“Damn it!”
Time had passed, and now, there was no longer a single living soul around me.
The dozens of soldiers who had charged in with spears and blades, even the Grendels summoned from the Valley of Despair—none remained.
All of them had vanished beneath the sharp jaws of the Thanathors Apollydon, screaming in agony and terror.
During that brutal and horrific time, there was not a shred of mercy or compassion in my heart—nor even the pretense of such emotions.
Only an unnamed fury and irritation coiled around my head, my chest, and the space around me, swirling in darkness and heaviness.
Not the screams of my enemies, not the sight of their diminishing, pathetic lives, not even the primal satisfaction radiating from the feeding Thanathors Apollydon could soothe me.
I had been certain of victory.
I had thwarted their ambush, shattered their trap, and eliminated their only means of counterattack through perfect defense.
It was the way I had always fought, and it had never failed me.
I protected myself, eliminated risk and variables.
Nearly every battle I fought in the last great war had followed this strategy.
But what was the result now?
Though I had not lost, I had certainly not won.
In focusing too much on reducing risk and uncertainty—in other words, on ensuring my own safety—I had missed the most important objective.
“What you’re doing isn’t real combat. You’re just running away.”
Orcan used to say that often when he saw me fight.
And he wasn’t entirely wrong.
I’m not a warrior, unlike him.
And I don’t mean that just because I’m a summoner and he’s a swordsman.
To Orcan—of the [Eyan] tribe, famed among the Tumvel Highlands for their bravery—battle was a blazing flash of life where one threw everything into the moment, regardless of the enemy or the stakes.
In that moment, he and his opponent would shine brilliantly, and the result didn’t matter.
As long as the cause was just and he had given his all, even death was acceptable.
That’s the kind of man Orcan was.
But to me, battle is not like that.
Regardless of the reason, whether I gave my all, whether it was fair or not, battle was nothing more or less than a means to an end.
And that’s why my battles always began with my own safety.
There was no respect for the enemy, no life-risking resolve.
That’s why he didn’t like me.
My methods were something his beliefs and culture could never accept.
My disposition and nature were unlike Lowell’s, or anyone else’s—and certainly unlike Orcan’s.
Still, in the last great war, I had never once thought my way was wrong, even if I suppressed my nature.
My methods had kept me alive, and had even contributed to victory.
But all of that only held true when I had allies.
“Damn it!”
A flicker of flame shot out from my hand, lighting up the surroundings.
A pitiful display of my frustration—pointless, meaningless—but my hand was already conjuring the next flame.
“That many people moved together. They must’ve prepared horses or some other means of transport nearby…”
Right now, I had no way to pursue them.
Even if they escaped on horseback, I knew how easily high-ranking assassins could erase and manipulate their tracks.
And if they used a portable portal or teleportation scroll, tracking them would be impossible.
Of course, given the usual cost of such tools, I might dismiss that possibility—but considering the size and resources of a top assassin guild, it wasn’t entirely out of the question.
My head spun.
Aimless frustration and anger began swirling around me once more.
It was painful—having plans fall apart, confronting my limits—but worst of all was the utter lack of any solution, or even a rough direction.
“If only Master Medluf was here.”
If Medluf had been here, he would’ve surely given me guidance.
He would’ve told me exactly where to go next.
“But he isn’t.”
I had to think.
Even if I was a poor imitation of Master medluf, even if the moonlight and starlight were too far away, I had to find direction now.
And to find a direction, I had to first figure out where I was standing.
I knew nothing about the red-haired man.
Only that he harbored some madness, that he was far more calculating than he appeared, and that he was a coward.
My fragmented information about the assassin guild wasn’t much help either.
But I did know something about Hailer.
He wanted me dead.
Revenge for his sister—his only way to end the excruciating pain inside him.
And if possible, he would have wanted to witness my final moments with his own eyes.
I was the one who burned his sister alive.
And at the same time, I was one of the ones who saved the world.
By burning his sister alive, I protected Lowell, the Hero of Light.
I couldn’t fully grasp the psychological pain he must’ve felt, but I was certain that simply erasing me from the world would not have satisfied him.
This theatrical ambush likely bore the red-haired man’s fingerprints, but choosing this particular location—when there were surely better places—was likely Hailer’s decision.
“An emotional, symbolic choice.”
It’s a typical reaction for those carrying old wounds.
Through symbolic acts and situations, they try to overwrite their memories or seek absolution—almost like a religious ritual.
They’re bound by the past and, consciously or not, hope to escape their pain.
“…Yeah.”
At last, I began to see the direction before me.
As I said, even if the assassination failed, Hailer would never have run from me.
His goal went beyond revenge or my death—so the success or failure of the attack meant little to him.
Whatever he had in mind, his endgame would have been the same.
But the red-haired man still took Hailer with him when they fled.
One could call it a show of professional courtesy, protecting the client—but judging from what he said, this wasn’t a formal contract.
Hailer hadn’t paid a price befitting such an operation, so he wasn’t a proper client.
He wasn’t protected by the guild’s policies, and there was no reason for assassins to feel any loyalty toward him.
Even if Hailer knew some vital secret, that wouldn’t justify it either.
If that was the case, it would’ve been easier to kill him on the spot rather than take him during the retreat.
“Ah!”
Suddenly, a spark of light flashed in my mind, and the darkness slowly began to clear.
If the assassination failed, what they had to fear wasn’t just my retaliation.
Whether they stayed in hiding or prepared for another attack didn’t matter.
If I returned now and informed Lowell—or Lord Medluf, or Bagloss—what would happen?
Though the reputation of the High Assassins’ Guild is formidable, and no one knows how far and wide their influence reaches, they are still a group of people.
If they have made enemies of Hero Lowell, the Yellow Sage Medluf, and the strongest assassin, Baglos.
There’s no way they can survive after that.
So, what must they do?
Before I return, they must silence me no matter what.
And because that is possible, they took Hailer.
He’s still useful for catching my attention.
Then what method are they using?
“An ambush? A curse? No, if it were something like that, it wouldn’t have taken this long.”
Think about it.
It couldn’t be that elaborate of a plan.
Just look at how many forces they’ve already lost.
If their strategist had expected or intended these failures, they wouldn’t have attempted such a sloppy operation from the beginning.
Even for them, this must be an unexpected situation.
And yet, do they still have another option to try?
“I too had been looking for an opportunity like this.”
Those words, and that fleeting something in his eyes…
“…Another trap. But it wasn’t meant for me.”
Right.
That red-haired man’s target wasn’t me.
I was merely a stepping stone to get to his true target.
“Could it be… Lowell? No, that’s unlikely.”
Whoever the target may be, it doesn’t matter.
If there’s another trap, they wouldn’t bother hiding its traces.
No—in fact, they’d probably leave traces on purpose.
In that case, I just need to follow them.
But not right now.
I pulled a crystal out from my pocket.
It wasn’t just because all my equipped barriers were gone.
After summoning Neaphis Naka Honus and then commanding the demon beasts in a rage, my mind was already at its limit.
I really needed rest now.
Whatever trap they had prepared, it was clearly more dangerous than this sloppy ambush and surprise attack—because I wasn’t even the original target.
Holding my bag, I recited a few words, and I was transported to Denatel’s library.
“…!”
But something felt off.
As soon as I arrived in Denatel’s library, an unnatural magical wave was vibrating through the entire space.
No, it wasn’t just that.
The beast ornament that acted as the barrier’s medium and the fifth crystal orb that powered it were glowing as if they were about to explode.
“W-what?”
I quickly looked in her direction, and saw black-red flames completely filling the barrier where she was trapped, surging alongside red lightning that looked ready to shatter it at any moment.
I recognized those flames and lightning.
That black-red fire was precisely why she once held the title of Flame Demon Corps Commander, and the lightning was proof that she was drawing upon all her strength.
“R-Ropena, what on earth are you doing!”
I instinctively gathered mana, but I knew better than anyone that it would be of no help.
It wasn’t just that I no longer had any barriers equipped.
She was the Flame Demon Corps Commander.
No summon I could call forth—not even Morotai—would be able to buy even a moment’s time in front of her.
Except for one spell.
Then suddenly, she stopped emitting the fire and lightning.
“Y-you…?”
She, who had been unleashing black fire and lightning, now stared down at me with a dazed, almost vacant expression for a long moment.
And I quietly looked back at her in tense silence.
Then, suddenly, a tear slid down her cheek.
“You’re alive.”
With those words, she collapsed to the floor.
“Thank goodness… really, thank goodness.”
Seeing her mumble those words from where she had fallen made my head spin.
I couldn’t understand what was going on.
She had clearly been trying to break the barrier.
And unless I was mistaken, the situation just moments ago was genuinely dangerous.
Then why stop?
The escape attempt itself wasn’t strange.
In fact, it was stranger that there hadn’t been one until now.
Then why would she stop?
I have no way of stopping her.
Just because I appeared, what reason would she have to give up?
Somewhere in the back of my mind, in a corner of my heart, a hope that had no business existing began to stir.
But I forcefully ignored it.
It must not start from there.
I must not take that excessive hope as truth.
Even if she truly believed it herself, that wouldn’t make it real.
“Miss Ropena, are you all right?”
I carefully approached her.
The barrier was rapidly stabilizing, and I knew she didn’t currently have a way to break it.
This wasn’t fear of her—it was because of a feeling that shook my heart and mind.
But just as I got close, she suddenly unleashed flames.
Scarlet fire blazed across the inside of the barrier like a flash, and something in those flames made me flinch without realizing it.
“You…!”
Even as tears fell from her eyes, she glared at me.
“…What the hell did you do!”