While Rei and Seto were rampaging around Dailas's mansion—or more precisely, its surroundings—Fusetsu's assassins were mobilizing on a large scale inside.
However, despite their numbers, their methods of combat were nowhere near as flashy as Rei's or Seto's.
They were assassins. That was only natural.
Fundamentally, they avoided doing anything to reveal their presence, instead searching for evidence that would prove Dailas's connection to the Dolan Workshop—or, failing that, evidence revealing a side of Dailas entirely different from the public image known to Egginis's residents.
"How is it? Find anything?"
"No luck. We've searched all sorts of likely places, but nothing yet."
Crow had encountered a comrade in the hallway, and the reply he received was that nothing had been found yet.
The words stirred a faint sense of frustration in him, but he quickly steadied himself.
They had originally been searching for evidence on Orban's orders, operating on the suspicion that Dailas was dirty. Yet that evidence had still eluded them.
Given Dailas's apparent level of caution, Crow hadn't expected results the moment they started looking.
Under the circumstances, that was simply the reality they faced.
Even understanding that, however, there was no question of giving up the search here. They were raiding the mansion precisely because discreet investigation had turned up nothing.
...In truth, the stronger motivation was retaliation for the attack on Fusetsu's hideout. But that aside.
Having gone this far, they absolutely needed to uncover some form of proof. Unfortunately, no reports of any such discovery had come in thus far.
(Is this really going to be fine? If it turns out Dailas really is as clean as his reputation suggests... that would be no laughing matter.)
Crow found himself thinking the same thing Rei likely was, out there fighting outside the mansion.
No—Crow wasn't the only one. Most of the Fusetsu assassins currently inside Dailas's mansion were probably entertaining similar doubts.
Which was exactly why they needed to find evidence as quickly as possible, but...
A sharp metallic clang suddenly reached Crow's ears.
He didn't hesitate or wonder what it was. It was unmistakably the sound of combat—and not from Rei fighting outside the mansion, but from a clash between an assassin and guards within.
(Spotted again, huh?)
This wasn't the first time metallic sounds had echoed through the halls. Dozens of assassins had infiltrated the mansion and were operating simultaneously. Even if every one of them possessed considerable skill, with this many people moving at once, a bit of bad luck was all it took to get discovered.
As a result, Crow himself had already crossed paths with guards and ended up in combat several times. The fact that the fighting hadn't escalated into a larger skirmish was a testament to the Fusetsu assassins' superior skill—their engagements ended quickly.
...Whether those guards survived or died depended entirely on the assassin they faced. Among Fusetsu's ranks, some abhorred unnecessary killing, while others slaughtered every enemy without exception. In that sense, luck dictated everything when it came to a guard's survival.
Naturally, a guard who could defeat an assassin would live. But the gap in ability between adventurers hired as guards and Fusetsu assassins was overwhelming. Under these conditions, luck was ultimately all that stood between the guards and death.
(Still, better than fighting Rei.)
Crow pictured the battle likely unfolding outside the mansion, then turned back to his search... or rather, was about to, when he sensed someone approaching and reflexively readied his dagger.
The blade was never swung. He recognized the approaching figure as a Fusetsu comrade. Had it been an enemy, he would have slashed or thrown the dagger without a moment's hesitation.
"What is it?"
"Crow, give us a hand. We found a suspicious location!"
The man's voice was unmistakably charged with excitement. He had discovered a place that might contain the very evidence they had been unable to find through all their efforts—of course he was excited.
Crow's expression turned serious.
"Really?"
"Yeah. But we're having trouble opening it, and more importantly, they absolutely refuse to let us hold that room. A sizable force is coming to take it back."
"A sizable force...? With Rei wreaking havoc outside, they still have that much combat power to spare?"
"Troublingly, yes. That's exactly why it seems even more suspicious."
"Understood. Let's go."
Crow made the call instantly. Letting the enemy retake that room under the current circumstances was too dangerous. He agreed completely—they needed to secure that suspicious location themselves, no matter what.
As Crow had noted, it would have been perfectly reasonable for most of the enemy forces to have been drawn outside by Rei's assault. Yet here they were, still holding that much combat power in reserve and actively deploying it. The claim that something suspicious had been found was unlikely to be a misjudgment.
He and the man who had come to fetch him set off together. Along the way, several more comrades joined them—others who had received the same call for reinforcements.
"How did it go?" Crow asked tersely as they ran.
The men who had joined him shook their heads in unison. Crow had expected as much, so he wasn't disappointed. The newcomers, for their part, saw no need to ask Crow the same question—if he was inquiring about their progress, it meant his side hadn't found any worthwhile leads either.
After that, they ran in silence—until...
"Enemies!"
The man running at the front of the group shouted sharply. At those words, everyone readied their weapons mid-stride, preparing for combat at a moment's notice.
Ahead of them, at a T-junction in the corridor, several men appeared from the left.
(Tch. Just as I thought.)
Seeing them, Crow's irritation flared. The men who appeared were clearly not ordinary guards—not adventurers hired by Dailas. The matching metal armor they wore made it impossible to mistake them for common adventurers.
Of course, there were parties of adventurers who wore matching equipment, or employers who issued uniform armor to their hires. But Crow could tell this was neither. And he wasn't alone—every assassin in his group understood the same thing.
They needed to strike before the enemy noticed them.
With that decision made, roughly half the group surged forward, accelerating sharply, while the other half hurled daggers to provide covering fire.
"What—!"
The men in metal armor noticed Crow's group only at that moment. Had the assassins been wearing metal armor themselves, the enemy might have detected them sooner. But assassins preferred leather—or even simple clothing—over heavy, noisy metal, no matter how high its defensive value. And so the men in armor were slow to react. Fatally slow.
A dagger thrown by one of the assassins buried its blade squarely in the face of the man who had shouted first.
"Guh..."
He crumpled to the floor. The others, of course, registered the assassins' presence immediately. In truth, they should have recognized it as an enemy encounter the moment their comrade had shouted. Without so much as a glance at the fallen man, they braced for a counterattack.
Had Rei been present, he would have immediately noticed the difference in caliber from the guards he had fought outside. Those men had turned to look when a comrade fell—a fatal habit in combat, especially against killers of Rei, Seto, or Crow's caliber.
These opponents showed not the slightest sign of distress when an ally was cut down. They simply and methodically readied themselves to fight back.
(Tough.)
Crow closed the distance, making that assessment as he read the enemy's demeanor. But tough didn't mean he could afford to hold back. If anything, the judgment that they were formidable only made him run faster.
Before long, he slipped inside the range of an opponent wielding a longsword.
The man closest to Crow, fully aware of his speed, brought the blade down in a powerful vertical strike. He carried no spear—he had likely judged a longsword more practical than a polearm in such confined quarters. And the strike itself was clearly a cut above anything the outside guards had mustered.
But Crow sidestepped effortlessly, kicking off the floor to launch himself diagonally past the descending blade, and drove his dagger into the man's knee joint.
Metal armor or not, joints required gaps. Without them, the wearer couldn't move. And where there were gaps, all that defensive plating was meaningless.
"Gwaaah—!"
His knee severed, the man collapsed to the floor. Crow didn't spare him a glance. He was already moving on to the next target.
True to his name, he skimmed along the ground like a shadow, stabbing blade after blade into knee joints as he went.
He wasn't the only one fighting, of course. The other assassins engaged their own targets. Unlike Crow, who focused on knees, some aimed for elbows, others for faces.
In a head-on fight, the men in metal armor might well have been formidable opponents. But Crow's group had no intention of fighting head-on. The result was a one-sided slaughter—the armored men were cut down without ever mounting what could be called a proper fight.
"Alright. Leave them and move on to the room."
Had Rei been here, he might have stopped to strip weapons and armor from the bodies under the guise of "salvage." But Crow's group had no such inclination. And with no time to waste, they certainly couldn't afford to linger over such things now.
They needed to find proof that Dailas was connected to the Dolan Workshop—and as much additional evidence of his misdeeds as they could lay hands on. That meant hurrying to the room where a lead had reportedly been found.
"There! ...Tch, they're here, just as expected!"
The man who had fetched Crow hissed the words in a low voice that wouldn't carry. Crow looked down the corridor and immediately understood. In front of one of the doors, assassins in Fusetsu were fighting men in the same metal armor they had just faced.
Unlike Crow's group, who had caught the enemy off guard and seized the momentum in an instant, these assassins were fighting on the front lines to protect their comrades who were searching inside the room. They had no choice but to face the armored men head-on.
Given the nature of a direct confrontation, the bodies scattered across the floor included a fair number of their own. Crow felt the weight of that loss, but priority came first—neutralize the enemy and secure the room.
Without breaking stride, Crow and his group launched a surprise attack on the armored men's unprotected rear.
The armored soldiers showed no sign of noticing Crow's group closing in almost silently from behind. Meanwhile, the assassins guarding the door were well aware of their approach and fought all the more flamboyantly, drawing the enemy's eyes to keep them looking forward.
Concentrated entirely on the threat in front of them, the armored men were suddenly set upon from behind.
Metal armor provided formidable defense, but that meant nothing against a blade piercing the gaps at the joints—a fatal blow by any measure.
One man fell. Then a second. Then a third. Only after those bodies hit the floor did the armored soldiers finally realize they were being attacked from behind.
"Enemies! Enemy reinforcements!"
As one of them shouted the alarm, Crow was already among them, dagger in hand.