Chapter 6: Sacrament of Baptism (1)

As soon as Sien grasped the gold cup inlaid with jewels, an absurd amount of mana could be felt through the golden surface.

It was as if he were holding the Holy Grail from legend in his hands. That wasn’t far from the truth. To obtain this much mana all at once was impossible even if one consumed the most precious elixir in the world, the so-called ‘Dragon’s Heart.’

There was no reason to hesitate. Even if this was a poisoned grail, nothing would change.

Gulp.

Without hesitation, Sien sent the contents of the cup down his throat.

Sacred flesh and blood. Of course, that was only a metaphor. But the blood and corpses stacked up to create this one elixir were no lie.

Crunch!

As soon as the holy flesh and blood melted into Sien’s body, the raging aftermath of mana twisted his bloodstream.

Crunch, crunch!

Shedding his formerly weak flesh, the transformation began for Sien to be reborn as a human of the Nightwalker Family.

His bones, muscles, nerves, and even every cell and gene lost their original forms and collapsed in utter chaos.

With his current frail body, there was no way he could withstand this impossible surge of power.

No one, not even the current head nor the wisest Consigliere in the family, knew how the ancient assassin cult to which the founder Kasan belonged, had developed such a dreadful elixir on the Eastern Continent.

The only thing known was that the training methods and combat techniques they possessed utterly surpassed common sense in this land.

“Gah!”

In agony, Sien coughed up blood. But it wasn’t crimson. Mana of the highest purity dissolved into his blood, staining it a shockingly clear blue.

Blue blood.

And the sight of Sien was being watched over by those who walked the various colors of the night.

Boys and girls appearing even younger than Sien, elderly gentlemen, middle-aged men and women, young and beautiful ladies and gentlemen—people of all ages and genders watched Sien’s baptism with bated breath, solemnly.

If he could not pass this trial, he could never become one of them. The same was true for Sien. That was why Sien smiled quietly.

Even amid the agony of remaking his flesh at the cellular level.

Sien’s parched smile sent a wave of bewilderment through the air.

Had he lost his mind, unable to bear the pain? Was his body still too immature to endure the baptism?

No.

Even as his bones were being stripped and nerves reconstructed, even while massive mana dissolved in his blood—he only let out a dry laugh.

Aside from an occasional gasp, he did not utter a single groan. He simply accepted the process as his flesh was rebuilt from its very roots.

No, at some point, he wasn’t even accepting it anymore.

He was… consciously and perfectly controlling the entire transformation.

Even in the midst of this extreme metamorphosis, which granted superhuman power, he was processing it as efficiently and optimally as possible. Like a surgeon performing an operation on himself.

The Nightwalkers who understood the meaning of this quietly held their breaths.

「Twelve Principal Meridians」, 『Eight Extraordinary Vessels』, 「Three Body Meridians」, 「Gate of Life and Death」

Recalling precisely the ‘unseen paths of power’ recorded in the family’s ancient secret arts, he was reconstructing his nervous system and perfectly forging the pathways and mana circuits through which these powers would flow.

All to obtain the divine body, the immortal bones, sought by their ancient assassin order.

“Astonishing…”

One of the family members standing by Laila’s side finally spoke up.

“To think a body could circulate mana so perfectly.”

Her pallid, waxen skin, the pointed ears hidden beneath her hood—these alone showed she was not an ordinary human.

Indeed, she was not a normal human, nor even a typical elf. She was a Dark Elf, of the race considered the most accursed and abominable heretics on the continent.

But before the family, neither race, skin color, nor even species barriers had much meaning.

And as one who lived a life incomparable in length to any human, the elf held a special place even within the family.

The wisest one—Consigliere Luna Nightwalker.

The family’s greatest Elder, whom even the head, Laila, dared not treat lightly.

Even she, when she received her baptism, barely managed to endure it amid agony.

But this child was different.

Even as his body was being reconstructed, he maintained conscious and meticulous control over the process. As if he would not allow a single speck of impurity in the reborn body of a Nightwalker.

“Is it not truly marvelous?”

“What is?”

“Everything about that child.”

Watching Sien, Laila spoke.

“Long ago, our family’s founder and Nightfather, Kasan, also received baptism at the age of nine.”

“…The very first one to walk the night, then.”

“Don’t you find it an extraordinary coincidence?”

“Are you suggesting that child is his reincarnation?”

“Perhaps, he may be something even more.”

At Laila’s words, Luna snorted as if amused.

It was an ancient story, so old its truth could never be verified, lost in the mist of centuries. Even elves, who lived many times the lifespan of humans, could only consider it ‘a grossly exaggerated legend’ or ‘myth.’

And yet, that very myth was unfolding before their eyes.

Crunch!

The raging inside Sien’s body finally ceased, and silence settled.

Yet a faint sound of breathing still echoed.

At last, after staggering, Sien quietly stood up. Still, standing there was just a nine-year-old child. His face, hair color, even his height and build were unchanged. At a glance, there was no difference from before the baptism.

Nevertheless, everyone present knew, felt, and were drawn to an understanding.

A new family member had just now, in this very place, been ‘born.’

A child of the family, possessing talent on par with the founder, Kasan—the First to Walk the Night.

Without a doubt, a pure-blooded Nightwalker stood there.

A body optimized and maximized for flesh and battle—an Assassin in the purest form.

Depending on Sien’s will, it could become magic, or aura.

He would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, and likewise, be bound by no rule or formula.

Just as the family’s ancient saying goes—that the ends justify the means—if he wished, he could become anything, do anything.

That is what it means to be an Assassin of the Nightwalker Family, one who has completed baptism.

Moreover, Sien was just a nine-year-old child.

Of course, he could not now stand sword to sword with the continent’s most powerful. What he gained was, at best, only the minimum foundation.

And yet, he could understand—the infinite potential for growth within his body.

The real beginning starts now.

“Before coming of age, I will draw out every ability of this body.”

He recalled his past self. All the heroes and monsters of the Empire and the continent’s champions fell by Sien’s hand. Yet even so, he could not bring the Empire itself to its knees.

Because Sien had not been strong enough.

Now, that was no longer the case.

“La famiglia e tutto (Family is everything).”

A voice rang out in the silence. It was the head of the family, Laila.

At her words, the consciousness that had drifted away returned to reality at last. The tension broke, and Sien’s posture crumbled.

Sway.

“You endured splendidly.”

As Sien’s shoulders collapsed, Laila gently embraced him.

Like the Virgin embracing the Son of God nailed to the cross, her face shone with motherly mercy.

They were not connected by blood. No one knew whether the baptism process involved any brainwashing or forced mental manipulation.

But the ‘bond’ that formed between members of the Nightwalker Family was undeniable.

There was no reason to deny it. Even if these feelings were false, it didn’t matter. Even if something had been done from the beginning to make them feel this way, he didn’t care.

For people have always called such irrational bonds ‘family.’

That was why Sien smiled as well.

As his consciousness faded, he finally spoke the name he’d always wanted to call, yet never could.

“Mother…”

Laila Nightwalker was a cold person. No, she was a person without blood or tears.

But even such a villain is always gentle to her son.

***

Of the three children who underwent baptism, Sien and Vigo alone survived to be reborn as members of those who walk the night.

Some time later.

When a child safely passes baptism, a member of the family takes them as a sponsor and becomes their Godchild.

In this way, members of the family take in new children, teaching them not only the family’s secrets but their own unique skills as well. Much like a master passing on his knowledge to his apprentice.

For example, Sien’s brother Vigo, who also survived, became the Godchild of Mikhail Nightwalker and began his training under him.

And in Sien’s case, possessing the greatest talent in the family’s history, there was no doubt who his sponsor would be.

The family head—Laila Nightwalker.

Nearly ten years had passed since Laila won the succession war and became Duke, and in that time, she had never taken a single child of the night as her Godchild.

But now, breaking her decade-long silence, she had named herself Sien’s ‘Godmother.’ This was not something that could simply be dismissed as an internal matter of the family.

A new heir to the Nightwalker Family had been decided.

The Mother of Assassin had made a decision unprecedented until now.

The very fact that the head of the assassin family—the very figure who makes even the continent’s strongest tremble—had chosen her successor was a dark omen looming over the continent.

Sien, too, fully understood the storm his existence would bring.

“Much has changed from the past.”

Back then, when Sien passed the baptism, he was just thirteen years old. Of course, even then, his talent was enough to astonish the family.

But it was nothing compared to now.

Unlike before, Sien was now only nine years old—a full four years earlier. Moreover, his brother Vigo, who had failed to survive in the past, had now become a proper member of those who walk the night. Their fates had changed.

Where that changed fate would lead was now in Sien’s hands.

Resolute, Sien silently raised his head.

The baptism was over. But the process of training to become one who walks the night was far from finished.

In fact, it was only just beginning.

***

—One year later.

It was a few months after Sien had just passed his tenth birthday.

Remembering the feel of the blade in his hand, Sien circulated mana through his body. Along the Three Body Meridians, the aura known as the knight’s power accelerated.

Northern Republic, underground Colosseum of the Duchy of Nightwalker.

That place, reminiscent of an arena, was indeed used as such.

A death match that would never end until one side perished.

Of course, it was far from legal. But the world was full of those willing to pay a fortune, legal or not, just to watch someone bleed.

Accordingly, the desperate struggles of humans risking their lives against monsters became a spectacle of great value. Sometimes, even the brutal scenes of defeat and humiliation.

And yet, the spectator stands of the arena—where fevered frenzy should reign—were empty.

Except for one person.

Seated in the cheapest seat, farthest from the arena, was the sole spectator.

As usual, she observed the arena with a cold poker face. She paid no heed to the fact that her own son was the only one thrown into the arena.

Laila flicked her fingers.

The Colosseum’s spectator stands were absurdly huge. Not to mention, from the furthest, cheapest seats, even shouting would not be heard.

Thud!

Yet, the moment Laila snapped her fingers, the iron door on the opposite side of the Colosseum opened as if on cue.

The curtain rose on a death match with just a single spectator.