Thud. With a heavy sound, a right arm—still clutching a morning star—hit the ground.
The limb had been severed by a Death Scythe's Strike. The blow had been so exceptionally sharp that several seconds passed after the arm landed before blood finally began to spray from the dreadlocked man’s right shoulder.
Yet, despite having his arm hacked off, the dreadlocked man showed no hint of pain. If anything, he wore a faint smirk as he opened his mouth.
"Heh. That was a pretty sharp attack. I guess you really do earn the name Crimson."
Doesn't it hurt? Rei almost asked the question, but he caught himself. The man’s expression didn't look like someone enduring agony; he seemed genuinely impressed.
"I’m glad you approve," Rei replied, though his tone remained cautious. "But your morning star—your greatest weapon—is gone. It would be a big help if you’d let yourself be captured quietly now."
Rei made the suggestion knowing full well it would likely be ignored. The dreadlocked man was a clear hedonist, the type who prioritized his own amusement over everything else.
Still, since he was part of an underground organization, he likely knew the inner workings of the Requiem Bell. More than that, Rei was curious about the tattoos carved into the man's face.
It wasn't magic, nor was it a skill that utilized Magic Power. It was something entirely unknown to him.
The dreadlocked man looked back at Rei with a look that seemed to ask what on earth he was talking about. Blood continued to pump from his right shoulder, but his total indifference to the injury created a chilling sense of wrongness. It was as if he existed in an entirely different reality from everyone else.
"The fun’s just getting started! We go from here... right?!"
Declaring this, he shifted his weight and kicked the ground.
In a normal fight, one would assume he was kicking up dirt or gravel to blind his opponent. That was the logical conclusion. But the dreadlocked man didn't kick dirt. He kicked the internal organs of the beastman.
The stomach, intestines, kidneys, and liver—the viscera that had spilled out when the beastman's body was severed in two—flew through the air.
The moment Rei heard the visceral squelch, he leaped far to the side to avoid being showered in gore. He landed a few meters away and immediately kicked off again, launching himself toward the dreadlocked man's flank.
The dreadlocked man caught the movement and wondered for a fraction of a second if Rei was trying to flee. He tried to swing the blade remaining in his left hand to intercept, but in the next instant, his left arm followed the right, falling from the shoulder to the dirt.
Rei had closed the distance as if stepping on invisible footholds in the air, utilizing the mechanics of a Triangle Jump. Had the man gathered more detailed intelligence on his target, he would have known that Rei wore Sleipnir's Shoes—a Magic Item that allowed him to walk on thin air for a few steps.
Then again, the man's judgment was likely so clouded by drugs that it was doubtful such information would have mattered in the heat of combat.
"Heh... hehehe... Eh? Wait... both my arms are gone?"
The sight of him bleeding from both shoulders while laughing was truly bizarre.
Rei used the Sleipnir's Shoes to leap back into the air and put significant distance between them, clicking his tongue inwardly.
Tch. He can’t feel a thing. If he’s immune to pain, I won’t be able to torture information out of him. I really wanted to ask about those tattoos, too... What now? ...Wait.
As Rei contemplated how to extract intel from a man who smiled while bleeding out, he sensed a presence approaching. He initially feared it might be another assassin, but the figure that emerged was a man in his twenties wearing a Guard Force uniform.
"What's going on here?! I heard a commotion... Wait! You! Those wounds... don't they hurt?"
The Imperial Capital Guard stared in shock at the man laughing through his blood loss. Between the tattoos and the gruesome injuries, the stranger looked suspicious in every possible way.
"Haha... hahahahaha... Both my arms are gone!"
"...What is wrong with this guy? Hey, you there. This man is... wait."
The guard's voice dropped, turning sharp and wary as his eyes landed on the beastman's corpse, which lay severed into upper and lower halves. He then looked at the Death Scythe in Rei's hands.
It didn't take a genius to figure out who was responsible for the carnage.
"I thought I smelled blood... but it wasn't just this one. Lord Rei, I’m going to need an explanation."
"I am Rei," he said, deciding to cooperate. "I’m a participant in the Fighting Tournament. I came here to train, but these men suddenly ambushed me. I fought them off in self-defense."
The guard frowned, his eyes searching Rei’s face as if trying to recall something. "Lower that hood. I need to confirm your identity."
"Fine." Rei lowered his hood without protest.
The face revealed was indeed that of Crimson. The guard had been stationed at the arena during the Qualifying Rounds, so he recognized Rei on sight. There was no mistaking him.
"...Identity confirmed."
For a fleeting second, a look of pure disgust crossed the guard's face. Rei noticed the slight, but he dismissed it. He was a guard of the Bestia Empire, after all. It was only natural for a soldier of the capital to harbor ill will toward the man who had orchestrated the Empire's defeat during the Spring War.
"And now—"
Before the guard could finish his sentence, a heavy thud interrupted them. The dreadlocked man had finally collapsed.
The guard rushed to the man's side, pulling a Potion from a pouch at his belt and sprinkling it over the wounds. It was a standard-issue potion given to rank-and-file guards; it wasn't powerful enough to reattach limbs severed by the Death Scythe. At best, it would merely extend the time it took for him to die.
"Tch, damn it. Look, I’m sorry, but run to the guardhouse and call my colleagues. I’ll stay here and use my potions to buy him some time."
"You want me to go?" Rei asked, stored his Death Scythe into the Misty Ring. "If you need to explain this to the Guard Force, wouldn't it be faster if you, their fellow officer, went instead?"
Rei had his own potions in his Misty Ring, but he had no intention of wasting them on the assassin. Had the guard not shown up, he might have used them as a tool for interrogation, but with an official witness present, that was no longer an option.
To Rei, the dying man had already lost his utility. He wanted to know more about the organization, but the dreadlocked man seemed too far gone to provide coherent answers. His behavior was entirely untethered from reality.
"You’re technically the victim here," the guard argued. "I can’t leave a victim and a perpetrator alone together."
"I see your point." Rei conceded. Even if the perpetrator was incapacitated, a guard couldn't risk leaving a prisoner alone with the person who had just maimed him. "Understood. I'll be back."
"Yeah, hurry. I'll do my best to keep him from dying."
Rei departed at once.
The guard watched him go. For a few minutes, he continued the charade, sprinkling a bit of potion on the wounds every time the effect seemed to wane. But once he confirmed that the area was completely deserted, he poured the rest of the potion into the weeds.
The professional mask of a guard vanished. His face became cold and indifferent, looking down at the man as if he were a pebble on the road.
"Honestly, you lot are always the same. Were you really that bitter about being exiled from the Requiem Bell? For all your posturing, you were happy enough to take the jobs we threw your way... but your sense of rivalry is your undoing."
The man—now speaking as a Requiem Bell Member—received no response. The dreadlocked man's consciousness was a dark blur.
The mole scoffed. "And of all people, you picked Crimson. What did you think would happen, challenging an Alias Holder Adventurer who can dismantle an entire army? Well, I suppose attacking while his Gryphon tamed monster wasn't around was a decent move for a Moonlight Bow member... or maybe it was just dumb luck. Either way, you failed. ...Not that you can hear me anymore."
With the medical aid cut off, the dreadlocked man’s life began to leak away with every drop of blood. The mole watched until the light finally left the man's eyes, then reached out to check the pulse at his neck.
It was faint, fading, until the final flicker of the Flame of Life vanished.
The mole let out a small sigh of relief. "That takes care of that. Still, the Moonlight Bow will probably try something else soon. Though, if their numbers keep dropping like this, it only benefits us."
The relationship between the two groups was complicated, but the Moonlight Bow was essentially made up of those the Requiem Bell couldn't control. Because of their history, the smaller group was obsessed with outdoing their parent organization, often leading to clashes over the same targets. From the Requiem Bell's perspective, any weakening of the Moonlight Bow was a welcome development.
"At least he didn't live long enough to say anything stupid to the guards."
The man had been half-crazed anyway. If he had been taken alive... the mole decided it was a stroke of luck that he could be silenced here.
I don't know if things would have been different if Crimson had stayed, but I managed to get rid of him.
As he stood there in the quiet, the sound of multiple people running reached his ears. Instantly, he swapped his cold demeanor for the face of the Guard Force.
"Damn it!" he screamed, his voice filled with intentional frustration.
The approaching footsteps faltered for a second at the shout. As he knelt by the corpse and pounded his fist against the earth, the first figures appeared.
Rei was at the front. His expression was neutral; he clearly hadn't expected the assassin to survive long enough to talk. However, the other guards Rei had brought with him looked distraught at having arrived too late.
"...We didn't make it?" one colleague asked.
The mole looked up, shaking his head. "No. My potions weren't enough to stabilize him. Maybe if we'd had something high-grade, but..."
"I know," the other guard said with a sigh. "The stuff they give us isn't meant for wounds like this."
"I know. But I really wanted to get something out of him. Especially since he was likely a Moonlight Bow member."
"True enough."
To the Guard Force, the Moonlight Bow was a sworn enemy. They were a pack of rabid dogs who killed for sport, and many guards had died in clashes with them over the years. This had been a rare chance to gather intelligence, and the reinforcements looked dejected.
"There’s no use standing around," the lead guard said, sighing. "We’ll handle the beastman's corpse and this one. Lord Rei, I’m afraid we’ll need you to give us a full report on everything that happened."
Rei nodded. He found the bureaucracy tedious, but he knew he couldn't just walk away.
"Still..." Rei muttered, casting one last look at the body that had lost both arms.
Was that really a wound that a potion couldn't save?
He felt a flicker of doubt, but when the guards called his name, he turned and left the clearing behind.