Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Dragon Slayer
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The black-masked man panicked.
He had clearly struck the back of the target's head with a pouch packed full of iron balls. How could anyone withstand that without collapsing?
'Did I miss? No way. Impossible.'
He had killed dozens, hundreds, even thousands of people with this weapon before.
He had felt the solid impact on flesh—heavy and unmistakable.
The only explanation for the target surviving was sheer luck.
This had enough destructive power to instantly kill small monsters, and even those tough orcs couldn't regain their senses after taking a hit from the pouch.
'...Are the Stranges born with heads made of stone or something?'
The black-masked man had no idea how Berddin had endured the blow.
He would be shocked later when he learned the truth.
In that split second lasting less than a breath, Berddin had sensed the danger and wrapped his body in aura.
"Why... why aren't you dead? You little shit!"
Shhk—
The black-masked man drew his sword.
If the blunt weapon didn't work, he'd just slice him open. Simple as that.
But he had no clue why the kid in front of him was smiling at the corner of his mouth.
"An assassin?"
"……."
"Don't wanna answer? Fine."
Swipe.
Berddin drew his sword. It was one he'd just finished training with, so the blade was dull, but it was still sharp enough to cut someone down.
"What're you waiting for? Come on."
A relaxed expression.
In contrast, the black-masked man's breathing grew ragged from extreme tension.
He should have taken out a mere kid in an instant and slipped away. But now they'd ended up in a standoff—how frustrating was that?
'Gotta hurry.'
If this dragged on, the guardian knights guarding the castle would show up.
'Damn it. Better finish this quick before things go south.'
The masked man channeled aura into his sword as he spoke.
Shwaaaaa.
"Don't fuck around."
Tadadak!
The masked man charged at Berddin. His feet wrapped in aura made for an impressive display of movement.
Makes sense—he'd breached the defenses of Strange Castle's guardian knights, so his skills weren't ordinary. In this world, assassins needed that level to make a living.
Kyang!
The swords clashed with a crisp ring. The sound trailed off so cleanly it felt like they'd aimed for the exact same spot.
'He's holding the sword backwards?'
The assassin's blade pointed toward the ground. He'd switched his grip so seamlessly that it was masterful weapon handling.
Of course, it was nothing compared to Berddin, who had been called the Sword King in his previous life.
Kyang!
"Not bad swordsmanship for an assassin."
The assassin's sword arced through the air before suddenly switching to a thrust.
An image of the assassin's identity began forming in Berddin's mind.
There weren't many who wielded swordsmanship exquisite enough to be called artistry.
"Shut your trap—what the hell does a brat like you know?"
"I'll show you what I know."
Kyang! Kyang! Kyang! Kyang!
Exactly four clashes, precise and telling. More than enough to gauge each other's skill. The masked man judged he couldn't win with the sword against this kid.
They'd barely exchanged blows, yet his blade was already chipping, and the shock traveling up his arm made his elbow tingle.
'Damn Strange bastards—are they all born monsters?'
No choice but to switch weapons. The masked man thrust his sword forward with his left hand and grabbed the small crossbow strapped to his lower back with his right.
"Die, you brat!"
He loaded a bolt without hesitation and aimed at Berddin. But this was a grave mistake.
It might have worked on someone else.
But the one before him now was a former Sword King with the Sword God as his guardian spirit.
Shhk—
A whisper of wind grazed the masked man's ear. Nothing visible had passed by.
He'd only just pulled the trigger to load the bolt.
Thud.
There was his right arm, fallen to the ground.
"……?"
Spurt! Blood began gushing from the severed stump.
"Argh!"
He let out a sharp scream from the unbearable pain.
Berddin, his hair now turned golden, picked up the masked man's severed arm.
"If you'd stuck to the sword, I wouldn't have cut off your arm."
"……."
"Well, I was gonna behead you anyway, so whatever."
A chill ran down the masked man's spine.
How could a five-year-old say something like that?
The moment their eyes met, goosebumps erupted across his skin. Those golden pupils held a killing intent stronger than any he'd ever felt.
The overwhelming presence that freezes your legs, like facing a wild beast.
The masked man's ragged breaths filled the room. Blood from his wound had already soaked the floor.
The fight was decided.
An assassin elite enough to breach the Strange Family's defenses had lost to a five-year-old child.
"…Damn it!"
The masked man scanned his surroundings and bolted for the window.
Crash!
Berddin didn't pursue the fleeing assassin.
He simply held the severed arm aloft and watched through the shattered window as the man vanished into the distance.
The guardian knights arrived late, pounding hard on the door.
Bang, bang, bang.
"Young Master, may we enter?"
"Yeah, come in."
Three guardian knights rushed into the room. The leader among them swept his gaze over the blood-soaked floor, eyes widening.
"Wha... what the hell is this?"
"An assassin came."
"An assassin?!"
"Yeah. He fled that way."
Berddin pointed toward the forest outside the window. The knight dashed over, confirmed the direction, and bellowed toward the outer guards.
"Assassin! Pursue him!!"
The assassin sprinted through the forest at full speed. He absolutely could not get caught by the Strange Family knights. It wouldn't end with mere death.
Even as he ran, he untied his belt, stretched it long, and used his mouth and left arm to tightly bind the stump of his severed right arm.
Pop.
The bleeding visibly slowed. He pulled an unknown powder from his pocket and sprinkled it on the wound—sizzle! The blood coagulated, sealing it shut.
As the blood trail on the ground faded, the knights' pursuit slowed.
The distance between them grew with time, and eventually, the knights lost him.
If the sun had risen just a bit earlier, they might have caught him. The thick clouds blanketing the sky had aided his escape.
"Phew... that was close."
Having shaken his pursuers, the assassin hid in a nearby cave.
This was deep in the forest where giant monsters appeared—a place even veteran merchants avoided, let alone adventurers.
"Goddamn brat."
The masked man bit his lip hard in agony.
As he clutched his severed arm and steadied his breathing, a scarred middle-aged man emerged from the shadows.
"You're late."
"…Captain."
The one called Captain sighed upon seeing the masked man's severed arm.
"Failed, huh?"
"…Sorry."
"The guardian knights?"
"No."
"Then?"
The masked man nearly admitted he'd lost to the kid but hung his head in shame instead.
The Captain slowly approached and flicked the assassin's forehead with his finger.
Pop.
"Explain the failure."
"…The assassination attempt succeeded. But the target didn't die."
"What?!"
"I... infiltrated successfully. Waited for the guardian knights to step away, then smashed the brat's head with the bludgeon."
"And he survived a bludgeon to the head? A five-year-old?"
"…Yes. Sorry."
The masked man dropped to his knees, gauging the mood.
The Captain's forehead veins bulged as he clenched his fists.
"The pursuit?"
"Shook them all off."
"Did they learn your identity?"
"N-no. I just left an arm behind. Nothing else—"
"You idiot! So your arm's sitting in Strange Castle now?"
"……Yes."
"Why didn't you retrieve it?"
"No time..."
Slap!
The Captain struck the masked man's cheek. He drew a dagger and pressed it to his throat, continuing.
"They have people who can track by voice alone. And you left your arm there? Do you even realize what you're saying?!"
The Captain fell deep into thought. If the Strange Family launched a full pursuit, capture was only a matter of time.
"…Head east."
"East? Back to Glazer territory?"
"Yeah. Explain to the client—they'll hook you up with someone to ship you across the sea to another continent. He'll die if this blows up anyway."
"Another continent..."
"Hurry. Find them fast and get off this land before the Stranges mobilize in earnest."
"Interesting."
The type of weapons he used confirmed it: definitely an assassin.
The way he gripped the sword hilt matched the eastern assassins I knew. So the one who hired him to kill me must be connected to those eastern assassins.
'East, huh...'
It had to be that guy.
Siegfried scowled deeply and scratched his head.
"Hey, disciple. Why didn't you chase the assassin?"
"No point. Couldn't catch him anyway."
"Why not?"
"The assassin who came for me was a veteran. And I'm still just five. If he flees for his life, I can't keep up stamina-wise."
I placed the severed arm from the assassin I'd dealt with on the table and continued.
"Besides, that guy's as good as caught already."
"Huh? How?"
"I know who he is."
"You do?"
"Yeah. There aren't many assassins skilled enough to infiltrate Strange HQ."
Siegfried picked his nose with his pinky and nodded.
"Fair point."
"And there aren't many who could give him orders—or at least commission him. Especially ones gunning for me."
"Who is it?"
I looked up at the photos hanging above the door: the current direct lineage of the Strange Family.
Roys at the top, followed by his seven brothers below. Six brothers excluding the youngest—me.
'Right now, one of them is after my head.'
A prominent candidate for next family head, no less.
"……Gunter."
The eldest had begun to move.