That night, Jared, after finishing dinner with Olivier and the others, was in a light sleep in his room.
Jared, who had been breathing softly, suddenly woke up and sprang out of bed.
“As expected, it was tonight.”
He had learned through his magic power that someone had tripped the traps he had set on the grounds during the day. He immediately changed into his combat uniform, equipped his weapons, and jumped out of his room window.
There were three intruders. Two of them were entangled in thorns and captured.
“Was it your doing?”
As Jared landed in front of the intruders, a quiet but menacing voice called out to him.
“You’re from Waalthe, aren’t you?”
“Indeed.”
The attackers, illuminated by the moonlight, were all dressed in matching black attire, but the one who was not restrained was different.
This person was not wearing a hood, had a quiver with arrowheads on his back, and held a bow in his left hand. His eyes, peeking out from under blue hair that reflected the moonlight, were sharp, and he appeared to be a boy who still had a hint of youth.
Jared was surprised that a boy younger than himself was a member of the Assassination Organization Waalthe, but he knew from his knowledge that such organizations subjected children to harsh training from a young age to become assassins. He inferred that the boy, having avoided the trap, was a considerable user. He had heard that Waalthe assassins were users of a caliber unparalleled by other organizations. Therefore, Jared had to prepare himself accordingly.
Jared was, after all, a magician, and while he fought magical beasts and sometimes humans, he was not a specialist in combat. More importantly, unlike assassins who specialized in killing, he still retained a humanity that caused him to hesitate to kill. This difference was significant. The hesitation of one person and the lack thereof in another would be clearly evident even in a single attack.
“Is it rude to ask what this is all about?”
“It’s fine. We from Waalthe have accepted a request to assassinate Hannelore Alway. If possible, we will also assassinate Olivier Alway, and if you get in the way, we will kill you too.”
Since he had been explicitly told he would be killed, there was no choice but to fight.
“Are you going to tell me whose request it is?”
“Of course not.”
“Can I request that you cancel it now?”
“No.”
“I see. I was just asking.”
However, if it could be resolved without fighting, that would have been better. He wanted to protect Olivier, but he hesitated to fight a boy younger than himself, even though he had accepted a request. But the outcome was that he had to fight. He hated such realities.
“Conversely, I also have something I want to ask.”
The boy with the bow inquired.
“Why do you stand before us despite our warning? You are Olivier Alway’s fiancé by position, but you were suddenly chosen just a few days ago. Despite this, why do you stand in our way?”
Knowing his position, it was likely the work of a consort who disliked Hannelore, just as Duke Alway had suspected. He found it unbearable that Hannelore, who had not lost her smile even during dinner, was being threatened by a malicious reason. He could not accept that Olivier, who was trying to protect such a mother, was being targeted as well. He felt an urge to erupt in anger and attack the boy, but he desperately suppressed it and maintained a calm demeanor. If he lost his composure before the fight, he could not win.
There was still Trane, who would be considered a magician even if she died, but he couldn’t be certain if she alone could protect them from now on. Therefore, Jared could not afford to lose.
“There’s no grand reason to speak of.”
“Then why?”
“It’s simple. I don’t want the mother who loves her daughter, the daughter who loves her mother, or the maid who protects them to die. That’s all.”
“Incomprehensible. Your actions are beyond my understanding.”
“That’s how people’s feelings are. They’re things others can’t understand.”
He didn’t intend to make them understand. Jared’s sole reason for confronting Waalthe, the continent’s premier assassination organization, was simply that he didn’t want Olivier and the others to die. It was the first time Jared had ever wanted to protect someone, even at the cost of his own life, so it was only natural that others wouldn’t understand.
“Now that we’ve had our conversation, shall we fight?”
“As you wish. But there’s something I must do first.”
The boy said so and shifted his gaze to his restrained companions.
“What—!”
Jared, thinking the boy intended to rescue his companions, was startled. The captured assassins were foaming at the mouth and convulsing. They had clearly ingested something poisonous.
“I didn’t use any poison!”
He had taken precautions to capture them alive so he could extract information, as killing them would make that impossible. He had anticipated that capturing them through combat might be difficult, so he had set up capture traps at the cost of expending magic power, yet the ones who succeeded in capturing them were now dying.
“I know you didn’t use poison. They both drank poison of their own accord. It is my duty to witness their deaths.”
“You’re not going to save them?”
“This is their own responsibility. We are Waalthe, an assassination organization, not a group of close friends. Choosing to die by their own hand to prevent information leaks is not uncommon.”
The boy lowered his eyes and prayed silently for his two companions, whose convulsions had ceased and who had died. Then, he picked up an arrowhead, nocked an arrow, and aimed it at Noah.
“I’m grateful for the time you’ve given me, but I have no intention of holding back. I will kill you and the target. My mission remains unchanged.”
“Then my mission is to defeat you and extract information.”
“Try it if you can.”
The boy curled his lips into a provocative smile. There was no trace of grief for his fallen comrades.
“State your name, assassin. I am Jared Murphy, a magician.”
“I am Pfeil, an assassin and archer from the Assassination Organization Waalthe.”
As soon as they finished introducing themselves, they kicked off the ground. Jared sprinted forward, while the boy named Pfeil leaped backward, releasing an arrow. He slashed the arrow with the knife he drew. Before the next arrow could be loosed, he threw his knife to finish him off. The knife, thrown in a straight line toward Pfeil, was batted away by the bow swung in an arc. However, the real attack was not the knife.
He channeled his magic power and interfered with the spirits.
“Spirits, grant me power—”
With a short incantation, he created ten obsidian spears. Taking one in his hand, he threw the other nine one by one. The obsidian spears attacked Pfeil with such force that they seemed to possess a will of their own. Even as he dodved them, they continued to pursue him. His sole objective was capture, and to extract information. He had no intention of killing. If he could exhaust Pfeil’s stamina, capture him, and prevent him from committing suicide, Jared would win. However, Pfeil, fitting the name of a Waalthe assassin, shot down and destroyed the spears with his arrows, reducing their numbers. The sight of him collecting usable arrows from the ground while doing so was indicative of his skill. Pfeil’s skill, shooting arrows while looking for openings between destroying the spears, was truly first-rate, and one could easily be shot down if one let their guard down. Jared again channeled his magic power and interfered with the spirits. He asked the spirits in the air to grant him power and created a water whip. As he threw the obsidian spear he held, he switched to the whip and swung it. The water whip, attacking with unpredictable movements, cornered Pfeil, depriving him of any escape. Pfeil, who had been running freely throughout the grounds, began to show a visible decline in his mobility. A flicker of anxiety appeared on the boy’s usually calm face. Conversely, Jared had an air of composure. In terms of sheer combat skill, Pfeil was more experienced and superior in every way. However, Jared was a magician and could compensate for his deficiencies with magic. Not content with just the water whip, he continued to create numerous fireballs in the air. A single strike from the whip shattered the ground and had enough power to cause more than just broken bones if it hit. By swinging it himself, Jared consumed less magic power for control and, above all, could avoid direct hits. After a few minutes of combat, Pfeil was driven to the wall and glared at Jared with resentment.
“No matter how skilled you are, your arrows cannot defeat magic. Surrender.”
Jared, with over fifty fireballs lined up and ready to be fired, issued his ultimatum. However, Pfeil quietly nocked a new arrow onto his bow. Judging that Pfeil had no intention of surrendering, Jared simultaneously unleashed the fireballs.
“Don’t underestimate Waalthe. Dealing with magic is always possible.”
He fired a single arrow with a smile. The moment this single arrow touched a fireball, it exploded, creating a blast of wind with a deafening roar. Both Jared and Pfeil were blown away at point-blank range by the flames of the explosion. Jared was slammed into the ground and bounced several times, but managed to regain his posture. However,
“—Ah.”
Three arrows attacked him from within the inferno. One grazed his cheek, another pierced his left shoulder, and the last one shot through his left thigh. Jared, who had lost his balance and fallen, saw Pfeil, who was still holding his bow amidst the flames, despite his black attire and skin being scorched.
“You put explosives on the arrowheads, didn’t you…”
“Correct. But you realized it too late. I win, magician.”
As Pfeil declared victory, the released arrow pierced Jared, who was lying on the ground and unable to move.
