“I’ll ask again. Are you really serious about this?”
“Do I look like someone who has nothing better to do than to come all the way here just to say something insincere?”
“As I said, I’m just a petty thief, a mere fence, nothing more.”
— The Faceless One, and at the same time, the 13th Thief Master of the Veneto Thieves’ Guild, Monica XIII, spoke boldly.
“But you are from the continent’s greatest Assassin family, the one who walks the night of the world. Why would someone like you want to learn the cheap tricks of a lowly thief?”
“Is there any reason I can’t?”
“There’s more than enough reason.”
“Really? Let’s hear it.”
“In front of the master of the Star and Dagger Crest, the [Faceless Stance] is nothing more than a worthless trick, unworthy even of being called swordsmanship.”
Monica spoke.
“And if word gets to ‘that person’ that Young Master Sien, who should be busy mastering the sword forms of the family, is learning a mere thief’s swordplay, that day will be your last.”
No one in this world can escape her eyes and ears.
“You needn’t worry, Master. I swear under the name of the Star and Dagger Crest.”
Sien spoke.
“Didn’t you say earlier that you didn’t come here as a member of the Nightwalker Family?”
“If I don’t at least use this name, you won’t trust a word I say, so what choice do I have?”
“Your position flips according to the situation, doesn’t it?”
“Is there anything wrong with flipping your gender as easily?”
“…Well, let’s just say so.”
Monica swept her black-blue hair behind her ear and replied in a voice tinged with exasperation.
“Even so, the [Faceless Stance] is the lifeblood of our Thieves’ Guild. Even if you walk the night, I can’t just reveal our trade secrets.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not the kind of thief who takes another’s secrets for free.”
Sien spoke.
“One hundred kilograms of gold bars.”
With those words, Sien pulled something from his robe. It was a parchment document.
“That’s your fee for teaching me the [Faceless Stance].”
It was an official Bill of Exchange issued in the names of the Republic’s National Bank and the Duchy of Nightwalker.
“…Are you serious???”
“Have you ever seen me lie?”
A hundred kilograms of gold bars—thirty thousand crowns in gold coins of the Republic.
The sum Sien offered was simply staggering.
But to the master of a Thieves’ Guild operating out of the most extravagant city in the world, it wasn’t an utterly unimaginable amount.
“So? Isn’t it too much money to refuse?”
“Well, yes… it certainly is a lot.”
Even Monica found the sum shocking enough to make her lose her senses, but that was all.
“But no matter how outrageous an offer you make…”
“There’s one more thing.”
“And what is that?”
“I’ll perfect that stance for you.”
“…What did you say?”
“If you teach me the Faceless Stance, I’ll refine it into a form more perfect than it’s ever been.”
Sien replied.
“In the process of perfecting the stance, perhaps a little of the ‘Nightwalker Family’s Sword Forms’ might slip in without me realizing it. And I’ll teach that to you.”
“……!”
“Don’t you want to see the [Faceless Stance] reborn perfectly in the hands of one who walks the night?”
At Sien’s words, Monica’s face turned pale.
“I think it’s a deal where neither of us loses.”
“Do you think I could possibly covet the sword of the Nightwalker Family and survive?”
“Who said I’d be handing over sword forms or sword manuals? It’s just a matter of a little exchange here and there.”
“So you’re just going to suck me dry and shut my mouth?”
“Whether you believe me or not is your choice.”
“I don’t understand.”
Monica XIII, Thief Master, could not hide her confusion and placed the mask she was holding over her face.
At once, her long black-blue hair vanished like a lie, and from behind the mask, a man’s unreadable voice sounded.
“The continent’s strongest assassination sword—the successor of the Nightwalker Family’s Nine Sword Forms. Why would you risk leaking even a sliver of that art just to learn the sword of a mere thief?”
“Because it’s worth it.”
“You speak as if you’ve seen the stance for yourself.”
“Why do you think I haven’t?”
Sien shot back. Of course, it was a lie. As Sien was now, he had never actually seen Monica XIII’s Faceless Stance. But the Sien of that day was different.
[Faceless Stance].
The sword art learned by the thieves of the Veneto Thieves’ Guild, so crude and shoddy it was almost shameful to call it swordsmanship.
“Well, I won’t deny that the Faceless Stance is inferior to our family’s sword—at least when it comes to killing.”
Compared to the Nightwalker Family’s Nine Sword Forms, the continent’s greatest Assassin family, it couldn’t even stand at their toes. Sien had no need to deny that fact.
“Then why on earth do you want to learn such an inferior sword?”
The Faceless One asked, seemingly unable to understand. Sien shrugged and answered confidently.
“—Because I like that it’s just a worthless trick.”
***
In the end, a sword is nothing but a tool to accomplish a purpose. It can never be the purpose itself.
An Assassin learns the sword to kill.
A bodyguard learns the sword to protect their lord; a conqueror’s knight learns it to expand their lord’s domain; a traveler sets out on a long journey with the sword for self-defense, to preserve their own life.
To kill, to protect themselves or something precious, to take from others.
Each grips a sword with their own purpose and reason, and that becomes the ideal of the sword—called [Stance].
Then, for what purpose do thieves learn the sword?
—To escape safely.
To make it out with stolen goods, to evade pursuers and preserve their life, to do whatever it takes to survive and escape alive, thieves learn the sword for that.
Crash!
Sien rolled over the ground. Dirt and sand clung all over his body.
“Wrong.”
A little outside the city, under the cold moonlight pouring down onto the night beach.
Sien tumbled across the sand as if he’d thrown his body into it. Watching this, the Faceless One, wearing the fool’s mask, shook their head.
“I told you to roll like a lazy donkey on the ground. Don’t mind dignity or propriety.”
“I did roll, just as you said…”
“Yes, you did roll.”
The Faceless One, the Thief Master, spoke.
“But not like a lazy donkey, more like a ‘dignified Assassin of the Nightwalker Family.’”
“How do I roll more like a donkey than this? Why don’t you demonstrate?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“To be honest, it’s extremely undignified.”
“…Are you sure you want to teach me?”
“As you can see, I’m teaching you.”
At the Faceless One’s reply, Sien fell silent. Because it was true.
The Faceless Stance was, fundamentally, not a sword for killing or for some noble purpose.
It was swordplay for ‘escaping with stolen goods.’
Rolling clumsily on the ground like a lazy donkey to dodge and evade.
“Doesn’t the lazy donkey metaphor suit you?”
“It does.”
“Then roll across the ground like a donkey with the shakes.”
“…Are you serious?”
Sien asked, flabbergasted by the Thief Master’s words.
He had no intention of maintaining dignity. But actually lying down and flailing on the ground made him feel strangely embarrassed.
A thief has no dignity or honor to uphold. All that matters is to survive and escape, struggling ugly and ridiculous as it may be, no matter what it takes. That is the [Faceless Stance], which has not a single speck of nobility or pride.
“It starts with abandoning your face.”
—The world’s most lowly stance.
As the Faceless One said, it wasn’t even worthy of being called swordsmanship, just a worthless trick.
“Alright, let’s try again.”
That was exactly why Sien insisted on learning this stance.
Crash!
Again he threw himself down, took a breakfall, and rolled over the beach, heedless of the sand stuck from head to toe, ignoring how ugly and ridiculous he looked.
“So, do I look like a mad donkey now?”
“You’re really putting on a show.”
“…Do you want to get stabbed?”
“Ha, it’s a compliment, don’t get me wrong.”
Watching Sien, the Faceless One took off their mask. Black-blue hair streamed down, and a clear, cool woman’s voice continued.
“Now, it’s time to dodge my attacks by rolling like a donkey.”
The Thief Master, Monica, spoke with the cold dignity of a poker face.
Srrng.
Several throwing knives appeared between her fingers as if from nowhere.
Whoosh!
“You might get stabbed before you know it.”
“!”
The words were barely out when a knife flew at Sien. He dove to the side, rolling on the ground, and knives rained down endlessly.
So he twisted and rolled desperately, dodging again and again. Rolling here and there, moving so ugly and ridiculous it was almost laughable.
Sien, covered head to toe in sand, finally got up.
“I see—if I’m about to get a hole in my belly, I don’t have time to worry about dignity.”
“Living isn’t always cool, you know.”
It’s ugly, almost laughable. That’s the mud of life.
“Especially for bottom-feeders like us.”
“You think we’re any different?”
“The ones who walk the night live and die in style, don’t they?”
Monica answered with a bitter smile. At her words, Sien burst out laughing.
“Well, that’s not entirely wrong.”
“So, let’s end the sample lesson here.”
Monica continued.
“For the record, there are even uglier and more ridiculous moves waiting after this.”
“There’s worse than this?”
“Like, for example, groveling like a dog begging for its life.”
Monica said it without batting an eye. But looking at her dignified figure, it was hard to imagine her rolling like a donkey or groveling like a dog.
“Can you even call that a technique?”
“If it means survival, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do. It’s one of the most effective techniques for staying alive.”
“Really?”
“I swear on the name of Thief Master. Though, groveling like a dog isn’t something just anyone can pull off.”
A dignified person from the Nightwalker Family would never keep learning such ugly, ridiculous stances.
“So, what do you think? Changed your mind yet?”
There’s no reason for an Assassin of the Nightwalker Family to keep learning tricks unworthy of being called swordsmanship.
“I like it.”
But hearing that unexpected answer, Monica blinked in surprise.
“Wow, didn’t expect you’d actually like groveling like a dog. Your tastes are unusual.”
“…Are you making fun of me?”
“No, you just said you like it, out of your own mouth.”
“Not that—I mean this stance.”
Sien continued incredulously.
“I’ve never seen a stance that radiates such a desperate will to survive.”
Each ridiculous move bordered on a farce. Nowhere did it fit the nobility and dignity of the Nightwalker Family; it was pure slapstick comedy.
A stance is the very spirit of the sword. And what was contained in the Faceless Stance was an almost tenacious will to live.
I don’t want to die. Even if I have to roll in the mud, I will survive in this world—a desperate resolve to live on, no matter how ugly or miserable.
He had never seen a stance where the will to live was so palpable.
“Most people don’t value their own lives that much.”
“…I find that hard to understand.”
“There are more things people value than their own lives.”
—Rather, people in this world don’t value their own lives as much as you’d think.
Better to die honorably than to survive disgracefully. Sacrifice yourself for what you must protect. Destroy your enemy even if it costs your own life. Give your life gladly for the gods and become a martyr.
“Everyone’s desperate not to die.”
Nobles, knights, mages, priests—none are exceptions.
That’s how the strong think in this world, and even the Assassins of the Nightwalker Family are no exception. Sien was the same.
For the family, for loved ones, he was ready to give his life gladly.
But now, he finally understood.
“No matter how ugly or miserable, surviving is what matters.”
That’s why he had to learn.
“Teach me how to survive.”
At Sien’s words, Monica’s poker face stiffened.
“Teach me that resolve—to do whatever it takes to survive.”
The Assassin of the Nightwalker Family, revered and feared by all, politely asked to be taught by one who makes their living doing the world’s most lowly work.
To obtain the ‘puzzle piece’ that would take the sword forms he thought were perfect to a higher realm.
“If there’s something to learn, I’ll learn it.”
Even if it’s just a petty thief’s trick, unworthy of being called a stance.
“Grovel like a dog, roll like a donkey—whatever it is, just teach me this stance.”
“Very well.”
With Sien’s resolve clear, Monica nodded.
“Since you insist so, I’ll teach you for real.”
Crackle, crackle!
“To the one who abandoned their face, I’ll show the true Faceless Stance.”
With a storm of lightning swirling at her feet like a spark, her black-blue hair carried the current and fluttered wildly.
And a flash lit up the night.
Interesting…. Well done with the translation