Slum District 1
The count fell silent for a long moment. Even if he'd taken down an Executioner single-handedly, flipping the entire slum in one night? But one look at Licht's eyes forced him to reconsider. He meant it. He was dead serious about turning the whole slum upside down by himself. Anyone else saying it would've been brushed off as a joke, but there was something about the boy standing before him that made that impossible.
"Ha, haha!" Laughter bubbled up unbidden. "Haha! Wrap it up by tonight?"
"If Your Excellency truly set your mind to it, wouldn't it be entirely possible?"
Licht's words left Samuel at a loss. He simply laughed.
The Frederickson count's household boasted several high-ranking mages above the 5th Circle and elite knights at Sword Expert level. No matter how formidable this Simon might be, sealing the walls and launching a surprise all-out assault would surely net him. The problem was his position as lord of El Sion, which tied his hands.
With no hard evidence—just suspicion alone—to raze an entire lower district? And if they failed to secure clear proof afterward? The backlash would be unimaginable. Palenia Holy Kingdom could easily use it as a pretext for war. The area near the walls teemed with adventurers and tourists passing through El Sion; the city's reputation would plummet overnight.
But if it was just Licht, not the count? If he slipped in through a moment of carelessness and extracted the intel? That was the slum for you. A place where money trumped law, and fists trumped money.
The paper the count had handed over listed suspected underlings of Simon, along with their hideouts. Pinpointing his base wasn't impossible.
As his laughter subsided, the count continued. "I can't do it. What's the point of having the power if I can't wield it?"
"You could disguise your retainers and send them in secretly. It wouldn't be impossible."
"Those bastards are sharper than you think. Don't underestimate El Sion's slum information network. If they've got ties to the Holy Kingdom, it'll get even messier. The more I think about it, the more you're the perfect key."
From the count's perspective, it was a no-lose proposition. Success spoke for itself; failure wouldn't touch House Frederickson on the surface. Above all, he didn't believe Licht would fail.
"Heading out right now?"
"No reason to delay."
"Anything else you need?"
"The safety of my two attendants."
"Attendants? Ah, right."
Recalling their prior agreement, the count nodded slightly. "Still living together?"
"If you mean the multi-family residence in the middle district, yes."
"The lord's castle has plenty of rooms. If you wish, I'll treat you as an honored guest with every courtesy. If that's too much, I can assign a high mage to guard your current place. Wouldn't want to burden you."
For Licht—who didn't care if they had to serve as maids in the count's house, as long as they were safe—this was welcome news. As his officially acknowledged guest, they'd receive proper treatment. And if it felt awkward, a high mage would be attached. Licht knew full well the value of a 5th Circle or higher mage.
They'll probably find it burdensome.
Having spent their lives as servants, they'd be comfortable serving others but uneasy about the reverse. Life in the stuffy lord's castle, surrounded by strangers, would be far worse than their current home. Even Licht felt the area around their mansion was a fine place to live.
"If neither suits, I'll procure a house in the central district. Near the castle."
"Is that possible?"
"Compared to what you're about to do? It's nothing."
"The current place is bound by contract."
"I'll handle the details. You just choose."
Their current home was rented under a purchase agreement. 1,800 gold was pocket change to the count—no issue at all.
Licht didn't deliberate long. A central district spot near the castle put them right in the heart of El Sion. No need for extra guards.
He answered the count's question straightforwardly. "Then make it so. It won't take long. Tomorrow, or the day after. Guards start now."
At the count's order to the man behind him, the presence of a servant guarding the terrace vanished. Moments later, the servant returned with clothes for Licht to change into—wrapped around a sword.
Practical attire for mobility, complete with a hooded cloak to cover his body. It looked like common merchant garb from the shopping district at a glance, but the material was superior.
Once Licht had changed, the servant took his old uniform. The man standing behind let out a faint sound of admiration.
"Impressively honed physique. Nothing like the outward appearance—quite the surprise."
Licht pulled the hood low over his face in lieu of a reply and sheathed the Ascension Sword at his waist.
"Take care," the count said.
"Won't be long."
Licht turned, planted a foot on the terrace railing. The lord's castle sprawled below, El Sion's streets close enough to touch. He pushed off.
His black cloak billowed as his figure vanished from sight.
Silence hung over the terrace for a time. A chill night breeze swept the spot where the boy had stood moments before.
***
Leaving the lord's castle, Licht cut through the central district straight south. El Sion's lower district slum. To be precise, it was the blind spot between the walls and the middle district.
El Sion's sheer size had spawned it naturally. This magic city dwarfed even Alpen, capital of Arhen Kingdom, in scale alone. That was why even a count couldn't micromanage the slums.
Too vast to control fully. El Sion's leniency toward outsiders didn't help. Castaways banded together, forming clusters that grew into slums.
Paradoxically, the area right after the checkpoints near the walls had decent security—soldiers patrolled regularly.
Nothing's changed.
The acrid stench humming everywhere. Trash rolling in the streets. Scenes Licht had witnessed countless times as a mercenary. He'd crashed in slum inns when coin was short. There, he'd seen every stripe of humanity.
El Sion's slums were better off than most—no corpses littering the gutters. The buildings at least had some semblance of structure. Security, though, was another story.
Licht scanned his surroundings. The alley that had seemed fine moments ago was now stained with blood.
"Gah... ack!"
"Pierre Darsen. Where is he?"
The man whose throat Licht gripped wheezed. The bodies around them were all would-be ambushers who'd gotten the tables turned. No need to draw his sword. Mere slum thugs—ordinary folk without mana—stood no chance.
This was the last one standing.
"I... I don't know... Really, I don't... gack!"
Licht tightened his grip. The man's face turned purple as he choked.
Pierre Darsen. The count's paper listed not just Simon's profile but his underlings' too. Pierre was an info broker and lieutenant under Simon.
He should know the location.
As a lieutenant, he'd surely know Simon's whereabouts. Asking a low-level grunt directly would've been pointless. Had to climb the ladder step by step.
The issue was Pierre's branch location—it didn't match the paper. That's why Licht questioned this man, who might've seen something lurking around the info guild's outpost.
"Gah! Y-Yesterday... moved to Branch 3!"
At his limit, the man spat it out.
"Branch 3?"
Licht released his grip. Clutching his throat, the man gasped. "This is... kuh! Branch 4, so right next door."
"Why the sudden move?"
"They rotate branches periodically. Branch 4 was empty for that reason. In case tails get too close..."
Licht stared down at him wordlessly.
"Th-That's all I know... Everything I got. Please, believe me!"
His fallen comrades had long since breathed their last. This lucky survivor didn't want to join them. Trembling, he met Licht's eyes.
Licht turned away. The location was enough. A grunt like this had nothing more to give anyway.
"Y-You're sparing me?"
Color returned to the man's face as Licht walked off. But only for a moment.
Fwoosh!Splat!
A gust sliced through the alley. Crimson blood sprayed before his eyes.
"Ah...?"
A deflating groan escaped him. Glancing down, he saw his body shredded to ribbons. It crumpled like so much refuse.
A beat later, searing pain erupted across his form. Vomiting blood, he barely lifted his head. The black-hooded figure was long gone.
Soon, one more corpse joined the alley floor, breath stilled.
***
The slums sandwiched between the walls and middle district were larger than Licht expected. He'd been oblivious entering El Sion for Barte's faction headquarters—riding in a carriage.
The main road from the gates to the center was decent even in the lower district, with solid living standards and security. But this was deep lower district, far from the boulevards and walls. Twisting alleys outnumbered paved paths.
A quick Tempest spell to hop rooftops. Licht spotted the building.
Found it.
It blended with the low, shabby structures around it. But Licht sensed dozens of presences inside—extending underground, unlike the others.
He dropped straight down to the entrance.
Thud.
"Wha...?"
The doorkeeper gawked at the sudden arrival. Dark skin scarred across his face gleamed faintly in the moonlight. His bulk alone would make most shrink back.
Eyeing the deeply hooded Licht, he scowled.
Whoosh!
No warning—he swung a meaty fist. Thick fingers clenched tight, hurtling at Licht's face with impressive speed despite no mana. Raw power that no ordinary man could match.
"What the—"
Licht tilted his head back and seized the man's wrist.
Crunch.
Applying pressure, he twisted. Crack! Bone snapped; the man screamed.
"Aaaagh!"
The shriek echoed down the alley. Presences stirred inside the building.
Licht switched to the man's throat and kicked the door savagely.
Bang!
"......!"
Dim lights and acrid smoke billowed out. Men gambling with bottles on tables stared at the intruders.
Thud!
Licht slammed the choking doorkeeper into the floor. Crack! Splinters flew amid pooling blood.
A suffocating silence descended.
"Pierre Darsen."
A voice clear as crystal.
"Down below."
The boy murmured, gazing at the floor. Swords hissed from sheaths all around.
Shing! Shing! Shing!