Chapter 47: Silent Shadows

A chandelier adorned with gold decorations and brimming with green crystals, professional books filling one entire wall, even a wardrobe separated from the bedroom.

It was a room truly equipped with the dignity befitting the family’s heir.

“Come this way.”

Ribelia, dressed in a gown, led me into the bedroom.

Unlike the study or wardrobe, the bedroom had only one door, making it good for holding out in a situation like this.

“Is it true that the imperial family sent assassins?”

Her voice, which had been purely joyful when greeting me, now held a hint of anxiety.

“It seems so. Three of their attendants have vanished inside the castle.”

“Kirie seemed satisfied with the conditions you proposed, brother. Why would they plot something like this?”

Even in such a situation, her attitude of shining her gray eyes while seeking reasons felt admirable.

“Do you remember the wax maid?”

“Ah.”

Ribelia let out a small sigh.

“That’s right. It wouldn’t be strange if there were others mixed in the delegation with different ideas.”

“Perhaps Lord Kirie is fidgeting right now too. The chance to retrieve his comrades’ bodies is about to fly away.”

“Is the mastermind the imperial direct line? Or another branch?”

“We’ll get information once we capture and interrogate them. For now, please focus only on your safety, my lady.”

She hugged her knees on the bed.

“You’re calling me ‘my lady’ again, brother.”

“I’m sorry, Ribelia. I’ll remember properly from now on.”

Only then did she lift her face.

I handed her a single dagger.

I felt the unique tingling sensation that occurs when a mage nearby gathers mana.

The feeling wasn’t great.

“Take it? I don’t know how to handle a sword.”

“It’s a hundred times better than nothing.”

I lowered my voice and added.

“You still can’t handle mana well, can you?”

“Thank you. I’ll use it well. If the situation turns bad, I’ll jump out the window or something. Broken legs can be healed.”

“It’s best if that doesn’t happen.”

I stood in front of the door and drew my sword.

With a chilling shing, the long sword revealed its ivory blade.

“Will they really come for me? There are so many knights and officer-mages inside and outside the inner castle. Soon, mental-attribute mages or light-manipulating mages will arrive and start searching in earnest, and they’ll be caught quickly.”

Seeing me with sword drawn, Ribelia wore an anxious expression.

“I think so too, Ribelia. But the imperial family knows that as well.”

They will definitely come.

Whether this fails or succeeds, war is unavoidable.

It couldn’t be the unilateral act of some middling branch imperial.

And they must have accounted for Intezeruto’s mental-attribute mages or light-manipulating mages.

If they sent mages specialized not in lethality or destruction, but in infiltration or assassination, our soldiers, knights, and mages won’t be able to stop them.

The moment I thought that, the door opened.

The doorknob turned smoothly without a sound, and three figures appeared.

All three were of similar height and build.

Their faces were also plain, the kind you could find anywhere.

They wore black vests over white cotton shirts, which was the attire of Intezeruto’s servants.

Just from that, I could tell they weren’t ordinary mages.

Any blue-blooded noble with their wits about them would rather die than disguise as a servant.

Without a word, I first checked their weapons.

One held a long-handled war hammer, one had two short swords with blades about two handspans long, and one had an estoc like a grown awl.

The common point was that blood dripped from all three weapons.

I heard Ribelia swallow behind me.

Honestly, I was quite flustered too.

I didn’t know how skilled they were, but I hadn’t thought they could take out the knights and soldiers outside without a single sound.

If they just shouted “Here!” once, the officer-mages spread throughout the inner castle would come running, wreathed in fire and lightning.

I hadn’t even heard the sounds of fighting.

Did they kill them without even time to scream?

“Ribelia. Open the window and shout. These guys seem pretty dangerous.”

“Brother?”

Ribelia wore an unexpected expression.

Having laid that groundwork, I took a deep breath.

I couldn’t rely solely on my skills in a situation where I didn’t know what magic these guys used.

“Assassins have appeared in the inner chamber!”

The moment I shouted, the one with the war hammer gathered mana.

“Anplus.”

As he called my name in a low voice, a blue light flashed.

A weak wind scattered past my body.

Strangely, my ears felt muffled.

Ribelia, panicking, waved her hands.

Her mouth moved, but no voice came out.

The three raised their hands, folding and unfolding fingers while pointing here and there.

It might be a bit unfamiliar to people here, but I recognized it as sign language.

As a final test, I stomped my foot.

I felt the impact, but heard no sound.

Damn.

I didn’t know what attribute he was applying, but the war hammer guy was a mage who could eliminate sound.

The one with the two short swords moved too.

As blue light rippled from his body, it gradually blended into the surrounding objects.

A hazy outline was faintly visible like heat haze, but I couldn’t tell exactly how his limbs were moving.

It seemed like an application of light-manipulating magic.

Now I understood why everyone had been taken out without a sound.

Even knowing the guy was right in front of me, it was this bad; if he’d come like that from the start, they’d have died without knowing anything.

Shouts wouldn’t be heard, and one guy couldn’t be seen, so there was no way to counter it.

I worried about Sir Dande and Sir Liam, who must be searching somewhere in the inner castle.

The one with the estoc gathered blue light.

Yellow lightning sparked on the awl-like sword.

Two of them grinned.

Only then did individuality appear on their previously bland faces.

The invisible one was probably grinning the same way.

My heart felt chillingly constricted.

Indeed, this world was a magical one filled with all sorts of mysterious spells.

The transparent one stepped forward.

I kicked off the ground toward him.

“Ōt.”

Putting in a battle cry that couldn’t be heard.

***

“Number 34, Number 22, Number 5. From now on, you three are one.”

Even as blue bloods, not all lived the life of nobles under the warm sun.

It was a world where blue blood, mage, and noble were used interchangeably.

But those arrogant and mighty rulers wanted even more excellent subordinates, and eventually extended their clutches to kin of the same blood color.

At banquets held every few hundred days, young nobles locked eyes or vented lust on servants.

Most bastards born that way died before even taking their first breath.

Blue bloods were mages and nobles, and the land and wealth to inherit were limited.

Long years passed.

One deep-blooded branch thought to raise them as private soldiers.

There was considerable backlash against treating fellow blue bloods as tools, but the utility was great enough to overcome it.

The private soldiers made of bastards gradually expanded to become an official imperial institution.

That was why Number 34 was here.

A light-manipulating mage.

Born with an attribute of almost no lethality, ironically, he was the mage who had killed the most lives among his peers.

Refracting light to blend into the surrounding background, he gripped his two short swords in reverse and charged.

Invisible feet kicked off the floor mosaicked with gold and crystals.

Through long experience, he knew how much people relied on their eyes.

He knew how flustered they got when an opponent vanished right before them.

Which mission was it?

While slitting the throat of a so-called powerful officer-mage with his short sword. Seeing that shrill scream and the face contorted in fear, he thought.

This guy is just a person after all. Shrinking infinitely before death, just like me.

The direct pureblood of Intezeruto.

That was his target this time.

The deepest blood among the blue bloods he’d killed in his life, one born with the supreme lineage.

Number 34 gripped his short swords tightly.

He prepared the slash he’d repeated tens of thousands of times.

The guarding knight didn’t even register in his eyes.

He would kill her and prove it.

That he was no different from the purebloods living above the clouds.

That before death, all are equal!

Number 34 charged at Ribelia sitting on the bed.

Ribelia couldn’t even see Number 34.

Number 34 reached out toward Ribelia.

At that moment, Anplus’s flying kick struck dead center in his torso.

Crack!

With the sound of ribs breaking, he flew back like a barbarian rammed by a rhinoceros.

How?

Number 34 thought as his vision shook violently.

“How dare you reach your filthy hand toward whom!”

Anplus roared silently.

Anplus had rushed out without donning breastplate or gauntlets, but he wore combat boots with iron plates and spikes.

Added to Anplus’s strength, the power rivaled a battering ram.

If Number 34 hadn’t instinctively twisted his body at the last moment, his spine might have broken, killing him instantly.

“Ugh, hack, cough!”

Number 34, stopped only by hitting the wall, struggled to lift his head.

Seeing the scene unfolding before him, he let out a silent scream of horror.

What is that?

Number 22 brought the war hammer down on Anplus.

Number 22 was exceptionally strong for his build.

A guy who could crush a knight’s breastplate and the knight inside with one hammer blow, or shatter mast and keel to stop a ship.

That blow was weakly deflected by a single swing of Anplus’s sword.

What the hell is that!

The hammer head, falling like a meteor, soared into the air like a kite.

Anplus leaped in place, spinning three times in midair.

Like a spinning top with blades, he rotated, and the bloodied Number 22 staggered back.

It was a miracle his neck hadn’t fallen off.

Anplus dodged Number 5’s electric estoc six times in succession.

Number 5’s estoc, wreathed in electricity, was a terrifying weapon that would make the whole body’s muscles contract and collapse with just one stab.

Number 5 used swordsmanship taught by Daiodel the Iron Cleaver, an imperial knight among the top ten.

He hadn’t thought there could be a knight who wouldn’t get hit even once.

“Aaaaaah!”

Number 5 opened his mouth wide and madly thrust his sword.

The estoc flew in from all directions like butterfly wings.

It’s a technique that accelerates by contracting and releasing muscles. It comes in like four arms. Even you can’t dodge that sword.

Number 34 thought so.

However, Anplus wore a momentarily nostalgic expression and a short wry smile.

Seeing that expression, Number 34 hurriedly read Anplus’s lips.

Don’t go around saying you learned the Iron Cleaver from Daiodel. That’s not how you use it.

“Number 5! Dodge!”

He shouted, forgetting sign language.

Sound had long vanished from the room.

Anplus stepped back once.

Even as the sharp estoc tip pricked his nose bridge, drawing blue blood, he smiled.

Everyone in the room, from Ribelia to Number 34, knew that single step was not a retreat.

Iron Cleaver.

The technique that changes the direction of recoil to add speed was unleashed.

But electricity is electricity. No matter how fast, the moment it touches this estoc, you’ll be electrocuted!

Number 5 thought so, preparing to sever Anplus’s neck with the next strike.

However, Anplus hadn’t taken a risk in a situation where he had to protect his little sister.

It felt just like this back then. The feeling of sword and body becoming one. The sensation that if the sword breaks, blood will flow.

Anplus’s new sword clashed with the electric estoc, sparking fierce flames.

Clearly no sound emerged, yet it was intense enough to make everyone hallucinate a resounding clang!

Yellow electricity overflowed from the estoc like water over a dam.

But the electricity touching Anplus’s sword scattered like water droplets on a heated pan.

Ribelia’s eyes widened, and Number 5’s mouth gaped.

The next moment, unable to withstand the massive impact, the estoc snapped in half.

Anplus kicked the falling awl-like blade fragment upward with his instep, changing its direction.

The blade spun in midair, pointing its tip at Number 5.

“No!”

Number 5 shouted, but it didn’t reach Anplus’s ears.

The blade, accelerated by the instep kick, embedded deeply into Number 5’s rotator cuff.

You shouldn’t have entered this room.

Thinking that, Anplus glared at where the light mage he’d first kicked had fallen.

The silhouette just rising seemed to slump back to the floor.