Veikyul let gravity take her, dropping into a crouch to evade the dagger tip aimed directly at her head.
(This guy... he’s out for blood!?)
Despite the shock, she knew this was no longer about the rules of a fighting tournament. With her life on the line, she prioritized action above all else.
She braced herself with one hand against the stage floor and launched a sweeping kick at her opponent’s legs.
However, the man seemed to have anticipated a move of that caliber. He leapt lightly to avoid the sweep and, mid-air, launched a counter-kick aimed straight for Veikyul’s head.
"Kyaa!"
Letting out a sharp cry, Veikyul managed to catch the kick with the hilt of her dagger. The impact sent her skidding backward, but it successfully put some much-needed distance between her and the man.
"You! What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Veikyul shouted, finally catching her breath.
The man merely wore a thin, unsettling smirk.
Seeing his reaction, she was certain that the initial strike aimed at her head had been no accident.
And it didn't stop there. She had managed to block that last kick with her hilt, but it had been aimed precisely at her throat. Had it connected, her neck would have undoubtedly snapped.
"Killing your opponent is an automatic disqualification and a criminal offense... but I suppose you already know that," Veikyul muttered bitterly.
In contrast to her grimace, the man toyed with his dagger, a viscous smile plastered on his face.
It was the look of a cat savoring the moment before it killed a cornered mouse.
The most troublesome part for Veikyul was that the audience didn't perceive any of this as abnormal. Most of the spectators assumed the lethal exchanges were simply part of a high-level match and continued to cheer lightheartedly.
Of course, there were a few who felt something was off, and more than a few who clearly sensed the man's murderous intent. However, projecting murderous intent wasn't exactly rare in the middle of a battle. If the man argued that his opening strike was merely a feint intended to be dodged, it would be nearly impossible for the officials to punish him.
(But why go after me?)
As the question swirled in her mind, she recalled the image of Rei and Rhodos being attacked on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital a few days prior. She had jumped in to help them then; perhaps that had made her a target. Once the thought took root, she found herself immediately convinced.
It made sense. They were likely thinning out the obstacles surrounding their primary target—targeting her and the rest of the Wind Dragon Fang first.
"Honestly... what a stupid move. But now that I know the score, I'm not going to let you take me down that easily."
Veikyul glared at her opponent and adjusted her stance, gripping her dagger tight.
The man’s lips curled into a mocking sneer. "Hmph. You really think a brat like you can match me? If you’d just stayed quiet, I would have given you a quick, painless death."
"...For the record, killing an opponent is a crime. You do understand that, right?"
"Naturally. But even if it’s a crime, that doesn't make it an absolute deterrent."
There was a chilling certainty in his voice. Veikyul’s expression soured as the realization hit her.
"The nobility, huh?"
"Well, who knows? Regardless, the chatter is over. Don't you think it’s about time you departed for the afterlife?"
"Unfortunately, I don't plan on dying yet. I still have a dream of finding a good man and getting married... so, take this!"
Mid-sentence, Veikyul lunged forward with an explosive burst of speed.
She held her dagger in her right hand while reaching meaningfully into her tunic with her left. Then, she yanked her left hand out with a flourish.
For a split second, the man’s gaze was drawn to that hand. However, since it appeared to be empty, he dismissed the movement as a feint.
He hurriedly tried to bring Veikyul’s entire body back into his field of vision—and in that instant, a sharp, excruciating pain lanced through his right eye.
"Gah! Damn it! What did you do, you bitch!?"
Sensing he was in immediate danger, the man leapt backward while clutching his face. His right eye was ruined, half his vision plunged into darkness.
He touched his eye tentatively. Sticking out of the eyeball was a tiny, sharp fragment of metal, barely a few millimeters long.
"You piece of shit! Look what you did to my eye!"
In a blind rage, he hurled his dagger. But with his depth perception shattered, the blade flew wide, missing Veikyul entirely.
"How foolish. Your arrogance in underestimating me was your downfall!"
Veikyul shouted as she circled into the man’s blind spot and unleashed another metal fragment.
Another burst of intense pain followed. When he reached for his right cheek, he found a second metal fragment embedded there, identical to the first.
After being hit twice, the man finally realized how Veikyul was attacking and screamed in frustration.
"Enough with the cheap tricks, dammit!"
"Hmph. What’s wrong with a thief using tricks?"
She gave a curt reply. Exploiting his lost vision, Veikyul closed the distance and swung her dagger. She didn't use the edge, however; she slammed the hilt hard against the base of his skull.
The impact sent the man, who had been foul-mouthly cursing her, into a state of unconsciousness. He collapsed in a heap upon the stage.
"Honestly, I never thought I'd have to use my trump card so soon," Veikyul grumbled, watching as the referee climbed onto the stage to check the fallen man.
The metal fragments embedded in the man's eye and cheek were one of Veikyul’s secret techniques—one she would have preferred to keep hidden during her very first match.
Had Rei seen it, the term Shidan from Chinese martial arts would have surely come to his mind. It was a technique for flicking projectiles with only the fingertips—a type of concealed armament known as an anchor or hidden weapon. This was one of Veikyul's specialties.
(Well, it's doubtful I could have won without it. Truth be told, our skill levels were about even, or maybe I was slightly inferior.)
While she was lost in thought, the referee concluded that the man was indeed out. Turning toward Veikyul, he raised his voice.
"The winner is Veikyul!"
The arena erupted into a roar of cheers. Since both combatants had utilized a speed-oriented fighting style, the match had been a thrilling spectacle for the audience.
(As for this man... what should I do? If he's connected to the nobility, there's no point in complaining to the Management Committee Member. Since his attempt on my life was probably related to Rei and the others, I'll just have to let Rei or Rhodos know.)
As she reached that conclusion, another thought struck her. She had been attacked by assassins very recently, and those assassins had been members of the Requiem Bell.
(Wait, wait, wait. Don't tell me this guy belongs to the Requiem Bell too? If he does, doesn't that mean I'm as involved in this mess as I could possibly be?)
The sense of victory she had felt moments ago evaporated. Instead, it felt as though someone had dropped a block of ice down her spine.
"Veikyul, what's wrong? The match is over," the referee said, sounding suspicious. "We have the next bout coming up, so if you're done, please leave the stage."
"...Eh? Ah, yes. Sorry. I was just... so happy that I won."
Veikyul regained her composure, but her expression looked far from joyous. Not that the referee had any right to probe further; he simply proceeded to remove the unconscious man from the stage with the help of other committee members.
Seeing them off, Veikyul decided that staying there might lead to further trouble, so she quickly descended from the stage. She needed to inform Rei or Rhodos about the man as soon as possible.
"Damn it, he messed up... Are you sure you chose an organization that actually knows what they're doing!?"
In a private box that was rather cramped for someone of his standing, a certain noble spat out those words while watching Veikyul's match.
Had there been other spectators around, he would have been forced to lower his voice, but fortunately, only he and his maid were present.
The maid standing behind him spoke, her expression a mask of professional calm. "Yes. However, the fact that the Requiem Bell is on the move has made every other organization hesitant to get involved."
"Which is why I hired those mad dogs who'll do anything without complaint as long as they're paid!"
The moment he said that, the maid behind the noble moved with a blur of speed. She stepped forward without a sound and swung a chain she had drawn from beneath her skirt.
A metallic clang echoed through the room as a dagger embedded itself in the floor.
It was clear to anyone seeing it what had just occurred.
Realizing he had been targeted, the noble turned toward the source of the dagger, his eyes burning with fury.
Standing there was a man. His entire face was painted stark white, adorned with makeup that resembled tattoos. His hair stood straight up as if reaching for the heavens, making it impossible to guess his age.
"You! What is the meaning of this!?" the noble roared at the figure who had appeared out of nowhere.
However, the man who had thrown the dagger only wore a frivolous grin. Ignoring the noble entirely, he turned his attention to the maid holding the chain.
A maid wielding a chain was a highly incongruous sight, yet that seemed to be exactly what pleased the man.
"She's pretty good. Hey, how about it? Want to go a few rounds with me?"
"...Unfortunately, I am a mere maid."
"Hah? A mere maid? A 'mere maid' doesn't block my daggers. Forget that, let's have at it. Let's have ourselves a blood-pumping, flesh-quivering dance."
The maid gave a small, polite bow to the man, who was now inviting her with a bloodthirsty smile like that of a rabid hound—a total departure from his frivolous look seconds before.
The noble could no longer contain his rage. The man had tried to kill him for no reason, and after being blocked, had immediately moved on to hitting on his servant. He had never been so thoroughly ignored in his life.
"I asked you what the meaning of this was! Answer me!"
If he were an ordinary citizen of the Empire, the noble's roar would have made him shrink back in fear. But the man didn't seem bothered at all.
"Ehh, well, you were insulting us, calling us mad dogs and all, weren't you?" he said with a smirk. "So, I just thought I'd act like a mad dog for you."
"...Don't you realize that behaving like that is exactly why you're called mad dogs? Besides, isn't it because you people of the Moonlight Bow showed such pathetic incompetence earlier?"
"Hmm, well, he did fail... but do you think there's any other organization that would take a contract to target someone the Requiem Bell is after?"
"Guh!"
"I mean, I'm sure the nobility has their own private forces... but you can't exactly use them in public, can you?"
The man's words hit home. Initially, many organizations had been targeting Crimson, but once the information spread that the Requiem Bell was hunting him—and putting a great deal of effort into it—most organizations had withdrawn.
Even now, only a few groups were still active, and most of those were bottom-tier thugs who had never even heard of the Requiem Bell. In such an environment, the only group capable of operating with truly skilled personnel was the Moonlight Bow.
The Moonlight Bow was an organization founded by ex-members of the Requiem Bell. It was essentially a group formed by battle maniacs and killers who had been exiled from the parent organization.
Normally, leaving such an organization was extremely difficult, but because they were combat and murder enthusiasts, they were exceptionally skilled. Of course, if the Requiem Bell were to put its full strength into it, annihilating them wouldn't be hard, but the cost to the Requiem Bell would be significant.
Furthermore, given the nature of their illegal activities, there were many who were highly skilled but unable to work well with others. The Moonlight Bow had been created as a place to accept such individuals, or perhaps to use them as disposable pawns, serving as an external outlet for the Requiem Bell as a product of compromise.
Because of the circumstances of their founding, the Moonlight Bow had no problem taking contracts even if the target was already being hunted by their parent organization. That made them quite useful.
Ordinarily, it would be common sense to avoid offending the Requiem Bell, which was effectively their superior, but such things meant nothing to the collection of lunatics that made up the Moonlight Bow. If anything, they would likely be delighted to pick a fight with the Requiem Bell.
The noble clicked his tongue in resentment, knowing he had no choice but to rely on such people.
(I hear Count Schwindel is also on the move... I won't let Crimson's head fall into the hands of someone like him!)
They were acquaintances, but even so, there were some things he absolutely refused to concede.