Chapter 70: Assassination (3)
Harang’s words were true.
He knew the moment he entered the room.
That he was a formidable being.
The existence behind Viscount Kilkearn possessed martial prowess that ranked among the top of those he had met since coming to the outside world.
He wasn't a swordsman.
To be precise, he was an assassin before he was a swordsman.
His emotionless gaze, reminiscent of a reptile, his breathing, his footsteps—everything indicated it.
That he and this man were of the same kind.
What was strange was that Viscount Kilkearn seemed to be unaware of this fact.
‘It didn't feel like he was treating his own guard. Does that mean…… this person was hiding his true self even from Viscount Kilkearn?’
Thinking that it might be possible, Harang asked again.
“I’ll ask again. Why didn’t you save the Viscount? You seemed to have more than enough ability to do so.”
In truth, he hadn't expected an answer.
Like most assassins, this man, who had hidden his skills until now, also seemed to be a person with many secrets.
However, the opponent surprisingly opened his mouth readily.
“Why do you think so?”
“Just? Because it seemed like it?”
“You have good eyes.”
“Thank you.”
“Alright. In respect for a young man with astounding talent, I will give you an answer. I did so because there was no particular reason to stop it.”
“No particular reason?”
“Yes, no particular reason. I am the butler who knows all the affairs, big and small, of Viscount Kilkearn’s territory. I will assist the Viscount’s young son until he comes of age, and in that process, I am in a position with more than enough ability to gain various benefits. Dealing with the still snot-nosed son is much easier than dealing with the Viscount himself, so wouldn't there be no reason to block the attack?”
“So you were planning to take matters into your own hands someday, even if it wasn't me.”
“That’s about right. Today seemed like a suitable time. I can just kill you and pin all the blame on you. No, that sounds strange. You were the one who actually killed Viscount Kilkearn, weren't you?”
“That’s true.”
“You, do people often tell you you’re peculiar?”
“How did you know?”
Harang asked back, startled, and the butler replied with an even more dumbfounded expression.
“Then is what you’re doing now normal? Not only did you come 찾아와서 to wring the lord’s neck because of a squabble, but you’re not even thinking of running away and are just casually throwing questions?”
“I was planning to run away soon…… but if I say I’m running away, will you let me go?”
“Can’t do that.”
“That’s regrettable.”
“I regret it too. To have only now discovered a talent as overflowing as yours. If I had raised you from early on, you would have grown into an even more splendid being.”
The butler wore a genuinely regretful expression.
Leaving aside the fact that they had met as enemies, he fully acknowledged the future potential and possibilities Harang possessed.
However, such an appearance also contained the confidence that he was superior to his opponent.
Harang didn't find that particularly strange.
It was because he thought he was an existence qualified for it.
‘Probably stronger than Dukan Iter.’
It was astonishing.
Who was the strongest being Harang had met since coming to the outside world?
He couldn't pick just one, but he could narrow it down to about three.
The head of the Portville Swordsmanship Family, a member of the Black Hydra, and Dukan Iter were them.
Yet the assassin before his eyes was even stronger than them.
He hadn't crossed swords with him yet, but he was certain.
As Harang thought this far, an energy completely different from before began to emanate from his body.
Wooooooong……
Quietly.
Very stealthily.
An energy, so carefully emitted that even the formidable butler couldn't notice it, began to encroach upon the Viscount’s room.
Meanwhile, the opponent, regardless of whether Harang was looking at him or not, was lost in deep thought.
As if to say, ‘You are no match for me.’
Thus, he sometimes paced around, sometimes muttered to himself, falling deeper into contemplation.
About a minute or so passed like that.
He, who had stopped abruptly as if time had frozen, looked at Harang with snake-like eyes and said.
“It won’t do.”
“What won’t do?”
“It’s a waste. It’s too much of a waste, so it won’t do. I was planning to kill you to eliminate future trouble, but I’ve decided not to.”
“Then can I go?”
“No. Don’t go. Come to me. Become my disciple and be reborn as a true assassin. That is the only path left for you.”
Eyes burning fiercely.
From the butler’s gaze, a desire even hotter than that of a swordsman before a treasured sword could be felt.
Of course, it wasn't the outcome Harang wanted.
Hadn't he already rolled around in the village for 15 years?
Harang, whose expressionless face broke for the first time, showed a look of disgust and said.
“I refuse.”
“You refuse?”
“Yes. I strongly, very much refuse.”
“Whether you refuse or not is not important. What’s important is that I have decided so.”
“Does that mean you intend to forcibly take me as your disciple?”
“That’s right.”
“I see.”
“Now, you understand, right? Then……”
“I refuse.”
“……”
A sharp answer that left no room for negotiation.
The butler fell silent.
Harang also did not open his mouth for a while.
Even during that, an unknown energy was flowing from his body, but the butler did not notice it.
To be precise, before he could, Harang reopened the conversation.
“No matter what you say to coax me, I will not accept your proposal. Now, what will you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Literally. I asked what you will do with me now. Will you kill me?”
“Are you asking seriously?”
“I am asking seriously.”
“Normally, I would have killed you, but this time I’ve decided not to. I will somehow subdue you and then devise a method. Whether by using drugs or magic.”
“That’s not a very pleasing outcome.”
“It’s not very pleasing to me either. So I ask you. Listen to me quietly. Then I will show you a new world you have never experienced before.”
“I’m sorry. I refuse.”
“Hmm. How can I persuade you?”
The butler’s expression became serious.
He coveted him that much.
The young man was clearly strong even in his current state, but if he inherited the legacy of the Great One, he was an existence with the potential to be reborn as an even more formidable being.
Perhaps he could even follow in His footsteps and bring about an era of assassins once again.
Then what would become of him?
Beyond simply becoming an important figure in the organization, he might even carve his name in history.
As the master who discovered and nurtured the second Great One.
It was while he was having such thoughts.
The butler suddenly realized.
That his own state was somewhat strange.
‘……Why am I being so careless right now?’
That was right.
It was strange.
He was usually a person of meticulous character, whose strength was never letting down his guard, even when dealing with a child.
No matter how much the opponent before him was a greenhorn less than half his age, he shouldn't be this relaxed.
‘No, moreover, the opponent is not just any greenhorn.’
Harang had already secured a victory against Dukan Iter, an outstanding Graduate.
It couldn't have been mere coincidence.
Considering the skill he showed when assassinating Viscount Kilkearn, and his resistance to poison, he possessed martial prowess that warranted his full vigilance.
But, why?
Why could he be so leisurely, so lost in deep thought that he was oblivious to what his opponent was even doing…….
Shushuk.
His thoughts hadn't even finished.
The butler turned his head.
Then, Harang, who was already swinging his sword, came into view.
He felt the sharp wind, flying horizontally, heavily laden with dark energy.
Startled, he quickly drew the sword from his waist and assumed a defensive stance.
But it was too late.
Thwack.
……Thud!
Harang’s sword wind, striking a step ahead, sliced through the butler’s neck.
Shadow Wind.
A village swordsmanship technique combining dark and wind attributes, a method that displayed performance superior even to Dark Lightning for surprise attacks.
Thump!
A moment later, Harang, seeing the headless body also fall powerlessly to the floor, smiled faintly and nodded.
“It worked.”
It was a success.
He had tried using ‘Acting Lowly’ for the first time in a real battle to induce carelessness, and he was greatly satisfied that he could settle the match much more easily than expected.
If he had fought properly, a bigger commotion would have occurred, so it was fortunate that it ended relatively quietly and quickly.
Of course, this wasn't the end.
An action he had been performing like a habit at some point.
Collecting spoils of war.
Harang, recalling that, smiled a bit more deeply.
He thought that such a skilled person, moreover an assassin, would have quite a lot of equipment he could use.
Even the sword currently in the opponent’s hand possessed a sharpness not inferior to his own, so his mouth was watering.
Licking his lips, he moved quickly to search the corpse.
And a moment later.
“……”
The head that had rolled from the corpse’s neck.
Harang, who confirmed the nape of that neck, muttered with a serious expression.
“Tattoo.”
A black hydra Tattoo, and the number 9 engraved below it.
His eyes, belatedly confirming that the opponent was a member of the ‘Black Hydra’, shone deeper and darker than when he first set out on the assassination.
* * *
After neatly disposing of Viscount Kilkearn, Harang did not immediately leave the viscount’s territory but wandered the streets with his hood pulled up.
It was to organize his complicated thoughts.
The thought that came to him most strongly was ‘regret’.
It couldn't be helped.
He had once again encountered a member of the Black Hydra, whom he considered the only clue to the village, but he had completely blown that good fortune.
‘Of course, he didn't seem like someone who would easily open his mouth even if tortured, but still, if I had kept him alive, I might have gained something…….’
Of course, he had separately asked Sheratiya Viyan to investigate information about the Black Hydra, but honestly, he felt there would be limitations, which made him even more regretful.
That regret was making it difficult for Harang to easily leave Viscount Kilkearn’s territory.
It was then.
Strange graffiti written on the wall of some alley.
Several men were cursing and wiping it off, something that looked like letters, or perhaps a drawing.
It happened often.
People who secretly wrote meaningless graffiti and ran away could be seen frequently even in Marzen.
The problem wasn't that.
‘……Godok’s script!’
The cipher Harang had created when he was part of the village, to secretly communicate with other Godoks, avoiding the administrator’s eyes!
Seeing it written there, he, as if possessed, checked the contents on the wall and engraved it in his mind.
[December 17th, 8 PM. Let’s meet at the entrance of the forest east of Viscount Kilkearn’s territory. - To all brothers who can read this - ]
Harang’s eyes gleamed.
Tomorrow evening.
He could meet other Peers.