Chapter 21: Shadows in the Depths
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 21: Shadows in the Depths
"It seems you've run into some trouble."
The maid suddenly felt a chill.
A cold that seeped into her very marrow.
Stiffly, she raised her head and looked forward.
Celicia was cradling the unconscious Muen, her body surrounded by a howling blizzard. Killing intent surged from her like a collapsing dam, pouring out in an endless torrent.
"Do you need me to help you solve your problem?"
Celicia raised a hand, her gaze as cold as iron.
"By eliminating... you."
The maid’s eyes snapped wide.
Without the Withered King's flames to protect her, that terrifying chill instantly eroded her flesh. Pure white frost began at the dagger and crawled up her body; within a few breaths, it had completely frozen her entire arm.
"Damn it."
The maid’s face twisted into a snarl.
She realized then that because of Muen Campbell’s suicidal intervention, her assassination mission had failed. Though the sudden disappearance of those flames bothered her, now was not the time for such thoughts.
She couldn't stay here any longer!
Gritting her teeth, she used her only mobile limb—her left hand—to reach over and shatter her own frozen right arm!
Simultaneously, an egg-sized sphere dropped from her feet and exploded instantly. A cloud of white smoke, designed to mask both perception and sight, blanketed the room in an instant.
Celicia’s eyes narrowed. The blizzard raged, quickly dispersing the smoke, but the maid was already gone.
"Escaped?"
Celicia looked toward the shattered window, a flicker of mockery crossing her eyes.
"No, you won't get away."
"Who do you think this territory belongs to?"
*
"Damn that Muen Campbell!"
The maid—or rather, the assassin codenamed Number Eight—clutched the stump of her severed arm as she scrambled through the shadows along the estate's walls.
"I was so close..."
"If I had known, I would have killed him first, even if he wasn't the target!"
Number Eight’s heart was filled with resentment. A near-perfect operation had been ruined by the sudden interference of an insignificant ant. Anyone would be furious.
But fortunately... it wasn't over yet.
Number Eight lowered her gaze, listening to the sound of blood dripping onto the ground and feeling the agonizing pain of her missing limb. At this moment, she actually felt a trace of relief.
Yes, relief.
"Since Number Nine died, have even I started to fear death?"
She gave a self-deprecating laugh.
However, she quickly suppressed these uncharacteristic emotions, refocusing her attention on the ongoing escape.
...
...
"I think I just heard someone mention doing something to my precious son?"
Number Eight’s flight came to a jarring halt.
She had no choice but to stop, for a man stood directly in her path.
A man as majestic and imposing as a lion.
"The 'Lion King,' Lorne Campbell?"
Number Eight’s face turned deathly pale in an instant.
"Oh? I didn't expect our guest to remember my humble title."
Lorne Campbell reeked of wine. He had just returned from the "battlefield" of greedy hyenas, and he still held an exquisite crystal goblet in his hand. Yet, even dressed in the fine finery of a high noble, he could not hide the terrifying ferocity radiating from his body.
It was a malice that could only be forged by walking through a literal sea of blood and mountains of corpses!
"However, dear guest, I don't recall the Campbell family sending you an invitation. Why, then, have you come uninvited?"
Lorne Campbell continued to smile genially, but his eyes were exceptionally cold, as if he were looking at a corpse.
"Do tell me everything—especially the part about what you wanted to do to my precious son.
"I shall be... all... ears!"
*
On the other side of the Duke’s estate, another figure in a maid’s uniform was fleeing at high speed.
This was Number Six, the other assassin who had slipped away the moment she saw things going south.
"So that is the 'Lion King'? Terrifying. Thank goodness I chose a different direction."
Glancing back at the horrific aura erupting in the distance, a flash of lingering fear crossed her eyes.
"Sorry, Number Eight. You'll have to serve as my decoy for now. I can't afford to die yet."
"Great Withered King above, may your soul return forever to the Red Earth."
After a brief internal prayer for Number Eight, Number Six suppressed the feeling of exhaustion in her body and continued to flee toward the estate's perimeter at maximum speed.
...
"How strange. As a professional assassin, shouldn't you commit suicide to atone for your failure after the mission is botched?"
Number Six’s pupils shrank.
Her stride faltered, and then, like a fish in water, her body twisted violently in mid-air to dodge a frigid shadow that struck from a lethal, cunning angle.
"Who's there?"
Ignoring the burning sting where the cold shadow had grazed her cheek, Number Six stared intently at the nearby darkness.
"Who? Hehe, just an insignificant, ordinary maid."
A young girl in a black-and-white dress stepped out from the shadows. A sudden bolt of lightning outside the window illuminated An’s dignified profile.
"A maid?"
Number Six, also dressed as a maid, gave a mocking laugh. "I've never seen a maid this terrifying."
Number Six wiped the blood from her cheek with a finger and sucked it into her mouth. Soon, the thick, metallic taste of iron filled her oral cavity. That last strike would have taken her head if she hadn't reacted in time.
The opponent’s strength was definitely not low!
But the strange thing was... she couldn't sense any aura from the girl. It was as if she were a completely normal human.
"There are many people in this world you haven't seen, just as I have never seen assassins as useless as you." An’s tone was heavy with genuine pity.
"I even leaked such important information, yet I never expected the ones who showed up would be such trash."
"What... what do you mean by that?"
An involuntary chill rose in Number Six’s heart.
"What do I mean?"
An’s beautiful eyes suddenly widened, and her dignified face became grotesque.
"You don't even know what you've done? Do you have any idea how pathetic you are?"
"That has nothing to do with you. Aren't you a maid of the Duke's estate?"
"Heh, a maid. Of course I'm a maid. But you... you are just... so disappointing."
An suddenly wrapped her arms around herself, lowering her head and letting out a pained groan, as if she were enduring some intense torture.
"We were so close. So close. That bitch Celicia, the one clinging to Young Master Muen, could have left this world forever."
Under Number Six’s horrified gaze, An’s mask of eternal composure peeled away. She began to pant heavily, her smile turning twisted... and demonic.
"And yet, you failed?"
"Failing is one thing, but you actually injured Young Master Muen."
"How could you... how could you hurt him? In this world, the only one allowed to hurt him—is me!"
BOOM!
A peal of thunder drowned out An’s horrifying shriek.
"Ah, no. This won't do."
An placed her hands on her face, slowly smoothing them downward. Her demonic, twisted expression was wiped away inch by inch. She became dignified and elegant once more.
"As Young Master Muen’s personal maid, how could I be so uncouth?"
An lowered her hands, folding them neatly over her stomach. She bowed respectfully to the trembling Number Six.
"Now then, allow me to see you off, honored guest."
Behind An, countless exquisite daggers as thin as cicada wings slowly drifted into the air. Their tips pointed directly at Number Six, each one gleaming with a lethal, frigid light.