A group marched through the shadows of the Noble District.
Keep led the way, spear in hand and encased in heavy metal armor. The suit was massive; Keep was already wheezing under the weight he had donned—partly for his own safety, but mostly for his vanity. Behind him followed three knights, their expressions clouded with apprehension.
They harbored a seed of doubt. Was it truly wise to raid Baron Cisne's House and slaughter every living soul inside? Yet, with their lord leading the charge, they clung to the belief that Count Eriel's House would shield them from any consequences. Keep himself had boasted that his family’s influence could sweep any trouble under the rug. Deep down, they couldn't deny they were looking forward to the impending plunder, violence, and rape.
Behind the knights followed those gathered by Fultos. According to Fultos, they were an elite force, but to any external observer, they looked like anything but. In reality, the group was comprised of dregs from the Slum District and members of criminal organizations. They had some level of combat experience, but they couldn't possibly hope to compare to a B-Rank Adventurer like Zelos, who had recently dueled Rei.
Keep, however, was fully convinced these men were on par with Zelos. His trust in Fultos was absolute. The three knights, while base in character, were reasonably competent—at least enough to hold their own against a D-Rank Adventurer. Even through their eyes, the mob following them seemed like a collection of amateurs, with only a handful of exceptions.
"Heh heh heh. We get to hit a noble's manor? Luck’s on our side tonight, boys, getting a job like this."
"Haha, you said it. Those bastards live like kings while squeezing every coin out of us. Let's make 'em regret it."
"Hey, what kind of women do you think are in there? They’re high-born, so they’ve gotta be a world apart from the prostitutes we usually buy, right?"
"Obviously. They're nobles. Skin like silk, hair like gold... I bet they smell like heaven when you’re pinned on top of 'em."
"I'm here for the gold, not the girls."
"Forget the money. I want to see noble blood. I've heard bastards boast they have blue blood in their veins. This is the perfect chance to see if that's true with my own eyes."
"Don't be a moron. Their blood isn't blue. I killed one on a battlefield once—red as a beet, just like ours."
"Uheh heh. So even a noble bleeds like us in the end, huh?"
"...B-but listen. Attacking a noble's estate... wouldn't we get executed if we're caught?"
"Idiot. You only get executed if you're caught. If we don't get caught, there's no problem, right?"
"O-oh. Right. As expected of Big Brother, you've got a real head on your shoulders."
Those gathered by Fultos continued to chatter as they followed Keep. To these criminals, Keep himself was just another noble, though Keep was entirely oblivious to how they viewed him.
Walking through the Noble District with such a conspicuous group meant it was only a matter of time before they were spotted by the security.
"Hey, you lot! Stop right there! Where do you think you're going with a crowd like that?"
Luck, be it good or bad, ran out near Baron Cisne's House. A Security Adventurer called out to them from the road ahead. The men behind Keep tensed, wondering if they were in danger, but Keep merely turned a foul gaze toward the speaker. He still burned with a fresh hatred for adventurers after the afternoon's humiliation; being addressed with such authority was intolerable.
"Who do you think you're talking to? I am Keep, the next head of Count Eriel's House. I am not someone a mere adventurer addresses so casually."
Keep glared at the three young men standing before him. They looked barely twenty. The one at the front, a longsword belted to his hip, replied cautiously.
"So you are the Lord Next Head of a Count's House? My apologies. However, we have been hired to protect the peace of the Noble District. Please understand our position. ...That said, you are leading a small army, and it appears even Lord Keep is armed. Might we ask for the reason behind this?"
"Hm? Oh, you want to know? ...Specifically, you want to see this spear?"
Keep's response was a non-sequitur. The adventurers felt a chill of dread at his nonsensical tone. Without being obvious, they shifted their weight, preparing to react to a sudden attack.
"Here. Take a look."
As they focused on the spear thrust toward them, a knight lunged forward in perfect coordination with Keep's movement.
"Gwah!"
The adventurer reacted, but he couldn't block both. He was struck before he could even draw his longsword, sent flying into his companions. Before the group could recover, they were surrounded by the mob.
A brutal beating followed. The only mercy for the trio was that Keep's group was more interested in plunder and women than simple thuggery. Deciding they'd rather fall upon the larger prize of Baron Cisne's mansion, they left the unconscious adventurers in the dirt and moved on. The temperature was low enough for snow, and they might have frozen to death had another patrol not passed by a short while later to provide treatment.
"Hah! Look at that. Adventurers are nothing special. We are strong. Strong enough to handle their kind with ease."
Keep brandished his spear at the head of the mob. It was a victory achieved through sheer numbers, but a victory nonetheless. The knights and the thugs raised a cheer of agreement.
The Noble District was quiet, but it wasn't the middle of the night yet. With such a rowdy group marching down the street, many people noticed them. The gatekeepers serving other noble houses immediately reported the group to their superiors. However, Keep had no intention of raiding anyone else; his heart was set solely on the house that had humiliated him. His followers, seeing that a target had already been prepared, didn't bother causing unnecessary trouble elsewhere.
Stoking their own excitement, the group marched on through the dark streets until...
"There it is."
Keep smirked at the sight of the familiar mansion. It wasn't particularly large. To the thugs, it was almost underwhelming, but they were certain that a noble's home would hold more than enough riches to satisfy their greed.
"Well now. Barging in with a crowd like this so late at night... I didn't hear anything about guests arriving."
A voice drifted through the air.
Keep was the first to stop. He had heard that voice far too many times today. The three knights beside him halted as well, forcing the rest of the mob behind them to come to a standstill.
A figure stepped out in front of Keep. Clouds had been obscuring the moon, but as the person stepped forward, the wind cleared the sky, allowing the moonlight to illuminate the ground.
It was a small figure wrapped in a robe.
Keep recognized the voice and the silhouette instantly. The fire of his excitement was doused by a sudden, icy wave of terror. He whispered the name in a trembling, raspy voice.
"Rei..."
"Who the hell are you!?" one of the thugs behind him bellowed.
The man's shout drowned out Keep's feeble whisper. Aside from Keep and his knights, the rest of the mob had no idea who they were facing. They glared with murderous intent; they were on the verge of fulfilling their desires, and this brat was in the way. Having already flattened three security guards on the way here had made them arrogant.
Most importantly, Rei didn't have his signature Death Scythe or his Partner Seto with him. His hood was pulled up, obscuring his face. To the thugs, he was just a small boy—or perhaps a girl—standing in their path.
"Who am I? Well, let's see. If I say I'm a guard of Baron Cisne's House, would that be easy to understand?"
"...What?"
The thug stared for a moment, then burst into a mocking laugh. The laughter spread through the crowd like a contagion. To them, the idea of a child standing as the mansion's defender was the height of comedy.
They saw Keep's body trembling and assumed he was shaking with suppressed laughter. In reality, Keep was paralyzed with fear, haunted by the memory of the afternoon—the sight of Rei clad in the compressed, visible red mana of the Flame Emperor's Crimson Armor and the suffocating heat it radiated. That display had carved a deep scar into Keep's soul. The three knights were shaking just as violently.
Ignoring the terrified nobles, the thug continued to jeer.
"Listen, kid. I’m telling you this for your own good. Go home, crawl into bed, and go to sleep. What's about to happen here is a bit too much for a little brat like you."
"Hey, hey, hold on. If the kid says he’s the guard of Baron Cisne's House, that makes him the enemy, right? Can't just let him walk. Watching a cocky brat like this wail in tears... now that’s a real thrill, isn't it?"
"Hah, you’ve got twisted tastes. But we can't waste time. What if the primary targets escape while we’re playing with the kid? Master Keep might be able to cover up a raid, but it won’t be funny if the Baron reaches the guards' guardhouse."
"...Hmph, fine. But I'm taking care of this brat myself! No complaints, got it!?"
The man who wanted to torment Rei didn't want to risk the raid's success. He stepped forward, brandishing a club.
Rei watched him approach with a look of bored exasperation. That look only enraged the man further; he wanted to see Rei begging for his life.
"Hey, you shitty brat! Still think you're safe!? Take this!"
The man raised his club aggressively, but Rei didn't flinch.
"Sigh. ...Why are idiots always like this?"
Rei's soft mutter incensed the man to the breaking point. He swung the club down with all his might. He didn't aim for the head—not out of mercy, but because he wanted to see Rei's face twisted in agony.
He never expected Rei to catch the club effortlessly with one hand.
"Wha—!?"
"Is now really the time to be standing there slack-jawed? ...Hup!"
Rei caught the club with his left hand and delivered a sharp kick to the man's midsection. The man was sent tumbling several meters back across the pavement. Groaning in pain, he scrambled up and stared at Rei, unable to process what had just happened.
"Now then. What were you going to do to me? I'd like to hear that one more time."
Rei tossed the club aside and reached into the Void. In an instant, the massive scythe—his trademark Death Scythe—appeared in his hand from the Misty Ring.
Suddenly, the mob found themselves surrounded. Phron, Brasso, Sergio, Johanna, Dietz, and a host of other adventurers gathered by Phron, as well as the members of the former Mobile Unit, emerged from the darkness to box them in.