Confirmation Sacrament.
A sacrament that proves a baptized believer has solidified their faith.
“Passing the Confirmation Sacrament to become a Master cannot be compared to the trial of making bones.”
Baptism, Confirmation Sacrament, Confession, Holy Orders…
However, the sacraments spoken of in the Nightwalker family are not common religious rituals performed in a church.
The same goes for the Confirmation Sacrament. It is far from a religious coming-of-age ceremony or a firm proof of faith as defined by the church.
Yet, it is not much different in that it is a ‘coming-of-age ceremony in the truest sense.’
A trial to prove one has perfectly mastered one of the family’s nine sword styles and to be reborn as a Master.
Whether one was reborn as a Nightwalker through Baptism or became a Maidman through the trial of burying bones, until passing the Confirmation Sacrament, one is ultimately nothing more than a child of the family.
In the first place, the trial to become a Maidman does not even carry the name of a Sacrament. That is how little weight it holds.
However, a Master who has safely completed the Confirmation Sacrament is different.
Precisely because they can be treated as an adult.
The benefits they can enjoy immediately are as different as heaven and earth.
They command the family’s intelligence organizations, including a direct unit of shadow knights under their command, are given the discretion to move independently without the head’s orders, and can be granted separate territories and titles held by the Nightwalker Duke family across the continent.
But above all, from the rank of Master, they gain the qualification to become the godfather of baptized children.
“I am fully prepared.”
The thing Sien, who had returned to the past, realized most poignantly was the meaninglessness of the realms defined by others.
Expert, Master… how much those labels attached by others had blocked his eyes and narrowed his vision until now. That was why he had devoted himself to honing his skills without caring about ‘realms labeled by others’ such as Maidman or Master.
But the situation had changed.
The wheel of fate was already moving much faster and in a more unpredictable direction than Sien had initially imagined.
There was no more time to be leisurely practicing and taking it easy.
For the family, for his loved ones, he had to use whatever he could.
“You were always that kind of child.”
Laila Nightwalker asked as if she were amused while looking at Sien, who was hardening his resolve.
“So, which sword style did you master?”
“I haven’t mastered any of them.”
“What?”
Laila Nightwalker blinked her eyes as if flustered by the unexpected answer.
“To be honest, I don’t think I’ve perfectly mastered even one of the nine sword styles.”
“Don’t you know that you cannot undergo the Confirmation Sacrament unless you have perfectly mastered one sword style?”
“What does it mean to ‘perfectly master’ a sword style?”
Nevertheless, Sien asked back. In a voice that was incredibly bold.
“Strictly speaking, the Confirmation Sacrament is not a place to prove mastery or attainment of a sword style.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s just a negotiation table to gain the family’s consent.”
Sien said, recalling the words Luna, the wisest person in the family, had once told him.
“Becoming a Master is ultimately just about seeking the consent of the family’s Masters, High Masters, and finally the Head and the Consigliere.”
“In that sense, I am confident that I can be called a master of one Stance.”
“Which Stance is it?”
“The Stance of the Wraith.”
Sien replied. An emotion of fluster, uncharacteristic of her, settled on Laila Nightwalker’s face.
It was the first form of the family, said to be the most mundane yet the most difficult to master, the Stance that allowed a Nightwalker Assassin to exist as an assassin.
“Do you know the meaning of that?”
“Why do you think I wouldn’t?”
One cannot even claim to be an Assassin of the Nightwalker family without learning this swordsmanship. However, the number of people who had officially reached mastery of the first form throughout the family’s entire history was only four.
The founder Kassan, a head from the ancestral generations, and the ‘Mother of Assassins’ currently before Sien’s eyes—Laila Nightwalker.
“Every Assassin of the family who mastered the Stance of the Wraith became the Head (Bozzo) without exception, and later became a Grandmaster.”
And finally, the Sien of the future himself.
“I’ll say it again. I will undergo the Confirmation Sacrament with the family’s first form, the Stance of the Wraith. And I will obtain the family’s consent at the negotiation table.”
“Even if you yourself think you haven’t perfectly mastered that Stance?”
“—What about you, Mother?”
Right then, Sien asked.
“The only Grand Assassin of the current era, the revered Mother of Assassins who has perfectly mastered three of the family’s sword styles, including the Stance of the Wraith—”
To her, who stood at the pinnacle of the continent’s greatest assassin family, the Nightwalkers.
“Are you, Lady, truly certain that you have perfectly mastered the Stance of the Wraith?”
“That is a truly insolent question.”
“Please forgive me, Lady.”
“Still, it’s a very interesting theory.”
As Laila Nightwalker said that, her expression simultaneously carried a hint of a smile as if she couldn’t contain her amusement.
“Yes, perhaps you are right.”
Immediately after, the smile vanished, and a frost-cold atmosphere swallowed the area.
“Then, just as I did before, in front of the family’s Masters, High Masters, and Consigliere Luna… and finally in front of me—do you have the confidence to draw out the ‘consent’ of us all?”
“I will prove it.”
Sien answered.
“Just as you did once before, Mother.”
“That is a good mindset.”
Laila Nightwalker smiled, withdrawing the frost-like atmosphere at Sien’s answer.
“Then show me right now.”
Along with unexpected words that even Sien hadn’t anticipated.
“Whether you truly have the qualification to obtain my consent and undergo the Confirmation Sacrament.”
***
The dawn moon was thin and gaunt as if it would break.
The plaza of the Nightwalker Duke’s mansion. Beyond the spurting fountain, in front of the black marble equestrian statue of the Blue Knight of Death… the Rider of the Apocalypse.
When Sien and Laila Nightwalker appeared in the plaza, there were unexpected faces there.
“N-Nightwalker Duke, Lady! Don Sien!”
“We greet the revered Nightwalkers!”
They were shadow knights and several children of the night who were soon to face baptism.
And until Sien and Laila Nightwalker stepped right behind them, none of them had noticed the presence of the mother and son.
“They’re already testing my Stance of the Wraith.”
They were merely desperately suppressing their startled hearts and maintaining their composure and etiquette.
“You are engrossed in your training until late dawn.”
Laila Nightwalker spoke with a cold smile.
“W-We apologize, Lady! We will immediately withdraw the children and leave the area…”
“No, that’s not necessary.”
Laila Nightwalker waved her hand toward the shadow knight who bowed his head in panic. After waving her hand, she glanced sideways at the children of the night who were kneeling alongside the knights.
Sien was the same. And among them was a very familiar and missed face, someone who would soon become Sien’s new family and younger sibling.
A girl with crystal-blue hair.
Like any other child of the night, she had dark, unfocused eyes. Just as the Sien of the past once did.
“Tia.”
The Black Swan, Tia Nightwalker.
The family’s High Master who had chosen to stand by Sien’s side and fight until the very last moment.
However, he had no intention of acting prematurely right now. That child would pass the baptism and become a proper Nightwalker regardless of whether Sien was there or not.
“Since it’s a rare opportunity to show our family’s sword, there’s no harm in watching beforehand.”
“It is an honor, Lady!”
As Laila Nightwalker snapped her fingers, the shadow knights and the children of the night hurriedly widened the distance as if retreating.
Sien did not move. Laila Nightwalker did not move either.
Both of them stood there as if frozen.
By the time it was realized, a sharp ring was already echoing.
—The King Slayer that had sprung from Sien’s sleeve was clashing with Laila Nightwalker’s sleeve.
Without breathing, without a heartbeat, even freezing the metabolism of their cells, not even the ‘aura of life’ that one unconsciously emits through mana or aura could be felt.
Could that still be called a living human? Not a chance.
A wraith was there.
“So that is the Stance of the Wraith performed by the Mother of Assassins and her godson…”
A shocked agitation settled among the shadow knights. In the case of the children watching, they didn’t even realize what was happening.
Stunned.
Only one girl, named Tia, was the exception.
Looking but not seeing, hearing but not hearing.
—There was only a sense of incongruity, like facing the moon reflected in a lake.
“You’re hiding yourself brilliantly.”
“I gained a few insights not long ago.”
“From someone like a fence of a mere thieves’ guild?”
Laila Nightwalker laughed as if amused.
“The Faceless Stance is certainly interesting. But that’s all.”
He had never separately reported it to her. Nevertheless, she was looking into what Sien had learned and what he had been doing as if looking at the palm of her hand.
“A fake can never beat the real thing.”
“Perhaps so.”
But even she wouldn’t be able to see the form of the realization Sien had awakened through the Faceless Stance.
“But he… no, she told me something interesting.”
“I would certainly like to hear it.”
“Even if it’s you, Mother, I can’t just go around blabbing someone else’s trade secrets.”
Sien grinned, and Laila Nightwalker smiled at those words as well.
“Yes, trust is more important than anything.”
It was just as he said. What Sien needed now was not a hundred words, but a single proof.
Once again, Laila Nightwalker’s presence vanished. No, it was gone.
In that state, he recalled the realization that the faceless one, Monica, had told him.
—Absence doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not there.
A teaching given by the lowliest being in the world.
Recalling those sword principles, Sien opened his eyes. He then very slowly etched the surrounding scenery into his mind.
The cold night air, the spurting fountain, the Blue Knight of Death, the distorted moon…
In that landscape overflowing with all sorts of things, it was there.
‘The thing that is not there.’
Neither the aura of life, nor the breath of the night wind, nor the fading moonlight, not even the air flowing with the dawn atmosphere was felt or touched; the thing that was not there was there.
Something that exists even if it is absent.
Therefore, toward that very ‘absent Laila’, Sien kicked off the ground.
The sharp ring echoed once more.
The prospect of Sien’s blade point actually aiming for Laila Nightwalker’s vital spot was still something that could only happen in a dream.
“You managed to notice.”
Nevertheless, Laila Nightwalker smiled with satisfaction as she blocked Sien’s strike with her sleeve.
“I never imagined you would learn that from the sword principles of the Veneto Thieves’ Guild.”
“Learn what?”
Sien asked back, feigning ignorance, and Laila Nightwalker answered.
“The secret to becoming a true master of the first form.”