Chapter 262: The Terror Live (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 262: The Terror Live (1)
Speed Weapon, who loved to explain things.
"..."
He was currently having a miserable time.
Chilling.
A dagger flew straight into his chest.
Weapon was currently pressing his champagne glass (filled with orange juice) against his lips, rolling his eyes back and forth nervously.
This is driving me crazy.
Having come all the way to the grand finale of the festival—the banquet hall—only to spend his time treading on eggshells, or to put it bluntly, keeping his trap shut, his situation felt utterly pitiful.
I really want to chatter away...
But he had no choice. If he were to so much as clear his throat or cough here...
Who was that?
Who made a coughing sound?
I asked who made that coughing sound!
...he felt like someone would yell that and shove a blade down his throat.
Who? Those two over there shooting sparks from their eyes—Abel and Ryozo.
Today, Abel was dressed in a radiant gown, her beauty enhanced by subtle makeup.
He had heard through the grapevine that she had summoned her main estate's maid all the way from Switzerland to Korea just for this ball.
So the woman standing next to Abel is Shail, the maid of the Nibelung family.
Shail was a famous hero. Despite coming from the special admission class, she had become the youngest senior hero ever. She was the darling of the hero world, projected to reach Warrior rank within five years.
Considering that she had no inherited unique blessing due to her special admission background, her talent was truly monstrous. In terms of pure talent, she might even surpass All Mute.
And the butler standing behind her...
Rakshasa Karon.
That middle-aged man with the gentle, smiling eyes was once a legendary hitman.
His targets were strictly limited to heroes. In short, he was a hero who specialized in hunting heroes.
Then, at some point, he vanished without a trace, only to suddenly reappear as a butler for the Nibelung family.
At the time, the hero world argued that Karon had to be taken into custody, but the Sword Emperor declared that he would take full responsibility for him!
—A legendary tale of chivalry that was guaranteed to make any man's blood surge with excitement.
To use someone like Shail as a makeup artist, and Karon as a servant pouring juice...
Weapon shook his head. Sipping his tart juice, he stole a glance at Abel.
Abel's looks were already eye-catching to begin with.
But today, she looked as if she were determined to spread lovesickness among the young men like a plague.
In fact, more than half of the male students in the hall were staring at her openly.
Look at those guys, juice spilling out of their mouths like waterfalls.
However, whenever their eyes accidentally met the Rakshasa's, they flinched and jerked their gazes away in terror.
At that pathetic sight, Weapon clicked his tongue. He then turned his gaze away from Abel to the side.
An elegant traditional Japanese outfit. Neatly styled hime-cut hair. Her usually sharp eyes were slightly softened with makeup, exuding the refined aura of a highborn young lady.
Saki Ryozo.
She was equally formidable. She was splitting the attention that originally would have been focused solely on Abel evenly in half.
I know they say a woman's transformation is blameless, but can a person really change that much?
Yet on second thought, he could understand. Weapon had known for a long time why they were putting so much effort into dressing up.
Because they want to look good for the Department Head.
Weapon had noticed the two girls' feelings long ago. He was likely the only one within Heaven Class who had.
It wasn't that he was extraordinarily sharp; rather, the others were ridiculously dense.
Chloe was born an assassin so she couldn't be helped, and Rachel was a muscle-brain who was utterly clueless in those matters.
And as for Hontail and Leon, they just aren't interested in others to begin with.
So, being the relatively normal one, he was the only one capable of empathizing with Ryozo and Abel.
Of course, it was partly thanks to Ryozo and Abel's tearful, persistent efforts to hide their true feelings.
However, that level of disguise wasn't enough to deceive the eyes of a normal person like him.
Frankly, it was painfully obvious.
Though at this point, it doesn't even seem like they're trying to hide it.
Weapon let out a sigh. Feeling a sudden dry spell in his throat, he chugged down his orange juice.
"What can you do, girls? You fell for a dense guy. Just consider it your karma," Weapon muttered bitterly after downing the sweet drink. Regardless, the two were his friends.
Quietly cheering on their struggles as they became rivals in love—that was the best Weapon could do for them.
"Come to think of it, I don't see Leon."
If Leon were here, his presence would have made the ball's splendor shine even brighter.
"Well, I guess he has other business."
Attendance at the ball was voluntary. Unless someone held an essential role like the Department Head, it was a recommendation, not a requirement.
Thus, quite a few students chose not to attend. Many found such events tacky, while others had financial reasons.
From the attire to the grooming expenses, it does cost a pretty penny.
Considering how much attention Leon usually commanded, Weapon had assumed he would naturally attend, so his absence was slightly puzzling.
Having finished his juice, Weapon moved to grab another glass.
And at that moment, his brow furrowed. He had spotted a waiter acting suspiciously.
The waiter was standing with his back turned at a beverage stall, mixing a pink powder into the drinks. Since the stall was situated in a quiet corner, nobody was watching him.
Grab.
Approaching silently, Weapon grabbed the waiter's shoulder. Glaring intently, he spoke:
"What are you doing right now?"
The waiter startled violently. As the man stammered, Weapon pressed him in an overbearing tone.
"Speak up. What is that powder you're pouring into the drink?"
Faced with relentless questioning, the waiter tightly squeezed his eyes shut. Then, pulling a dagger from his inner pocket, he launched a surprise attack at Weapon.
"...Wh-what!"
The one caught off guard was the waiter who had stabbed him. This was because Weapon had caught the sharp blade directly with his palm.
In noir films, characters often move around fine even after being stabbed dozens of times. But that was mere fiction. In reality, a person would freeze up from a mere graze of a blade. Because the mind froze, the body would shrink back. Even if one managed to move, panic set in, making them easy to subdue.
That was why the waiter, a seasoned (self-proclaimed) infiltrator, had thrust his blade without bothering to make excuses. If he dealt with this quietly, he could clean up the aftermath somehow.
That was the waiter's little scheme to ensure today's grand plan proceeded without a hitch.
That was how it was supposed to go.
Yet, Weapon merely knitted his brows slightly. Despite getting stabbed, he didn't groan in pain or freeze up. Having died countless agonizing deaths in Heaven Class training, he had developed a tolerance to pain and fear.
"Stings a bit compared to the subspace, though."
Weapon clamped his pierced palm down, gripping the waiter's hand tightly. Instantly releasing his uninjured right fist, he struck the waiter square in the jaw.
Thwack!
Taking a direct counter, the waiter collapsed limply on the spot. His right hand, which held the dagger, traced an arc upward, held fast in Weapon's grip.
Before even pulling out the dagger penetrating his palm, Weapon tried to shout to the crowd. Because it had happened in a split second, attention hadn't gathered yet.
"Uh, w-what..."
The next instant, Weapon's body wobbled. It was entirely beyond his control. Darkness gradually nibbled away at his unfocused vision. The light faded from his pupils. Immediately after, his forehead slammed limply onto the floor. Behind him, a sharp crunch echoed as his nose broke.
Corners everywhere are cognitive blind spots. Consequently, little attention was paid to his direction. A few people glanced over, but they simply laughed it off, assuming he was drunk. After all, there were others besides Weapon leaning against the walls.
"R-run..."
Weapon squeezed out whatever strength he had left to choke out the warning. Yet his voice failed to reach the hall. Soon, accompanied by quiet, rhythmic breathing, his eyelids closed.
* * *
"My Lady."
Shail lightly patted Abel's shoulder.
Abel, who had been locked in a staring contest with Ryozo, turned her gaze toward Shail.
"Hmm? What is it?"
Shail raised her index finger and pointed to a secluded corner.
"Well, it appears that your friend is sprawled out over there."
Abel squinted as she looked in the same direction. She caught sight of the crown of Weapon's head slumping against the floor.
"...Why is he like that?"
Just then, middle-aged men holding wine glasses began to stagger. They shook their heads side to side or blinked their heavy eyes.
"What's this? I only had one glass... Is the alcohol hitting me already...?"
As their gazes grew hazy, their bodies collapsed. Weakened knees gave out, and the glass tumblers in their hands shattered against the stone floor one after another.
In a sudden turn of events, more than half of the guests swooned, the whites of their eyes showing.
Because the disturbance erupted in an instant, everyone was slow to act, unable to react immediately.
Taking advantage of the confusion, the waiters simultaneously covered the lower halves of their faces with handkerchiefs. Pulling daggers from their cloaks and sleeves, they closed in.
Shail narrowed her eyes. Judging by their concealed presences and footwork, they were no ordinary foes. Moreover, their numbers were vast.
Roughly forty.
As luck would have it, the combat-capable personnel had consumed the drinks and were barely holding themselves up, staggering precariously. Relying on their support immediately seemed out of the question.
Immediately, Shail locked eyes with Karon, and they promptly exchanged questions.
"Did you drink anything, Lord Karon?"
"Just a sip. It won't hinder my fighting, so do not worry."
"As if I would worry about you, Lord Karon. By the way, is that poison lethal?"
"Unlikely. In my experience, there is no poison that can kill outright with just a few sips. Usually, it requires heavy exposure. At most, it is likely a potent sleeping agent."
The moment Karon confirmed it, Shail immediately checked on Abel, who was standing behind them.
Abel went pale for a brief moment, then thrust her fingers deep into her mouth to press the back of her tongue, gagging up the contents of her stomach in a sudden heave.
"Damn it."
Abel wiped the stomach acid from around her mouth and chin with the back of her hand. Then, she immediately grabbed her sword leaning against the wall.
The butler and the maid looked at their young mistress with wide eyes. It had taken her mere seconds to regain her composure, executing a swift, decisive move.
"Don't tell me to run or anything like that. Outside those doors is probably even more chaotic."
That was Abel's declaration as she shook off her scabbard. After a brief moment of stunned silence, Shail and Karon smiled softly and turned their heads toward the front.
"You have grown quite a lot, My Lady."
"Indeed. At this rate, I might end up losing my job."
"It's about time you retired anyway, Lord Karon."
Shail drew a long stiletto spike from her holster and aimed it at the enemies.
"As for me, I intend to lay my bones to rest in the Nibelung family."
"Ho-ho. I plan to serve until the baby born between the Heavenly Sword and My Lady graduates from this academy."
"Then I shall serve all the way until My Lady's granddaughter graduates."
Meanwhile, the waiters lunged forward, thrusting their daggers.
Karon lazily scanned the enemies rushing in like a swarm.
"These so-called waiters lack even the basics."
Karon slipped gloves onto both hands and flicked his fingers.
"Allow me to teach you the basics from scratch."
At that moment, the leaping waiters suddenly jerked to a halt, as if caught on something.
Spurt!
A mist of blood burst open. In midair, amid flying flesh and fresh blood, silver wires floated like streams of water.
"Make good use of it in the afterlife."
A monocle glinted through the loose silver net. Beneath it, a fierce smile made the waiters gasp in horror.