faint twitch.

Dakeus, sharp enough to notice the micro-expression, sneered mockingly. "What, does that offend you? Then you should have done your job properly! Dammit. If this blows up, we've kicked a hornet's nest!"

"..."

Erso forced his voice into a veneer of professional composure. "The situation has developed far beyond our initial parameters. I require a portion of the agreed-upon fee in advance."

"You botch the mission and dare ask for money?!"

"This is an entirely separate matter from the outcome," Erso shot back, his own patience finally wearing thin. "And if anyone has the right to be furious right now, it is us."

"What did you say?"

"You never once mentioned the name 'Deleve Kundel' in your original request. You merely commissioned us to deliver a dose of paralyzing poison and its deployment mechanism to a student."

"...So what? It just so happened that Deleve was—"

"I did wonder why you were offering a million cels for such a mundane errand."

One million cels.

In the underworld, contracts that crossed the seven-figure threshold were extraordinarily rare. The legendary Black Sky syndicate might have commanded base fees starting at three million cels, but their terrifying lethality justified the price tag.

For a Crow, a contract worth a few hundred thousand is already a jackpot.

Even a fraction of that was serious money. With a million cels, one could buy a handsome townhouse in the capital or purchase a sprawling countryside vineyard and live like a landed lord. It was enough capital to purchase high-yield commercial bonds near the capital and idle away the rest of one's days in luxury.

"All that money, simply to administer a drop of paralysis poison to an ordinary student," Erso murmured coldly.

"..."

"Had we known the target was a son of House Kundel, we never would have accepted the commission."

Even the higher-ups in Red Shadow likely hadn't known. Or, more realistically, they had deliberately turned a blind eye, blinded by the mountain of coin being thrust into their coffers.

"Concealing critical parameters of a target is valid grounds for unilateral termination of contract."

"Is that so? Trying to pull your foot out of the mud now, are you?"

"There is also a breach-of-contract penalty clause, Professor Dakeus of the Edelbein Academy Sword School," Erso stated, deliberately emphasizing the title.

Dakeus's nostrils flared with fury. "Are you threatening me?"

His gaze drifted toward the longsword resting on a nearby weapon rack. Even if he had retired from active combat a decade ago, he was still an imperial knight; putting down an underworld thief was well within his capabilities.

"We cannot proceed under the current terms. You know as well as I do what happens if this comes to light. Our organization would face total eradication."

"..."

House Kundel.

Their prestige and political clout were staggering. There was a reason people throughout the empire whispered that beneath the imperial throne stood only Kundel and Rihart.

"An additional three million cels."

"You insolent little..."

"Provide that much, and I will consider carrying this through."

The moment the words left his mouth, Erso felt a pang of regret.

Should I have asked for five million?

To betray that terrifying monster waiting outside, he needed a sum of that caliber. With that kind of fortune, it was worth gambling his life. He could flee the empire entirely.

Who in the world is that guy, anyway?

To play a first-class Crow like a fiddle without breaking a sweat... Erso's neck still ached where the cold steel had pressed into his flesh.

"...Fine. Three million cels. You have a deal. I will provide an advance of one million tomorrow."

Surprisingly, Dakeus conceded without further argument.

Oho? Erso thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. He must be truly desperate to see this through. That changes things.

"I will specify the location later. Meet me there. There are far too many eyes near this building."

Erso swallowed his lingering greed, pleased enough with the concession. "A wise decision. We shall finalize the details tomorrow, then."

Erso slipped back out through the window and vanished into the night.

Left alone, Dakeus unleashed the rage he had barely kept contained.

"What a rotten, cursed mess..."

Dakeus Altman.

As the second son of the Altman family, he had possessed no claim to the title of patriarch, prompting him to carve out a path through the knight orders before eventually securing a post at the academy. Naturally, the million cels he had promised the Crow had never come from his own pocket.

If this fails, House Siren will have my head.

House Siren.

One of the empire's Five Great Families. In size, renown, and political authority, they stood directly beneath Kundel and Rihart. If Kundel and Rihart were martial dynasties built upon swordcraft and warriors, Siren was a kingdom of mages. They were an untouchable juggernaut that produced legions of high-ranking wizards and held absolute sway over the arcane community.

And it was House Siren that had entrusted this mission to Dakeus.

Naturally...

Three million cels? Don't make me laugh.

He didn't possess three million cels, not even if someone beat him to death. Even if he did, he wouldn't hand it over to an underworld rodent.

Why would he?

Tomorrow night, at the secluded rendezvous, he intended to slaughter the Crow with his own hands. Once the corpse was disposed of, the trail would go completely cold.

Dakeus was backed into a corner, and it was all because of Ziel.

I ought to butcher that damn instructor alongside him.

If not for that meddlesome instructor, the scheme never would have unraveled like this.

First, the Crow.

Kill the Crow, then find an opportune moment to silence Yon or get him expelled. Orchestrating another trap to have the boy suspended in disgrace would effectively destroy his credibility.

"How on earth did it come to this...?"

Such extreme measures were born of pure panic. If House Siren discovered this blunder, far from providing another three million cels, they would reclaim the initial advance and dispose of him. Betraying House Siren was not an option, either. It was House Siren that had sponsored an insignificant noble like him, elevated him to knight captain, and planted him in a comfortable professorship at the academy.

I will fix this. One way or another.

Treacherous schemes collided against treacherous intentions in the dark.

Meanwhile...

Three million cels.

Erso wore a wide, giddy grin as he pictured the astronomical fortune. Having slipped out of Dakeus's office and melted into the shadows of the academy grounds, he was already painting a glorious picture of his future.

I'll deposit one million as the official fee... and what should I do with the remaining two million? Hehehe.

Just imagining it made him want to burst into laughter. If he combined that with the savings he had tucked away over the years, he could vanish abroad under the pretext of an extended vacation before anyone caught on. He had been growing sick and tired of this filthy underworld life anyway.

Even that freak won't be able to hunt me down across international borders.

"Are you finished?"

Erso's grin snapped off instantly.

He froze solid. Slowly, his neck creaking like rusted iron hinges, he turned his head—only to find the man standing right beside him.

How?

...This is impossible. I was followed? By someone trailing me?

He hadn't sensed a single whisper of movement. Crows were seasoned professionals who had undergone brutal, years-long training. They practiced shadowing targets and being shadowed in turn. He had evaded suspicious tails and spotted pursuers dozens of times in live operations. Yet how...

"Did you retrieve what I asked for?"

"Y-Yes. It is right here."

Trembling, Erso extended the original commission document. It bore the wax seals of both Red Shadow and Dakeus Altman, a binding contract meant to be kept in duplicate. While Dakeus had turned his back to drink his tea, Erso had deftly swapped it with a counterfeit.

"Authentic."

Ziel inspected the parchment and tucked it into his coat. The texture of the paper, the indentation of the ink, the signature impression—everything was unquestionably genuine.

"May I ask what you intend to do with that...? Ah, o-of course, you must have your reasons for needing it. I was just... curious..."

"I plan to handle it by the book."

"Pardon?"

The Crow stared, unable to comprehend the words.

By the book? If an assassin of his caliber handles it 'by the book'... does he mean he's going to use the paper as a weapon?

His imagination ran completely wild. Yet to an underworld operative, it was an entirely rational leap of logic. An old senior had once warned him: Never earn the grudge of a true professional. Those monsters can slaughter dozens with a single pencil and slit your throat with a sheet of paper.

He's terrifying. Absolutely terrifying...

Erso swallowed hard, his throat parched, and ventured cautiously, "Am... am I free to leave now?"

Thump-thump, thump-thump.

His heart hammered violently against his ribs as he awaited the verdict.

Dakeus won't notice the swap for a while. I poured my soul into forging that copy.

That was the very reason he had arrived late to Dakeus's office. This monster had commanded him to bring back definitive proof, forcing Erso to sweat blood as he fabricated a near-flawless counterfeit on the fly.

Once I get my hands on that three million, I'm crossing the border. Or maybe I can negotiate and offer this guy two million to spare my life...

Either way, all he needed was the coin, and he would be home free.

Just then, Ziel broke the silence.

"I have a question, Crow."

"P-Please, ask away."

"How much is a human life worth?"

The bizarre question made Erso's eyes widen.

The price of a life?

Before he could even begin to process the strange inquiry, Ziel spoke again.

"Is three million cels enough?"

"...!"

In an instant, the sheer terror from their first encounter rushed back like a tidal wave.

"I am asking because I genuinely do not know."

Ziel had asked in utter sincerity. He simply wondered whether three million cels was enough money to motivate someone to entertain betrayal under such precarious circumstances.

It must be an astronomical sum.

Every living creature prized its own life above all else. Even Ziel, who had lived stripped of human emotion, understood that fundamental truth. However, having spent his entire existence detached from ordinary society, he lacked a practical sense of economics and had no idea what a human life fetched on the open market. He had asked out of pure, literal curiosity.

Unfortunately—

I'm dead. I'm completely dead.

Erso began to shake violently from head to toe.

He had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠caught. The man had listened to every single word spoken in that room.

This guy is the real deal.

The dread spiking through Erso's chest made his previous panic look like child's play.

"P-Please spare my life!"

To think the monster had even overheard him extorting three million cels from Dakeus!

"Answer the question, Crow."

Was three million cels enough for a life? More than enough! In the back alleys of the capital, there were legions of cutthroats willing to butcher a man for thirty thousand cels, let alone three million!

No, that's not the answer he wants to hear.

There was only one thing he could say to survive.

"I am deeply sorry! Greed clouded my judgment!"

Yet Ziel remained completely unperturbed.

"That was not what I asked."

"..."

Backed into a corner, Erso gave a trembling nod. "...Three million cels... is more than enough."

"I see."

Ziel had learned something useful today: a human life was valued at approximately three million cels.

Furthermore, he had unintentionally secured another asset.

If I ever betray him, I won't just die—I'll be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠erased from existence.

He had gained the absolute, terror-stricken loyalty of a first-class Crow.

"Let me ask you one more thing, Crow."