You All Die Here
"……What?"
Pormanker let out a hollow laugh as he looked at his subordinate.
"So that bitch has finally lost her mind. All she's got going for her is a pretty face, and I kept her around out of pity."
Pormanker rose from his seat. The pressure rolling off his heavy frame made the subordinate who had delivered the report take an involuntary step back.
"Julan. Heirquan."
"Yes, Master."
"Yes, Boss."
At Pormanker's summons, Julan and Heirquan stepped forward from either side of him. Julan was lean and short, but the sharp slant of his eyes and thin lips gave him a distinctly cutting look. Heirquan, by contrast, stood a full head taller than even Pormanker, and his bulk was considerable. They looked like polar opposites, yet the two of them were the strongest fighters Shadow Fang possessed. Both could wield mana, and both stood at a level approaching two-star.
The only reason men like that followed Pormanker was money and treatment. In the filthy back alleys, they had become kings. Drink, women, gambling — more than a hundred thugs moved at a single word from them, and it was Pormanker who kept that power in their hands. They had no choice but to stay loyal.
And now Shadow Fang stood at a major crossroads, locked in a war over who would seize the chance to latch onto greater power and grow even stronger.
"Give that bitch exactly what she wants. Crush her properly…… and then do whatever you like with her before you kill her."
"Heh heh heh heh. Whatever we like, you say?"
Heirquan, who had always been notoriously lustful, asked with a lecherous grin. Pormanker nodded.
"But you will kill her. Once you've had your fun, cut off her head and bring it to me."
A surprising number of people still followed a woman with no outstanding abilities of her own. Only by killing Lisiven cleanly could that entire faction become his without question.
And once that happens……
He intended to take the newly unified Shadow Fang and attach himself properly to the lord of Almers. With the quiet war of nerves between the North and the Center still ongoing, how one chose sides would decide the course of a man's entire life.
Pormanker could not keep the smile off his face. The long, grinding standoff was finally about to end — or so he believed. She would have some card of her own, of course.
I don't know what she's thinking……
But in these back alleys, no one could beat Julan and Heirquan. And there had been no word of any outsider arriving. Whatever she had prepared would mean nothing.
Watching Julan and Heirquan move out, Pormanker turned to the subordinate still standing beside him.
"Send word to Baron Asran. Tell him I request a discreet audience."
"Understood."
Once the subordinate had left, Pormanker was alone. He rolled his shoulders, already lost in rosy visions of the future.
Until now Lisiven had only resisted indirectly. This time she had issued an open challenge to Pormanker. Naturally, those who followed her were shocked and pushed back hard.
"It's too dangerous. None of us can beat Julan and Heirquan."
"If the factions clash head-on it'll be even worse. Pormanker's guild members outnumber ours by a wide margin……"
"Vice-Master, this is far too risky."
Her inner circle tried to talk her down.
"Why don't we just break away right now and form our own guild? Wouldn't that be better?"
Milo, the youngest in the guild, looked at Lisiven almost pleadingly. He could not shake the fear that the note he had delivered was what had driven her to this decision, and the thought weighed heavily on him.
But—
"If this drags on any longer…… all of you will get hurt. We need to…… end it here."
Lisiven's voice was firm. Just as she said, the longer the conflict continued, the more it was her own guild members who were wounded or killed. From Pormanker's perspective, absorbing her entire faction would have been ideal — but sacrifice was inevitable along the way. That was why he had been ruthlessly murdering every guild member who refused his persuasion.
Lisiven had already been preparing herself for a decisive move when she met Arteon.
Then Keiton, who served as her right hand, spoke up.
"But Master…… can we really trust that man?"
"……"
Lisiven fell silent at the question. Arteon's image flashed through her mind. It had only been a fleeting moment, but the killing intent he had unleashed was unreal. She had seen countless dangers and countless people in the back alleys.
Not a single one of them ever gave off killing intent like that.
For a brief instant she had wondered whether a human being was even capable of producing such a thing. And the way he handled mana with such effortless skill made it impossible to guess how strong he truly was.
The only real question was why he was helping her at all—
—From now on, comrades who fill in what the other needs…… something like that?
The words had been so unexpected that they still barely felt real. But with her guild members continuing to die around her, Lisiven was in no position to be picky. Besides…… while he moved, they had their own work to do.
"Call every guild member. We have…… our own part to play."
"……Will it be all right?"
"If we fail this time, things will get much harder from here on. We have to…… settle it here."
Lisiven knew it too. This was the most critical moment — and perhaps their last chance.
Her inner circle nodded.
"Understood."
"I'll summon everyone."
The atmosphere shifted at once. No one could guarantee how the suddenly appeared boy would hold the line, but even failure would yield something of value. And yet—
If we succeed……
Just as he had said, a single fight could end the vicious conflict that had ground on for so long.
As Lisiven moved out with her guild members, her eyes were colder and more serious than they had ever been.
The sun had set over the city, and deeper shadows settled across the back alleys. A deathly quiet closed in like a noose; the only sounds that broke it were the occasional creak of a window frame and the thin squeaking of rats.
A cold stillness lay over everything. Then two shadows cut through that darkness, approaching each other from opposite ends of the street.
"What the—? That's not Lisiven."
"Is that fox bitch pulling another trick?"
Julan and Heirquan frowned at the boy who had appeared at the meeting place. They had assumed Lisiven had laid a trap and come fully prepared.
"Who the hell are you?"
"You got a death wish, showing up here?"
Julan and Heirquan growled threats at the boy in front of them. But—
"I figured I'd only have to deal with the two of you…… Looks like there are more than I expected."
Even a rough count put the number of men hidden in the dark at well over fifty. Arteon gave the spear in his hand a light twirl. There was no need to bring out Iglis. Any ordinary spear from a marketplace smithy would be more than enough.
Julan and Heirquan frowned at his tone. Judging by this brat's attitude—
"So you're the one that bitch is counting on."
"……Kid's out of his damn mind."
Julan drew the blade at his waist. He had no idea why the boy had sided with Lisiven, but he intended to make him regret the choice.
"I'll cut off your head and hang it in the middle of the alley. You'll wish you'd never come out here alone."
As Julan stepped forward, Heirquan smirked behind him, eyes fixed on Arteon. The spear was a little unusual, but that changed nothing.
"Julan, finish him quick so we can get back. There's no way, but if a green brat came alone like this, it might mean they've got something else cooki—"
Boom!
Heirquan never finished the sentence. The boy in front of them suddenly drove hard off the ground—
Fwit!
—and vanished from sight in an instant.
"……!"
Julan, who had been closing in on Arteon, flinched and whipped his head around. Where did he go?
Finding him was not difficult.
"Ghk……"
A wet, rattling choke sounded from behind him. Julan's gaze snapped toward it — and what he saw was impossible to believe.
"Hei—Heirquaaaaaan!"
Julan screamed. The boy who had been standing right in front of them a heartbeat ago had driven his spear straight through Heirquan's throat. It had happened in a single breath — too fast even to react.
"E-everyone, get out heeeeere!"
Julan leapt backward, putting distance between himself and Arteon. At his shout, every hidden subordinate burst from cover — only to freeze at the sight of Heirquan crumpled on the ground, their faces twisted with shock.
"H-Heirquan, sir!"
"What the hell……!"
"Heirquan-nim is……"
It must have been staggering. Even a dozen of them together would have struggled against Heirquan alone; the gap in strength had been that wide.
Arteon yanked the spear free from the giant's neck and swept his eyes across the surroundings.
Roughly…… fifty men and one two-star level fighter……
Even for Arteon, facing two two-star opponents at once would not have been easy. That was why he had needed to kill one of them in the opening instant, while they were still off guard. If that opening strike had failed, he would have been taking on a far greater risk.
But—
"Back-alley types never change. Always inflating their own ranks."
Arteon rested the spear casually across his shoulder and looked at Julan. These men…… were trash who did not even deserve a proper rank. Julan, and the Heirquan who had just died. They might be able to handle mana, but at best they had barely scraped past one-star.
Arteon locked eyes with Julan. Julan flinched without meaning to and took a step back.
Gulp.
W-what kind of look is that from a damn kid……
Cold sweat ran down Julan's spine. Even in these brutal back alleys, he had never seen eyes that poured out killing intent so thick. It felt as though some enormous beast had bared its claws right in front of him.
But—
"What are you waiting for?! Kill that bastard!"
At Julan's shout, the thief guild's thugs who had surrounded them charged at Arteon.
"Die, you little shit!"
"You think you can come here alone?!"
"We'll avenge Heirquan-nim!"
Their eyes were wild with rage over the giant's death. Arteon's gaze cooled to ice. One look at the way they charged was enough.
Trash that don't even deserve a rank.
Shhhk! Thud!
Arteon's spear shot forward in a straight line and punched clean through one thug's chest. The man died without even managing a scream.
Thud.
That was only the beginning.
Whoosh! Slash!
Retrieving the spear, Arteon immediately hooked the next man's leg and sent him sprawling, then swept the weapon in a wide horizontal arc.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
"Gah!"
"Aaaagh!"
"Urgh!"
Three more men crumpled in succession, and Arteon's spear stole their lives without mercy. In the space of a breath, four thugs were dead.
The survivors froze in place, staring at Arteon, locked solid with terror. A mind-breaking fear — as if some demon were seeping out of the darkness itself and swallowing everything around them.
And from within that crushing dread, the boy raised his spear and spoke as if delivering a verdict.
"Every last one of you dies here."