Chapter 64. Frontier, Therefore

"Hey."

As the end of the alley came into view, the assassins began their move. They stopped following quietly and made their presence known. Just a few more steps and they would reach the main road, so the narrow and dark alley was advantageous for disposing of a person.

"Yan?"

"Do you know me?"

Whoosh!

The moment they confirmed their target, the assassins drew their swords and rushed in. Their faces and bodies were tightly covered with black hoods, making it seem like shadows were attacking.

Clang! Clang!

Berik reflexively drew his sword and met them head-on. The clash was so sharp that sparks flew from the blades, a clear sign that the attackers were using all their strength.

Whoosh!

And that also meant they knew Berik's skills. They understood that if they couldn't take him down in one blow, there would be no chance.

A few of them kept Berik at bay while the remaining one aimed to stab him. Attacks on his cheeks, neck, and sides were relentless.

"Huh?"

The swords clashed, and a struggle to push each other back ensued. Although Berik hadn't unleashed his full power as a swordsman, his opponent was pushing back with considerable force.

Watching this, Yan took a step back and observed the situation. The way they held their swords and maintained distance from their target was not ordinary. These were not rough men from the back alleys but individuals trained systematically.

Judging by the situation, they were likely directly connected to Mollin.

"Berik! That guy! Yeah, don't kill him!"

"If I don't kill him? Should I cut off his arm?"

"Know your place…."

"Ugh!"

Berik asked this while thrusting his sword into the thigh of one of the smaller men.

'Strange. If they know Berik's skills, they should also know that I'm a mana user.'

No one was attacking Yan. If Mollin, who knew the power of mana, were involved, it would be natural to target and eliminate Yan, who was both a goal and an obstacle.

Swish.

At that moment, numerous shadows stretched behind Yan. Over a dozen armed thugs entered the alley from the main road.

"Huh. I see, that makes sense."

More than expected. They were well-prepared.

Yan tried to gauge the number of enemies, but it was difficult in the darkness. When they drew their swords, Yan stepped back and smiled.

"You all must be tired from working at night."

"Cut the crap. You're Yan, right?"

"Yeah. I'm Yan."

The reason it took some time from planning the assassination to executing it seemed clear. Not only was there a lack of opportunity, but they also needed to gather people.

Swoosh.

Yan opened his Golden Eyes. Mana swirled, creating a subtle breeze, and those who saw a mage for the first time were startled and hesitated.

But it was only for a moment.

They approached, relying on their overwhelming numbers.

"Aren't you all scared? Why are you doing this?"

"Shut up! Just give us your life."

"Do you know how much money is on your head?"

In fact, even after repeated training to earn the title of mage, there were almost no useful spells for a mana user. Mana could only resonate with itself, far from the glory of flipping the world that he once praised.

"Die!"

Whoosh!

Clang!

The man at the front charged first. Yan also drew his sword and swung his arm to deflect the attack to the side. At the same time, he grabbed the man's face with his left hand.

"What-"

Swoosh!

Then he poured all his mana into the man. Just like he did in the training ground with Berik, an invisible force surged into the man's insides.

"Ku, ku, ku…."

The man staggered and retreated, and the thugs hesitated for a moment. Blood flowed from every orifice—eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. The man, wiping his face, trembled in panic.

'This isn't working.'

Yan frowned slightly as he looked at his hand. It was a simple attack spell, not one he used often, but it should have been effective. Normally, the man's head should have exploded.

"What, what is this-"

"Idiot. Just stab him, why are you hesitating!"

"You all seem to know each other well."

"What good will it do you to know that, you're about to die!"

Judging by their crude and vulgar language, they didn't seem to be from the palace. They looked like commoners, possibly from Brats.

While Yan was pondering, the thugs left the blood-soaked man behind and charged simultaneously.

"Yaaah!"

Swish!

A flash of blades in front of them—it was Berik. He had already knocked down the men who were attacking him and rushed over. Blood dripped from Berik's hair. Looking behind, the ground was flooded with blood, all from the thugs.

"I'm so tired, and these bastards are making me exercise at night?"

"Berik, did you kill them?"

"Don't know. Just stabbed them."

"…Berik. Try to keep one alive, please."

If they weren't from the Brats territory, he needed to know where they came from. Cooperating with Mollin meant they were obstacles to Yan.

Swoosh.

Yan gave the order and grabbed Berik's shoulder. His blood-soaked hair fluttered in the night breeze, and Berik's vitality began to return. The clouds that had covered the moon dispersed, and the surroundings gradually brightened.

"Haa… Maybe I'm just tired? My power is weaker today."

"Even if you say it, do you really have to act that way?"

"Get out of the way!! Bastards!!"

Crack!

Berik's voice, strained with fatigue, tore through the air. At the same time, someone's head was knocked off.

Swish!

It happened so quickly that even as blood spurted from the man's neck, the thugs stood there in shock. The speed was beyond their comprehension.

"Uuuaaaah!"

"K, kill him!"

"Forward, forward!"

"Don't push, damn it!"

Berik, leaning against the wall and swinging his sword, was a blur. Cries of pain echoed from all directions, but it was impossible to tell whose they were. Some tried to reach Yan, but he was already in a defensive stance, deflecting their attacks with his sword.

Swish!

It didn't seem like human movement. The rain of blades from all sides barely grazed him, giving him no room to maneuver. He deflected, thrust, and cut reflexively.

"Uuuaaaah!"

"Damn! Aaaah!"

The narrow alley, which should have been a disadvantage for Berik, turned out to be the opposite. In such a confined space, every swing of his sword could reach a vital point. The alley had become a killing ground for Berik.

"Haa…."

A short while later, a pile of bodies and a pool of blood. Berik, except for his eyes, was completely covered in red.

"Keep one alive."

"Here, he's still alive. Twitching."

Berik tapped the back of someone's head with his sword and then smiled, clenching his fist.

"Ugh! Feels good!"

It was a different kind of pleasure from defeating a strong opponent. The feeling of slaughter due to the overwhelming power difference. Sometimes, instead of a fierce and brutal battle, this wasn't bad. The cheap thrill of swordplay, Berik savored it to the fullest.

"Joyful! Refreshing! Satisfying! Hahaha!"

'He's a madman.'

Yan left the berserk Berik alone and approached the group that had come first. He removed their hoods one by one to check their faces.

A man who was groaning. This was the one Yan had told to keep alive. Feeling his upper body, the well-defined muscles gave him confidence. This was a man who lived by his body.

"Seems familiar…."

"Really? Let me see."

"Looks like someone I've seen before."

"Hmm. I don't know. Just ugly."

The man groaned and twitched his left hand. He then covered his cheek with his palm. Yan thought it was just a dying man's futile struggle.

But it was more than that.

"Uuuaaaah!"

"What, what is this? Why is he like this?"

"Damn!"

The man had a ring on his left middle finger. It seemed to contain a poison needle for suicide.

The man's body shook violently as he screamed in agony. Yan reflexively tried to stop him, but it was too late. He could only stuff a cloth into the man's mouth as a temporary measure.

"Ugh…."

"Ugh, his face is really messed up."

Berik, who usually didn't flinch, took a step back, muttering. The necrosis from the poison needle spread rapidly, and the flesh began to rot, transforming his appearance into something horrific. Even his parents wouldn't recognize him.

"I'll move the survivor and this one to the mansion. Go get some people."

The man had intended to completely hide his identity by disfiguring his face. This meant he was actively involved in the plan. If his identity remained a mystery, Mollin would be safe.

At that moment, Berik kicked the man's side.

"Should I carry him? But he's heavy, so maybe cut him a bit."

"Berik."

"Just kidding. Just kidding."

The direction to the main road was blocked by a pile of bodies. Berik carefully pushed through the corpses and soon the lights of the guard posts, which had been intentionally turned off for days, came back on.

* * *

"Did they succeed?"

Mak, anxiously looking out the window, couldn't help but drink wine. Ignoring the alcohol that trickled down his chin.

"Over ten. In that narrow alley, even a slight graze would result in over a dozen wounds. There's no way they could survive."

Degoor, who had been sitting silently on the sofa, replied. Even if they failed, Petreio, their subordinate, would never mess up the cleanup. With a poison needle that could melt a face, the connection between them and Mollin's group would be buried forever.

"What if they fail?"

"Mak. You tend to worry too much."

"This is about making plans!"

Bang!

Mak slammed the table in frustration. Mollin glared at him, trying to calm him down.

"You're going to wake everyone up."

"Sorry, sir."

"Petreio is a skilled man. Though he's old, he was once the deputy commander of the prince's direct security detail in the palace. Most importantly, he's a man of honor, so there will be no loose ends. You know that, and I know that."

Just two young men.

Berik was often rumored to be a skilled swordsman, but Mollin had only heard it in passing. Yan was a mana user, but he was only sixteen, and his limits were clear.

"Using mana isn't something you can do repeatedly. Facing over a dozen strong men, he would tire out first."

"And even if, by some chance, they really did fail, how could they easily touch us without evidence? If we die, another investigation team will come."

That was the situation they most wanted to avoid. Mak finally calmed down, apologizing and shaking his head.

"Sorry. I, I was a bit excited."

At that moment,

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Someone pounded on the door roughly. The three men stiffened and swallowed hard. In the middle of the night, there were only two people who could come to them.

Petreio, having succeeded in his mission.

Or….

"Wh, who…."

Creak.

Red hair visible through the door crack. It looked as if he was covered in blood, his entire body a deep red, as if his skin had been peeled off. Berik wiped his face and smiled.

"…Were you waiting for Petreio?"

"What…."

Mollin, also startled, stood up without realizing it.

"Follow me as you are."

"Wh, what insolence!"

Swish.

In response to their shouts, Berik drew his sword. He then pointed it at Degoor's neck, getting so close that it seemed he might cut him at any moment.

"Yan said to kill him if he wanted to."

"Lowly scum! We are from the palace…."

"I know. But this is the frontier."

Frontier.

A place that opens up many possibilities.

"The frontier doesn't care about such things. Yan doesn't."