Chapter 40: Stance of the Crow (2)

“It has been a long time, Big Brother.”

The ‘Laughing Man’, Johann Nightwalker.

He was the top combat power of the Nightwalker Family, a Highmaster. Even among them, he was a powerhouse who boasted skills that ranked him among the very best.

In terms of pure combat ability, he was the practical second-in-command of the family, surpassing even Consiglieri Luna. He was also the brother who had fought Laila Nightwalker for the position of family head until the very last moment.

“Tia, could you give us a moment?”

“As you wish, Family Head.”

At Laila’s gentle voice, Tia bowed her head and withdrew. Before long, Tia vanished from sight, leaving three people behind.

Laila, her brother Johann, and her son Sien.

“Every time I see you, you grow strong enough to be unrecognizable.”

Johann smiled as he looked at Sien.

“It is because he is my pride and joy,” Laila replied.

“Your son, is it?”

At those words, Johann let out a cold sneer.

“One would think you actually gave birth to him yourself.”

The air in the area froze at that sneer.

“How long do you plan to play this childish game of family?”

He spoke as if he were uttering a taboo that should never be mentioned.

“I do not particularly care what nonsense you spout in front of me, Big Brother…”

Laila continued in a voice colder than anything she had shown until now. It was with a momentum so piercing that even Sien, standing beside her, unintentionally felt goosebumps.

“…but not in front of this child.”

“Heh, how terrifying.”

Johann shrugged and stepped back.

“Well, do not misunderstand me, Sien.”

He continued, smiling directly at Sien.

“I do not particularly dislike you either.”

“After all, family is everything to us. Is that not right?”

“Mhm, that is certainly true.”

It was at that moment.

“— Besides, what else do we have left?”

The childish voice of a young girl rang out.

“Welcome, Gretel. And you too, Hansel.”

“Mhm, Sister Laila! Sorry we’re late!”

Two Highmasters, the siblings Hansel and Gretel—who together bore the name ‘Witch Hunters’—appeared side by side.

“It’s been a while, Big Brother Johann.”

Amidst the childish playfulness they usually displayed, they slightly bared their teeth, which shone as sharp as awls.

“I am glad to see you both still looking so energetic.”

“I’m glad to see you haven’t changed either, Brother.”

Johann shrugged and stepped back, and it was then.

“Ev-everyone… please don’t fight…”

A timid, crawling voice followed, barely audible.

“Fa-family fighting… is not good…”

The ‘Mass Genocide Device’, Alice Nightwalker.

“As Lady Alice says, let us end this useless bickering here,” said the ‘Old Assassin’, Luciano Nightwalker.

“Our Family Head, the revered Mother of Assassins—.”

Before long, the other Highmasters of the Nightwalker Family were appearing one by one.

The Confirmation Sacrament proved one had mastered a single sword style and become a Master.

Then there was the Sacri Ordines, which could only be held after mastering two sword styles following the Confirmation Sacrament. Only those who successfully performed the Sacri Ordines could rise to the position of the family’s top combat force.

“Welcome, my dear brothers and sisters.”

The Mother of Assassins smiled as she presided over them.

“My beloved everything.”

***

The meeting between the Family Head, the Consigliere, and the Highmasters was called the ‘Highest Council’. Even someone like Sien could not attend yet.

Of course, he could hear the details later from Laila, and it wasn’t hard to guess what would be discussed.

What truly captured Sien’s attention was something else.

The Laughing Man, Johann Nightwalker.

The family member who had fought Laila for the position of Family Head until the very end.

He was one of the three individuals who formed the top leadership of the Nightwalker Family as an Underboss, alongside Family Head Laila and Consiglieri Luna.

‘As expected, the rumors were true.’

There was nothing new about his uncooperative attitude or his sarcasm toward the family.

For that reason, there were more than a few people in the family who looked at him with wary eyes. Just like the wariness Tia had shown.

However, unlike the concerns of some family members, Johann was not such an easy-to-read traitor.

The bond that connected the people of the Nightwalker Family was not that flimsy. Similarly, the ‘rumors’ Sien was concerned about were not some trivial nonsense about him being a traitor.

‘Johann Nightwalker is not a Highmaster.’

An assassin of the family who had perfectly mastered two sword styles.

A top-tier Highmaster who wielded the family’s Fourth Form, ‘Pose of the Raven’, and the Eighth Form, ‘Pose of the Moon Shadow’.

He was not.

The light of caution Tia had shown, and the sense of dissonance Sien had clearly felt. There was only one thing that could explain that dissonance.

The sword that kills oneself.

‘Johann has already mastered the Pose of the Wraith.’

He was not a master of two sword styles, but a Grandmaster who had perfectly mastered three. That was the true strength Johann was hiding.

“Ah! Found you!”

At that moment, a voice reached him. It was the childish voice of a girl.

“… Aunt Gretel.”

“Here you were, Sien!”

“Is the meeting over already?”

“Not even close!”

As she spoke, Gretel sat down next to the fountain where Sien was sitting.

“But is it okay for you to slip out in the middle?”

“I absolutely hate being bored. Anyway, stupid Hansel is listening.”

To the casual observer, she looked far younger than the seventeen-year-old Sien—perhaps twelve years old at most. Her manner of speaking and behavior were also full of the childishness appropriate for her apparent age.

“Don’t take what happened with Johann too seriously.”

“I wasn’t particularly bothered.”

“Mhm, well, that’s a relief then.”

Gretel gave a bright smile.

“Someday, you’ll understand too.”

“Understand what?” Sien asked, feigning ignorance.

“Even though he acts like that, Big Brother Johann is actually a pitiful person.”

“… Is that so.”

“So, as his family, we have to understand him. Especially you, Sien, since you’re the next head who will lead our family.”

Gretel spoke with a meaningful smile.

“Because we are each other’s everything.”

“— And nothing else.”

“Mhm, exactly.”

Of course, Sien was not unaware of this.

“I will keep that in mind, Aunt Gretel.”

“Hey, what’s with ‘Aunt’! ‘Aunt’ is too much!”

Gretel puffed out her cheeks as she spoke.

“Call me Big Sister from now on!”

“I understand, Gretel… Big Sister.”

“Good!”

Sien trailed off as if embarrassed, and Gretel stood up with a grin.

“Great! Then since it’s been a while, shall Big Sister check on our nephew’s skills?”

“I’d like that.”

The fountain square was dominated by a majestic equestrian statue symbolizing the Pale Rider, the Blue Knight of Death. Leaving behind the chilly night air, the pale moonlight, and the sound of the surging fountain water.

In an illusion where time seemed to have stopped, a chilling mana surged.

The Highmaster Gretel, who bore the alias ‘Witch’, was one of the few assassins in the family who primarily used magic.

Therefore, Sien was moving a step faster than her mana could flicker.

‘Duelist’s Stance’.

It was not a sword stance. It was a mage’s stance.

Among magic styles, it was a chanting method optimized for one-on-one duels, a high-speed stance focused on rapid casting.

Added to that, sparks of electricity shot out like lightning from the fingertips of Sien, who was wearing the artifact ‘Lightning Gloves’.

Even the power, which usually had to be sacrificed for speed, was showing an output nearly several times that of a normal Lightning Bolt thanks to the gloves.

It was a clean strike that caught two birds—speed and power—with one stone.

“Wow, amazing! Truly amazing, Sien!”

However, that strike never reached Gretel.

She didn’t dodge, and she didn’t block. Sien’s Lightning Bolt, which had rushed toward her like a thunderclap, simply stopped in the empty air.

The First Tier telekinesis magic, ‘Invisible Hand’.

‘To catch that?!’

Sien thought he had a fair amount of knowledge regarding telekinesis, but he couldn’t help but be stunned at the sight before him.

She had accurately caught the fastest attack magic in the world with what were essentially two fingers.

“By the way, you used to be so obsessed with the Ninth Form and telekinesis when you were little — but lately, your interest seems to have wilted?”

“…… It just happened to turn out that way.”

Sien gave a bitter smile. It was because the things he had to learn were piled up like a mountain, and he had realized that the time ahead of him was not as much as he thought.

“But I haven’t given up.”

“Right, so you’re still interested in magic?”

“Yes.”

Sien nodded.

“The Ninth Form, ‘Pose of the Kraken’, and telekinesis are both the same.”

“Mhm, very good! That’s our Sien!”

Gretel nodded as if satisfied by Sien’s words.

“Then since we’re here, Big Sister will show you something special.”

“What is it?”

“The way an assassin of the Nightwalker Family uses ‘magic’.”

A chilling frost ran down his spine.

At the same time, Gretel snapped her fingers.

“Pose of the Wicked Witch.”

It was not one of the nine sword forms of the Nightwalker Family. Since she didn’t use a sword in the first place, it couldn’t be called a sword form.

Nor was it a stance used in the Mage Towers of the Holy Empire or the Charlemagne Kingdom.

It was the unique stance of Gretel Nightwalker, the family assassin who used magic instead of a sword.

— Aura is the will to overcome the human body.

It was the will of the ‘Anthem of Humanity’ that only humans could use, an intent to transcend one’s own flesh, blood, and bone even after becoming a rotting corpse.

But mana was different.

It was the will to overcome the world.

One did not have to be human to use mana. No, rather, monsters who lived immortal lives—like Elves, Dragons, and even Liches or Vampires—could handle mana more skillfully.

It meant that the more one was a demonic existence hated by the world and defying the laws of nature, the higher their aptitude for mana.

In that regard, the humans of the Nightwalker Family occupied a truly peculiar position.

They were existences hanging by a thread on the very edge of humanity.

While usually claiming to be human and shouting the will of the Anthem of Humanity, they could just as easily step into the realm of monsters hated by the world and defying nature whenever necessary.

And Gretel, the Nightwalker assassin standing on the boundary between human and monster, snapped her fingers.

Thump!

A sound rang out. It was the sound of a large nail being hammered in.

“……!”

Sien clutched his chest and let out a scream.

Yet on Sien’s body, not a single scratch could be seen. He hadn’t actually been wounded, nor were his bones broken or his internal organs crushed.

The thing the nail was actually driven into was not Sien, but the ‘Light Doll’ that had appeared in Gretel’s hand.

Nails and needles floating in the air via telekinesis, along with all sorts of small and sharp blades, were being driven into the doll one by one.

Each time, Sien gasped in pain.

It was by no means a simple form of psychokinesis.

It was the most difficult and horrific magic to learn among the countless magical schools existing on the continent. In particular, it was the exclusive domain of monsters, something ‘human mages’ were said to be virtually unable to learn due to racial constraints.

“Launching the Malice —!”

A taboo magic that used hatred and resentment as its power source, and thus, in a sense, touched upon the same principles as telekinesis.

— It was a curse.