Chapter 102: Night of Purgation (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 102: Night of Purgation (1)
Once the situation was more or less sorted out, it didn't take long to finish preparing.
Once the Sword Emperor confirmed my intention to join them, he agreed to let me tag along without saying much.
Medea, who had initially opposed the idea with absolute certainty, saw the firm look in my eyes and gave a reluctant nod.
Her face was full of disapproval, but there was no more time to waste.
While everyone was busy getting ready, Weapon, who had been standing around awkwardly by himself, approached me.
"...Manager, are you really going?"
For the record, Weapon was naturally excluded from this operation. Although his extraordinary intellect and healing abilities would have made him a great asset, he was only a seventeen-year-old boy.
A bloodbath was about to unfold, and I couldn't bring a minor like Weapon along.
...Well, technically, I was also in the prime of my youth... but since my inner self was already pushing forty, I was an exception.
I looked straight into Weapon's eyes. His gaze was a swirling mix of various emotions.
I owed him a lot today. He had explained the recent events to the three giants on my behalf.
Even though he must have felt frustrated by my absurd excuses, he hadn't complained once. And now, at the very end, even in this grim situation where heads were about to roll, Weapon was worrying about me first. I felt something deeper than mere gratitude toward him.
With a calm, steady gaze, I placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait here. I'll finish this quickly and be right back."
"……."
Weapon's face was clouded with worry. I patted his shoulder in silence and walked past him. Just as the office door was halfway open—
"Kang Geomma!"
Weapon called out, stopping me in my tracks.
"...I know you won't, but don't come back hurt. Saki is already hospitalized, and if you end up in a hospital bed too, it'll be too hard on me alone!"
"……."
His voice trembled slightly.
Without turning back, I kept walking.
* * *
Inside an abandoned building so old that the paint was peeling off the walls.
People with hoods pulled low over their faces began to gather one by one.
Their eyes were hidden in the shadows, but their mouths were uniformly twisted in scowls.
"Fuck's sake, how easy does that bastard Professor think we are to send us a text like this?!"
A man shouted fiercely. He stomped his foot violently, as if trying to shatter the floor. It was all because of the text message displayed on his phone screen.
* * *
〈☆ Letter of Fortune ★〉
This letter originated in Maple Country and has traveled around the world once a year, bringing good luck to its recipients. Now, having fulfilled its purpose, it has reached its final recipient. A great misfortune will befall you, the recipient of this letter, tomorrow at 16:30.
·
·
·
By. Pr0f3$$or
* * *
It was a dog-shit message that wasn't even worth a snort of derision.
However, because the sender written in code was The Professor, they had no choice but to show up, despite their boiling rage.
"That son of a bitch. I can't take this anymore. He completely thinks of us as pushovers. We need to sort out the hierarchy once and for all, fuck."
At the man's aggressive reaction, a woman leaning against the wall sneered.
"Pfft, look who's talking. You got scared by a text and came running like a good little dog."
"Who said I was scared?!"
"I think The Professor is an annoying prick too. But what can we do? Even if he's a prick, when he tells us to jump, we jump."
The woman shrugged and crossed her arms again.
The man glared at her, his mouth twisting. Chewing on the curses swirling in his mouth, he looked around.
There were only five people gathered. Perhaps because of the small crowd, the damp, musty smell of mold in the air felt more unpleasant than usual.
Feeling a sudden chill, the man spat out, "But why are there only five of us? Usually, when he calls, everyone shows up, right?"
"……."
At his words, the others only wore strange expressions.
That was a question for them as well. Even if there were occasionally one or two absentees, they had never gathered in such a small group before.
Even if The Professor wanted to arrange a secret meeting, summoning them with such a trashy text? That was also a first.
As time passed, doubts piled up, and the subtle sense of unease gradually transformed into a stark feeling of wrongness.
'Something is wrong.'
Not just the man, but the others also instinctively sensed that something was amiss. Vigilance flickered in their eyes as they scanned one another.
As if by unspoken agreement, the villains narrowed their eyes.
"……."
Silence fell.
No words were exchanged, but they were all ready to snap their fingers at one another at a moment's notice.
Clack— clack—
At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from the direction of the entrance.
The sharp gazes that had been directed at each other instantly whipped toward the door. Their eyes gleamed sinisterly in the pitch-black darkness.
'I don't feel any magic power.'
Despite their senses being heightened by the tense atmosphere, no magic power could be detected.
An outsider? But this was a place used exclusively by villains, and it was located too far on the edge of the property for anyone to stumble upon it by chance at this late hour.
'Then who is it?'
The man frowned and stared past the doorway. Just then, a mysterious woman's voice drifted from where his gaze was fixed.
"Geez, how did these punks find a place even I didn't know about? Did you know about this place, Zieg?"
It was a somewhat familiar female voice.
Just as they tilted their heads, wondering who it could be, the owner of the voice stepped into view.
At that exact moment, everyone's eyes widened to their absolute limits.
The man blinked, his voice instantly trembling.
"Th-The Academy Principal...!?"
At Medea's appearance, the man's pupils dilated wildly.
Eventually, the man pointed a finger, spitting as he yelled.
"W-What? Why is Medea here?!"
Medea stepped fully into the light. Breaking the silence, she spoke.
"Hello, trash."
"You bitch!"
The man spat out a curse as if having a fit and immediately channeled his magic power. The others, snapping out of their daze, quickly followed suit and began casting.
Countless questions floated in their minds, but their opponent was who she was. They were in no position to hesitate.
'The Sage, Medea.'
Though she disguised herself in the beautiful appearance of a woman in her twenties, she was a battle-hardened veteran who had seen it all. And she was the only hero among the Seven Stars whose position was undefined. The reason for that was—
Vroooom—!
While they gathered their magic power, Medea turned back nonchalantly and shouted.
"Hey! Zieg! Hurry up!"
As soon as she finished speaking, a new figure emerging behind Medea's back replied.
"The stench of trash was so foul that I stepped back for a moment."
"Hey, are you seriously acting like a neat freak at a time like this?!"
Finally, the old man fully revealed himself. The villains stared at him in utter dismay, their mouths agape.
A man with white hair that shone pure silver in the moonlight, and golden eyes that blazed like the sun.
"Th-The Sword Emperor?"
The man stammered. Some of them rubbed their eyes mid-cast, doubting their own sight.
The Sword Emperor stood beside Medea. Pinching his nose, he scanned the interior and frowned.
"There is less trash here than I expected."
"I know, right? If I'd known, I would've just come alone. Or, Zieg, do you want to go join Geomma's group instead?"
"No, thank you. Let's just clean this up quickly and join them together."
Despite the ominous resonance of magic power, only the friendly chatter of the two echoed against the concrete walls. It was as if the villains didn't even exist to them.
'These bastards are completely ignoring us.'
But thanks to that, the man had gathered more than enough magic power. A sneer formed on his lips as he felt the heavy magic power pooling in his fingertips.
In an instant, he rapidly restructured the magic power, channeled it to his fingertips, and—
Snap!
He snapped his fingers.
Ssssshh—
A wind carrying the fishy smell of water blew through.
Immediately, water bubbles frothed in midair, quickly shaping themselves into clusters of water spikes.
This was an ability personally bestowed upon him by his lord, the 3rd Corps Commander. It looked like simple water-attribute magic, but it was laced with deadly poison.
The man thought to himself. Their opponents were two of the Seven Stars. One was the Sword Emperor, hailed as the strongest of humanity, and the other was the Sage, Medea, the most avoided figure among villains.
Even with five villains present, normally they wouldn't stand a chance.
But if the five of them coordinated perfectly, who was to say they couldn't kill them? Medea had retired from the front lines nearly forty years ago, and the Sword Emperor was missing an arm.
'We'll catch them off guard and kill them.'
Using the moisture in the air as a medium, the man transmitted his voice to the other villains.
- I'll take the front. You four, unleash your attacks from the left, right, top, and bottom. No matter how strong the Seven Stars are, they won't survive a wide-range onslaught.
The others nodded silently at his message. Although they didn't appreciate his commanding tone, his plan was sound.
Just then, Medea abruptly stopped talking and slowly turned her head to stare intently at the man. Tilting her head sharply, she spoke.
"Did you really think... I wouldn't know?"
"……!"
A sudden shiver ran down the man's spine. True to her title as the Sage, her gaze felt as if it were piercing right through his innermost thoughts. Feeling sweat pool in his palms, the man let out a desperate roar.
"Die!"
Just before he could fire the dozens of water spikes—
"Sigh, do you guys take classes on how to say lines like that? Why is it always so cliché?"
Medea shook her head, then took a massive step forward.
Whoosh!
Instantly, her green hair fluttered slowly across the man's retinas.
She was clearly ten meters away just a second ago, so how...?
Before the question could even fully form in his mind, a heavy pressure slammed into him from the left.
Crack!
And before anyone knew it, Medea was standing right in the middle of the enemy formation, slamming the man into the ground with one hand. His head was driven straight into the floor.
He hadn't let his guard down, nor had he been caught off guard. Yet, without being able to offer a shred of resistance, everything above his shoulders was buried in the concrete floor.
She took a short breath and raised her fist high. As a massive aura gathered in her clenched hand, her fist slammed down onto the back of the man's head.
Creeeack— The floor cracked like a spiderweb.
Thud!
The sound of something hard shattering echoed.
The villains stared blankly at the scene. One of them muttered, breaking out in a cold sweat.
"Th-The Tyrant...!"
—Medea's other title, whispered from mouth to mouth.
The reason she had no defined position was because she was so overwhelmingly strong that her power couldn't be categorized. The Sword Emperor sighed and shook his head.
"Medea, you really don't know the meaning of moderation."
From the swirling cloud of dust, Medea slowly straightened her knees and stood up. Then, with eyes as cold as ice, she spoke.
"Next."
Terror rapidly flooded the villains' faces.
The Tyrant had returned.
* * *
As the entrance to Cladi's annex came into view, Al'tair suddenly spoke to me.
"Kang Geomma, you are a truly peculiar young man."
At his sudden remark, I looked at Al'tair with a dazed expression. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes remained expressionless.
Perhaps because he was fundamentally an assassin, he was an old man whose emotions were incredibly difficult to read. The only thing I could faintly sense was the absence of hostility or malice.
Al'tair turned his gaze forward again and spoke.
"It's nothing to boast about, but given my profession, I'm quite good at reading people's thoughts. As I approach seventy, my body may be aging, but my perception has only grown sharper. Yet, quite amusingly, you are the only one, Kang Geomma, whom I cannot read at all—neither what kind of person you are, nor what you are thinking."
"……."
"Yes, that gaze. Those eyes that, for the first time in my life, made this old body tremble with fear. Black pupils from which all emotion, thought, and humanity have been carved out, like a single blade."
Al'tair tilted his head back and looked up at the night sky. After staring at it with hollow eyes for a long moment, he lowered his head and turned toward me.
Al'tair opened his eyes wide with determination and asked.
"...Do you know the criterion that distinguishes a human from a monster?"
"……."
As I stood dazed for a few seconds, wondering what kind of question that was, Al'tair let out a faint chuckle and continued.
"A monster believes itself to be an ordinary human."
A sudden Zen riddle. I tilted my head.
"What does that have to do with our current situation?"
Al'tair's red eyes swept over me. Then, with a firm expression, he spoke as if driving in a nail.
"Do not become a monster."
Having said that, Al'tair stared straight ahead once more. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, casting the world into darkness.
Al'tair whistled. Almost instantly, the air currents seemed to shift artificially.
Swish— swish— swish—
Swish— swish— swish—
Out of the darkness, human-shaped shadows emerged simultaneously.
Every single one of them wore dull black clothes, their eyes glowing with a crimson light. They were the elite assassins, handpicked from the Auditore family.
'...What? He's here too?'
One person among them particularly caught my eye. Although his entire face was covered, leaving only his eyes visible, I could tell it was Nox.
Since he was hailed as the prodigy of the Auditore family, it made sense that Nox had joined as well. When our eyes met, he quickly looked away. I didn't bother to acknowledge him either.
Thud
"Auditore."
At that moment, Al'tair struck the ground with his cane. As if they had been waiting for this signal, the assassins drew their weapons. I marveled inwardly at their perfectly synchronized, dance-like movements.
The cold ring of steel echoed from various types of blades. As the sound faded, Al'tair gestured toward me with his chin and spoke calmly.