Slum District 3
A young, clear voice pierced his ears. Amid the pain ripping through his right hand, his thoughts tangled into chaos. The sight before him had unfolded too abruptly to process.
A blood-soaked man leaned against the underground door, half-lidded eyes fixed on him. Before him lay the corpse of a man split nearly in two. The sword discarded to one side had long lost its blue glow.
It was unimaginable. He had died without even properly crossing blades. A Sword User swordsman, no less. And in a single strike.
Who the hell is he?
He wasn't on the ledger. That meant he wasn't one of the count's men. To begin with, there were no retainers in the Fredericksen family who wielded both sword and magic. And certainly no one with such a youthful voice who used a golden sword...
Wait.
One possibility flashed through his mind. An absurd one he hadn't even considered.
They said the winner of the Cherbito tournament had used a golden sword to kill the former Executioner who caused that mess. He wasn't from the count's side, but given his personality, he'd surely made contact multiple times—offering him a position under him or delegating full authority for this job. It lined up perfectly with the time the count abandoned the slum investigation.
No way.
His head rang for an instant before slamming back under the table.
Thud!
"Guhk!"
"Stop scheming and answer. Where is he?"
His vision shook. Pierre barely managed to speak.
"I don't know! I don't know, I swear! I don't know what you want, but I can answer most anything. No need to go that far. He never even tells us his location anyway, so why bother...?"
Whoosh.
A chill wind like before grazed the back of his hand. That eerie sensation sent the earlier pain crawling up his spine again.
This fucking...
"Don't even think about suicide."
Plop.
A packet of drugs hidden in his bosom fell to the floor. Suicide pills he'd stockpiled for emergencies. In this line of work, buying and selling info, unexpected shit happened all the time, so he'd prepared something for a painless end.
But now, even that was useless. Pierre knew better than anyone that sometimes living was worse than dying.
"I won't ask twice."
Licht yanked Pierre's hair. His head snapped back. Those blackened eyes brimmed with terror.
Pierre muttered excuses. "O-okay. Just let go for a sec. I need to send a message first... Ghk!"
Released, Pierre shook his head wildly. He rummaged under the table and pulled out a small magic stone. A communication tool made by splitting a single stone in half—one side sent a signal, the other received.
The moment Pierre tapped the green stone—
Crunch!
The Ascension Sword plunged between his fingers.
"Gaaaaah!"
Pierre screamed horrifically, just like before. His severed index, middle, and ring fingers rolled across the table, fresh from his hand.
Blood poured in streams. Licht ignored it and shoved the magic stone under the table. The green gem skittered across the floor.
Pierre clutched his mangled fingers, groaning. "Aaaagh, agh...!"
"No second chances. Next is your head."
"What the hell did I do...!"
But inwardly, Pierre reeled in shock. That green stone was for emergency comms. It looked like any old communication stone, but he'd spotted it instantly.
Fuck...
How?
No time to ponder. Pierre shut his mouth, meeting the boy's gaze. He knew those words weren't bluffing—they were dead serious. Next was his neck.
Without hesitation, he pulled a purple stone from under the table with his still-intact left hand—not the right, which had already lost three fingers. He tapped it rhythmically. The purple stone glowed briefly before fading.
Licht grabbed Pierre's hair and hauled him up. Stumbling to his feet, he whimpered.
"Do you really have to go this far? Huh? Let's just make it easy. You want info on the Holy Kingdom, right?"
"......"
"I can tell you everything you want, so stop here. Hell, I can swear it. Dragging in some small fry for revenge won't mean shit—you know that, I know that. Right?"
He spewed words desperately. Licht didn't respond.
An oath?
Ridiculous. Licht sneered inwardly. If he let him go now, he'd come after him for sure. The slum's ways didn't matter—what mattered was seeing it through once started. Above all, he had no guarantee Pierre even had the info he wanted. Even if he spilled something useful, it wouldn't change the goal: kill the one who murdered Simon.
Licht sheathed the Ascension Sword and shoved Pierre ahead. "Lead the way."
***
Plip, plip-plip, plip-plip-plip.
The full moon hid behind clouds. A drizzle had started over the slums that had been clear just moments ago. Under the faint patter of rain, Licht moved silently.
Pierre, forced to guide, trudged ahead. His right hand was wrapped in a makeshift bandage, blood still dripping through the soaked cloth.
"This is the right way, I swear..."
Pierre kept glancing back, muttering. Streetlamps dotted the slum avenue sparsely. Relying on their dim light, they wove through twisting alleys.
They'd walked nearly thirty minutes without reaching the destination. Licht's patience was wearing thin when Pierre suddenly stopped.
"Here. We don't have a fixed HQ... it changes periodically. We just moved here, so hardly anyone knows."
Between rundown alley walls, a staircase led underground. Pierre descended first. Licht watched him a moment, then followed.
A musty smell hung in the air. Though he couldn't see Pierre's face, Licht sensed his footsteps lighten.
Transparent as glass.
By all accounts, Simon was a Sword Expert knight of considerable skill. No matter that Licht had slain an Executioner alone, without seeing it, it wouldn't hit home. Simon, meanwhile, had tamed the slums with one arm. And this underground spot was his info guild's base.
Walking into the enemy's jaws. Since he hadn't died yet and was being led to base, he figured he was safe.
At the stairs' end, Pierre swiftly opened the door. A similar scene to before unfolded: tables scattered about, soft lights glowing above them. No bartender at the bar—instead, a man drank alone. No one else visible.
At least on the surface.
Five... no, six.
Faint presences from hidden corners. All lurking, awaiting a signal. No matter how well concealed, they couldn't evade Licht's senses.
He stood silently, betraying nothing. Pierre shouted as if on cue.
"Simon! It's this guy. He was sniffing around our backs—!"
Splat!
Blood erupted before Pierre. A hole gaped in his chest.
"Wha...?"
Blood bubbled from his gaping mouth. He toppled into the pooling blood.
The hidden men stirred, unable to mask their agitation.
Step, step.
Licht advanced past the freshly dead Pierre. The man at the bar looked weary.
Simon.
His right sleeve hung empty. A plain longsword hung at his waist.
As Licht stared, Simon downed his last drink and spoke.
"What do you want?"
"Information."
"On what, exactly?"
"Palenia Holy Kingdom. More precisely, the Cherbito semi-final terror attack and the mage kidnappings."
Licht sharpened his senses. Simon would have pieced it together from the exchange. He'd killed Pierre, an executive, for tailing them. Drawing steel now wouldn't be odd.
How will he play it?
Any wrong move, and Licht would strike. The Ascension Sword was ready.
But Simon silently refilled his empty glass. As it brimmed, he set the bottle aside.
"Info on the Holy Kingdom costs a fortune. This incident especially. Still want it?"
Simon extended his remaining hand. Licht narrowed his eyes.
What?
His intentions were unclear. If he'd collaborated with the Holy Kingdom on this, killing Licht to silence him made sense. He'd been poised to strike, yet Simon offered his hand.
"You didn't think you could just demand info without paying up front, did you?"
Simon smirked. Licht tossed a gold coin onto the bar.
"Not enough."
"......"
Licht dumped his entire pouch. Emergency funds for contingencies. Simon checked the contents and patted the seat beside him.
Whatever he's thinking...
He needed the info. Simon spoke once Licht sat.
"Palenia Holy Kingdom. Specifically, the Cherbito semi-final terror and mage kidnappings. Right?"
"......"
"You already suspect. The former Executioner was backed by the Holy Kingdom. So what you want is..."
Clink.
He set down his glass.
"...the reason behind it."
Ice clinked melodiously in the glass. After a pause, Simon continued.
"Do you know how many mages were kidnapped?"
"Three digits at least."
"Exactly 174. Seventy-three 3rd Circle mages, the rest 101 2nd Circle."
"All sacrifices?"
"Sacrifices... yeah. The Holy Kingdom has secret high rituals. Like... resurrection spells."
Licht stared silently. Then asked, "They did this to use a resurrection spell?"
"Reviving the dead is impossible without a price."
"The Pope?"
"The Pope, huh."
"The one who started it."
"Think a mere bishop could pull this off?"
"Who are they trying to revive?"
As Licht pressed, Simon chuckled dryly.
"The current Pope lost his wife long ago. Met her as a cardinal before conclave. Never took another, loved only her."
"Then..."
Licht frowned. Simon shrugged nonchalantly.
"What you're thinking. Stella Evgenia's mother. The former Saintess."
"Libre Prelude."
"......"
Silence blanketed the basement. Simon swirled his glass and sipped.
"The sacrifices aren't just the kidnapped mages. Stella Evgenia herself is included."
"Using his own daughter as a sacrifice."
"They're hunting the missing mages, right? Good luck. Even if you find some, it'll be a handful. They're scattered, not all in the Holy Kingdom."
"Where?"
"Neighboring nations with dioceses everywhere. The kidnapped mages are under archbishops' direct watch. Local bishops are tight with the lords. Even if they gather for the ritual..."
Simon set down his empty glass.
"What, you gonna scour the entire southern continent and start a war? Barbalte brat."
Licht gazed at the bar top. He'd known his identity from the start.
Then why spill so easily?
If he knew who Licht was, he could've killed him without a word. But Simon hadn't. Almost like he was leaking it on purpose.
He resents them.
If it wasn't willing collusion but forced intel handover, it made sense. Licht recalled the Holy Kingdom remnants exploding to death.
Definitely.
Their bodies had burst, fragments melting away. He remembered it all.
Licht looked up. The six hidden men now encircled them. Simon gazed down from the center.
"I said it before. Holy Kingdom info is pricey."
"......"
"Fifty gold doesn't cover it."
"Not enough."
"Right. And the shortfall..."
Shing!
A cold blade slid free under the dim light. Perfect stance, no wasted motion—natural left-hander.
"...you'll pay with your neck."
As the words ended, blue aura surged along his blade tip. The six others drew simultaneously, their swords cloaked in matching blue energy.