"Uoooooo!"
With a roar, the spear lunged forward, piercing a man’s flank and punching straight through his leather armor.
"Gugh... you damn trash..."
The man clutched his side and retreated. Immediately, two others—one with a dagger and one with a longsword—stepped forward to shield him.
Protected by his comrades, the wounded man pulled a potion from his vest and poured it over the puncture, beginning the healing process.
"Nacht!"
"I’m on it!"
Ecethesus, the man with the spear, called out to his rear, receiving an instant reply.
Standing back-to-back, Ecethesus felt a brief surge of relief at his partner’s voice. However, he quickly detected the strain in Nacht’s tone. Realizing there was no time to relax, he glared sharply at the enemies surrounding them.
The two were currently in a back street near the slums of Exil.
They had been scouring the city for information regarding the recent string of disappearances, only to be ambushed in this alleyway as if the attackers had been lying in wait.
Under normal circumstances, they might have dismissed this as a common mugging given the proximity to the Slum District.
But there was a definitive reason why this was no mere robbery—a reason embodied by the man Ecethesus had just run through.
Because...
"You bastards! Where did you take Tibia?! Confess already!"
Ecethesus’s shout echoed through the narrow passage.
One of the men who had attacked them was undoubtedly the same person who had kidnapped Tibia and severed Gort’s limbs.
"Hah, like I’d tell you," the man spat.
Having closed his wound with the potion, the man spoke again with a provocative sneer.
The healing hadn't been instantaneous, but it was significantly faster than a standard potion. It was clear the man was using a high-grade brew far more potent than anything found in a common shop.
Feeling his injury vanish, the man continued his taunts.
"Well, she’s probably having a real 'pleasant' time right about now. It’s a damn shame... even with one arm gone, she’s still a fine piece of work."
The man grinned greasefully and licked his lips.
The sight sent the blood rushing to Ecethesus's head. He leveled his spear again and took a frantic step forward.
"You... you bastardddddd!"
Consumed by rage, his grip tightened too much in all the wrong places. The speed of his thrust was noticeably slower than his opening strike.
One of the swordsmen parried the spear and began to slide his blade down the spear's shaft toward the man's fingers.
"Ecethesus!"
Just as the blade was about to reach the spearman's hands, Nacht threw a dagger. The swordsman sensed the danger and leaped back, easily creating distance.
Damn it, these guys are actually strong, Nacht thought, drawing a fresh dagger from his belt and calmly analyzing the situation. I don't think they were this tough when they took Tibia.
He flicked his gaze across the alley.
Nine enemies total. One was wounded, but he's already back in the fight thanks to that potion.
The attackers watched them carefully, gauging their next move. Being so close to the slums, they seemed confident that their prey had no escape. Despite that confidence, they didn't lower their guard, waiting for the slightest lapse in defense.
"Why are you doing this?! Why kidnap Tibia... why attack adventurers at all?!" Ecethesus screamed with indignation.
The surrounding men offered no answer, merely tightening their grip on their weapons.
The fact that their longest weapon was a longsword suggested they knew how to fight in a cramped city where polearms were a liability. In fact, Ecethesus was unable to perform a sweep—a basic spear maneuver—and was forced to rely entirely on thrusts.
Even so, the fact that he had managed to wound one of them proved that Ecethesus possessed extraordinary talent.
"You people were just too persistent," the man who had been pierced in the side said with a mocking laugh. "Dragging House Silwa into this was your last mistake. Though, that's exactly why you're ending up like this."
"Ogul, you're talking too much," one of the other men snapped. "Why give them information?"
The man called Ogul didn't seem to care. He continued with a smirk.
"They're going to die here anyway. Why not give them a little parting gift? Besides, that one-armed woman will be joining them in the void soon enough. Sending them all to the same place is just an act of kindness on my part. The Holy—"
"Ogul!"
The other man barked a sharp reprimand, cutting Ogul off before he could finish the thought.
I see, Nacht thought, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. If what they’re saying is true, then Tibia is at least still alive.
But that hope was tempered by the reality of their situation. There were nine of them, each as skilled as—or perhaps more skilled than—himself and Ecethesus. In a straight fight, they stood no chance of winning.
We have to run. But...
He glanced at Ecethesus, whose face was flushed crimson with fury as he glared at Ogul.
A lead on their kidnapped comrade was right in front of them, and the enemy was actively goading him. There was no way Ecethesus would agree to a retreat now.
I need to shake them up. Something... anything...
While using his daggers to keep the attackers at bay, Nacht desperately racked his brain. He replayed their words, searching for an opening, until he found a single inconsistency.
It was what Ogul had said just now. The word his comrade had cut off.
"Holy...?"
At Nacht’s mention of the word, the surrounding men faltered.
Nacht didn't know exactly why they were shaken, but he knew it was their only chance. Like an arrow released from a bow, he kicked off the ground and lunged.
Ecethesus acted in tandem, his spear flashing out to pierce a man’s right shoulder through a gap in his leather armor. He retracted it and thrust again, the spear tip shattering a pouch hanging from the man's waist.
A clattering sound rang out as the pouch was instantly drenched.
The potion vials inside had been smashed. While potion containers were designed to be sturdy enough for travel, they couldn't withstand a direct hit from a spear.
"What!"
"I knew you had potions too!"
Beside Ecethesus, Nacht’s dagger flashed, slicing through the eyes of one man. With a follow-up strike, he slashed the eyes of another, blinding two of them in a heartbeat.
"You bastard!"
Enraged by the sight of his comrades falling, one of the men roared as he swung his longsword downward.
"Tch!"
Nacht twisted his body to narrowly avoid the blade, but his momentum was spent. He couldn't dodge a low follow-up kick and fell backward, hitting the ground hard.
"Nacht!"
As Ecethesus's voice rang out, one of the men moved to bring his sword down on the fallen Nacht.
But just as the blade descended, something flew through the air at incredible speed, slamming into the longsword and knocking it off course.
"What!?"
The men were stunned. Knowing the danger of their operation being discovered, they had been paying close attention to their surroundings. Yet, they hadn't detected this newcomer at all.
And the anomalies were just beginning.
The men realized that something was rapidly approaching. Something overflowing with raw murderous intent and battle lust.
The identity of that entity was revealed a fraction of a second later.
A flash of purple crossed the men's vision. In the next moment, they lost consciousness and collapsed.
In the span of a few blinks, four men—more than half of the seven remaining combatants—had been knocked cold.
The remaining three men stared in horror at the figure that now stood between them and their targets.
The woman brushing back her purple hair with a gauntleted arm was, in a word, bewitching.
She wore multiple layers of thin raiment—the kind of outfit a dancer or prostitute might wear—leaving her pale, muscular limbs exposed. Only the gauntlets and greaves she wore hinted at her life as a warrior.
No, more than her equipment, it was her eyes—blazing with an unquenchable thirst for combat—that marked her as a true fighter.
Though she wore a seductive expression, the men recognized her instantly.
"The Mad Beast... Vihera..."
"Fufu, so you know my name. From what I can see, you three look like you might be worth a fight... but attacking two people in a place like this? That’s a bit disappointing, don't you think?"
"This has nothing to do with you," one of them growled. "Stay out of this and get lost."
"I wouldn't mind doing that, usually," Vihera purred. "But my woman's intuition is telling me that staying here will lead to a much better fight. And my partner agrees."
She flicked her gaze to the side.
There stood a girl... or rather, a child.
"Nn."
The petite child gave a short reply, several needles clutched between her fingers.
The men realized those needles were what had deflected the sword strike intended for Nacht. Their gaze shifted from one of dismissal to one of extreme caution.
"...Leave. This is none of your business. There's no need to go looking for trouble."
One of the remaining men gestured with his dagger toward the alley's exit.
But Vihera only responded with a provocative smile.
"Unfortunately, these two are acquaintances of the man I've set my heart on. Isn't that right?"
"Nn."
At Vihera's seeking confirmation, Byune gave a short nod.
As a thief who delved into the dungeon, Byune made it her business to gather information. Since she rarely spoke more than a word at a time, she gathered her intel by eavesdropping in taverns and the guild with her keen thief’s ears.
Just yesterday, she had heard a rumor at the guild that Sound Blade—the party to which Ecethesus and Nacht belonged—had been saved by Rei in the dungeon.
Since they were a relatively famous party in Exil, Byune knew what they looked like.
To Byune, Rei and Elena were the people who looked after her despite her status as the sole survivor of House Flaut. Unless she was in a desperate hurry, she wouldn't hesitate to help their acquaintances.
The only reason she and Vihera were near the slums was because they were returning from a delivery request. Vihera had followed her out of a protective instinct... and because she relished the chance to fight someone from the city's dark underbelly.
The men exchanged silent, tense glances.
They were confident in their strength, but they knew they couldn't take down the Mad Beast without causing a massive scene.
However, they couldn't leave Ecethesus and Nacht to keep digging, nor could they abandon their blinded comrades. After weighing the options, they reached a conclusion.
"...We're pulling out."
With that order, the men who could still move provided cover as they quickly gathered their fallen and retreated into the shadows.
"Damn it, wait!"
"Stop," Vihera said, holding Ecethesus back. "With your current strength, you have no hope of winning."
"But Tibia is...!"
Ecethesus tried to argue, but by then, the men—including Ogul—had already vanished.