“To you who have discarded your face, I shall teach the true Faceless Stance.”
Pzzzt!
Lightning crashed down and a flash of light swept past.
At the same moment, before Sien could react, the cold aura of a woman pressed close, her poker face right in front of him.
An explosive burst from both her legs, narrowing the distance with a rapid dash—Sien recognized this familiar stance at once.
“The Stance of Flash…”
“No.”
Without thinking, Sien blurted it out, but Monica shook her head calmly and replied in a measured voice.
“This is the Faceless Stance.”
Monica, now wearing her Jester Mask, charged with two daggers in hand. Sien hurriedly drew the royal assassin’s blade concealed in his waist and blocked her first strike; the Thief Master had moved.
As their blades clashed, she closed in, unfolding a brutal sword technique—Sword Wrestling (Kampfringen).
“The Stance of the Twin-Headed Eagle.”
“No.”
At Sien’s words, Monica once again shook her head. As their blades met and the distance closed, she applied a joint lock—a grappling move, emblematic of the elite knights of the Holy Empire.
“This is the Faceless Stance.”
There was no doubt it was the Stance of the Twin-Headed Eagle. Yet the ‘Faceless One’ in the Jester Mask merely shook her head in denial, her face composed.
Suddenly, her attempt to subdue Sien with the grappling move halted, and she drew back, widening the gap between them. At once, her blade gleamed with a venomous intent, sharp as a viper’s fangs.
“The Stance of the Viper… Or perhaps, the Faceless Stance, after all.”
“Correct.”
The Faceless One, Thief Master, replied.
This was the swordsmanship the thieves of the Veneto Thieves’ Guild learned to survive.
A thief’s sword. A blade honed for pilfering and pilfered itself.
With the distance widened, the Thief Master snapped her fingers.
Pzzzt!
At the same instant, electricity crackled at her fingertips, and an arrow of thunder shot down. It wasn’t a sword. It was magic.
The magic itself was nothing more than a standard Rank 1 offensive spell, [Lightning Bolt].
Yet the speed at which the electricity crackled and fired toward Sien was so absurdly fast that even he could barely react.
The fired Lightning Bolt barely grazed Sien’s cheek as it flew by.
Pzzzt!
And almost before he realized it, a second Lightning Bolt struck the ground at Sien’s feet.
“Fast.”
This was no ordinary Lightning Bolt. Just as swordsmen possess unique characteristics in their stances, magicians imbue their magic with distinct traits and stances according to their aims.
“The Stance of the Duelist…”
Among spells, this incantation method is optimized for one-on-one duels—a rapid-fire chant favored by duelist magicians.
[Quick Firing] Lightning Bolt.
“No, it’s the Faceless Stance.”
Even so, the Faceless One replied in a composed tone.
It wasn’t a sword, but magic—a magician’s stance. Yet the Thief Master, the ‘Faceless One,’ calmly referred to this technique as the thief’s sword, the Faceless Stance.
—This was precisely the Faceless Stance.
The thief’s sword—no ordinary thief has the luxury to brandish their blade with leisurely bravado.
They simply pilfer from others. That is their sword, and their stance. That’s the way of the thief, the creed of their stance.
“The Stance of Flash or the Viper, sure, but to think you’d even copy the Twin-Headed Eagle and Duelist stances…”
“Isn’t it a thief’s job to steal?”
The Master of the Veneto Thieves’ Guild chuckled.
General sword forms are one thing, but the Stance of the Twin-Headed Eagle and the Duelist’s Stance are advanced techniques not easily learned by anyone outside the Imperial Knights or the Imperial Tower Masters.
Moreover, it was clear the Thief Master before him had even more techniques up her sleeve.
“Do you know why, earlier, I taught you how to crawl pathetically like a donkey?”
“To avoid being devoured by the stance itself.”
“Correct.”
Each stance contains its own creed and spirit.
For instance, the Stance of the Twin-Headed Eagle upholds valor as its virtue, wielded by conquering knights who seek to subdue their foes. For an ordinary petty thief to wield a blade infused with such fighting spirit would be nothing short of suicide.
That creed is the ‘face’ of the stance—and so, the face is discarded.
Forsaking the face of the Twin-Headed Eagle, casting away the valor imbued in its stance, and instead wielding as a faceless one.
The Faceless Stance, true to its name, has no face. Like stolen goods, it pilfers the swordsmanship and magic of others, donning whatever mask suits the situation.
“I have my own understanding of the Twin-Headed Eagle’s Stance.”
With that thought, Sien adjusted his grip on the hilt.
He had once piled mountains with the corpses of Imperial Knights, witnessing their Twin-Headed Eagle’s Stance to the point of exhaustion. Even as the Father of Assassins, the stances Sien had defeated and observed were not limited to that alone.
Even the Thief Master before him could not imagine just how much Sien had seen.
“Still, there’s no need to reveal all my cards from the start.”
With that, Sien steadied his blade and closed in.
The distance shrank. With blades locked, Sien pressed forward toward the Thief Master, closing in until reach was meaningless, then unleashing grappling moves—Sword Wrestling, a fierce sword form.
But what Sien unleashed now was no longer the Stance of the Twin-Headed Eagle.
There was no evident valor, no ferocity, no knightly integrity or pride.
—It was only the [Faceless Stance].
Crack!
Sien executed a grappling move, and the Thief Master, using the intricacies hidden within the Twin-Headed Eagle’s Stance, skillfully deflected Sien’s joint lock.
“I can still see the face of the Twin-Headed Eagle in you.”
The Thief Master smoothly parried Sien’s attack as she spoke.
“That obvious?”
“Still, not bad. It was barely discernible.”
Removing her Jester Mask, the woman continued in a cold, refined voice.
“Perhaps by the time you master crawling like a dog, you’ll be able to fully discard your face.”
“Weren’t you going to skip that part for me?”
“Well, it’s not every day you get to see the esteemed Nightwalker crawling like a dog, is it?”
“…You keep that up and you’ll really get stabbed.”
Monica, maintaining her poker face, shrugged her shoulders, and Sien couldn’t help but retort in exasperation.
At that moment, a chill night wind blew by, carrying with it the scent of sea salt.
“Well, as you know, the ‘Faceless Stance’ is ultimately all about mindset. In truth, there’s nothing more to teach.”
Monica spoke.
“Besides, unlike us petty thieves, who stake our lives on stealing others’ stances, you, Young Master Sien, don’t even need to do that.”
And that was true.
In the archives of the Nightwalker Family, besides their ancestral sword forms, countless other stances were recorded.
“Learning the Faceless Stance really was the right choice.”
No knightly honor, nor magician’s prohibition. Even the assassins’ killing blades were different.
The lowest of all stances.
A petty, cowardly way of life, built up by desperate thieves struggling to survive.
And yet, that ‘lowly way of life’ was imparting Sien—the greatest assassin of the continent, scion of the Nightwalker Family—with a lesson beyond compare.
That fact was astonishing and exhilarating.
The world was vast, and Sien realized there were still countless things in this world left for him to learn.
“What’s so Grandmaster about me?”
Sien Nightwalker, Father of Assassins.
In the family’s long history, only four heads of household since founder Kasan had ever attained the title of Grandmaster—now Sien, the only one of his generation.
He’d thought himself as strong as could be, yet he was but a frog in a well. Perhaps even the three family sword forms he’d considered mastered were not truly mastered. That realization was so refreshing he could hardly contain his laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
Monica asked, seeing Sien burst into laughter.
“It’s just… I’m enjoying myself.”
“Is groveling like a dog that enjoyable to you?”
“…Watch your mouth, really.”
Sien fired back, exasperated, then continued quietly.
“I’m going to become the strongest in the world.”
“Of course you are.”
With the sea-scented night wind at his back, Sien spoke. Monica, too, did not deny it and merely shrugged.
“After all, you’re destined to become the head of the Nightwalker Family, the pinnacle of those who walk the night. You’ll probably become the strongest in the world.”
“Well, that much is already a given.”
Sien nodded without denial. It was neither bravado nor overconfidence—just the plain truth.
“But I intend to become even stronger than that.”
For a moment, Monica’s poker face flickered with unease. In the eyes of this mere fifteen-year-old Sien, she glimpsed the shadow of an ambition unfathomable in depth.
“So you’d better make sure to get on my good side in advance.”
“I’m already teaching you with the utmost sincerity, you know.”
“Good, that’s enough.”
“By the way, there’s an artifact that’s handy when you’re using Quick Firing Lightning Bolt in Duelist’s Stance.”
“What artifact?”
“(Gauntlet of Thunder).”
Monica took something from her coat—a pair of black leather gauntlets. Pzzzt, pzzzt, blue sparks crackled, electric currents shimmering across their surface.
“As you know, Quick Firing Lightning Bolt has the flaw of greatly diminished power in exchange for speed. With the thunder magic imbued in these gauntlets, you should be able to enhance it.”
“Hey, why are you giving me something like this…”
Pzzzt!
As he accepted the gauntlets, Sien could feel the surge of powerful electrical magic within them.
Donning the Gauntlet of Thunder, Sien flexed his fingers experimentally.
For an ordinary thief to use the Duelist’s Stance or Quick Firing Lightning Bolt was remarkable enough—but this was the assassin of the Nightwalker Family.
Pzzzt!
Electric magic flared from Sien’s fingertips as he practiced, rapidly firing off several Lightning Bolts before smiling in satisfaction.
Both power and speed were flawless. It was perfect—strong enough to use in battle immediately. He hadn’t expected to pick up such a practical technique so quickly. It was a lucky windfall.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For giving me such an expensive artifact for free…”
“Why do you think it’s free?”
“?
“No, you’ll have to pay full price. I’m not some thief, after all.”
At Monica’s words, Sien fell silent, dumbfounded.
“I already paid you a fortune in tuition. Can’t you throw in one artifact as a freebie?”
“It’s 500 gold coins of the Republic. It’s quite a pricey artifact.”
“Hey, you remember I gave you 100 kilos of gold bars, right?”
“I received it as tuition, of course. I remember.”
At that, Sien muttered in disbelief.
“You’re a real thief, you know that?”
“Well, I am the Master of the Thieves’ Guild.”
Monica, 13th Master of the Veneto Thieves’ Guild, replied coolly.
***
A short while later, two Nightfalcons of the Nightwalker Family alighted on Sien’s shoulders.
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