Chapter 93: Midterm Exams (10)

Carl narrowed his eyes behind the mask as he looked at the man.

Despite having his chest pierced, he hadn’t let out so much as a groan.

What’s more, even while being stabbed, he twisted his body to avoid his vital points.

Carl had aimed to avoid the vital spots in the first place, but putting all these factors together, the man appeared to be a professionally trained killer—no, an assassin.

‘It seems this is the first time I’ve seen a properly trained assassin since coming to Artenia.’

During his campaigns in Leipzig and other regions, Carl had encountered people who called themselves members of an assassin guild.

But most of them weren’t even worth the name.

In Central Plains terms, they were no better than third-rate killers, and they didn’t even seem to have the basic structure of a proper assassin organization.

That was why Carl had killed without exception all those who had claimed to be assassins before him.

As a former killer himself, he could not tolerate such a disgrace.

“……”

But seeing a genuine assassin like this for the first time actually made him feel a strange sense of welcome.

Creak.

Carl pulled over a chair from the room and sat in front of the man hanging on the wall.

“You know who I am.”

“…NOX.”

Even as he spat out blood, the man answered with difficulty.

Carl gave a small nod.

He had thrust his sword into the man’s chest and released his qi to stimulate key pressure points.

If the sword were pulled out by force, blood would gush out like a fountain.

The man seemed to realize this, as he showed a look of resignation.

“What was your purpose in watching me?”

“……”

“Was it your people who took Dirsen?”

“……”

Naturally, there was no answer.

Carl instead felt intrigued.

If the man had obediently answered his questions, Carl would have been disappointed.

After idly running his fingers along the edge of his mask for a moment, Carl rose from his seat and approached the man.

“There are more drawn-out and filthy methods I could use, but I’ll treat you like a gentleman.”

It was a courtesy from one who had once stood at the pinnacle of the same profession.

Of course, the other man would have no idea what he meant.

Fwoosh.

First, Carl thickened the qi barrier around them.

If any sound leaked out, it could become troublesome.

Once the preparations were complete, he reached out to the man, his heart beating a little faster.

“…Khhhhaaaaaaahhh!”

Even he couldn’t endure this—an awful scream tore from his throat.

A seasoned killer didn’t need to bother with crude acts like ripping out fingernails or breaking toes to extract information.

That was the sort of thing only amateurs did.

A veteran like Carl knew exactly which parts of the human body, when handled in which way, would cause the most excruciating pain.

“Guh-heuk! Guhhh-urk!”

“Hm.”

The man’s body jerked violently.

Carl didn’t bother to ask questions.

The essence of this torture method was to make the victim think of the answers themselves.

“Now for stage two. There are a total of ten stages, so don’t worry. No one has ever lasted past stage six, but I’m curious how far you’ll go. Ah, if you set a new record, I’ll give you a prize.”

“……”

The man’s whole body trembled violently.

Blood vessels burst in his eyes, his face flushed red, veins ruptured and muscles tore in multiple places, leaving blotchy marks.

His endurance ended there.

Just as Carl finished stage three and was about to move to stage four, the man—shaking and drooling—spoke with difficulty.

“W-wait…”

His voice carried a grating metallic undertone, as if his mind had been through an ordeal.

With the sword still embedded in his chest and now drained of all strength from the torture, it was no wonder.

“So this is as far as you go.”

Carl looked genuinely disappointed.

He had hoped that a trained assassin could last to stage five.

“……”

Seeing the regret visible even through Carl’s mask made the man shiver.

It felt as though his whole body were being wrung out like a wet rag.

From head to toe, his muscles convulsed violently, as if rearranging his flesh—an agony beyond words.

Moments ago, he had been on the verge of screaming for death to end it all.

“…Bavarian.”

“Bavarian?”

“You were involved in the terrorism during the Entrance Exam at the Bavarian Academy.”

“Hm.”

Carl nodded slightly.

Whether he had interfered or helped, it was true he had been involved.

“The black mask, the golden crescent moon emblem on the edge—we’ve identified them. You’re the leader of the organization called NOX.”

“That was an intentional appearance.”

It had been the perfect timing to mark NOX’s debut.

The Imperial Family also seemed to have taken notice, but since they realized he had nothing to do with the terrorism, they didn’t bother to make a move.

He hadn’t aided the terrorism—he had completely ruined it.

“That terrorism during the Entrance Exam had to succeed. But because of you, everything went up in smoke. So now many people are sharpening their blades for you.”

“Interesting.”

If he hadn’t wiped out Drake and the magical beasts surging toward the plaza, most of the cadets there would have died.

“The Red Lotus, Tinaide, Melken—these three, right? Then who’s really backing you?”

All the organizations tied to the terrorism were dummy groups.

The remaining forces had all been reduced to ashes overnight by the Sword Masters sent by the Imperial Family.

After that, the Empire announced they had hunted down and executed the culprit, but Carl didn’t know how things had proceeded.

“…It’s…”

The man lifted his gaunt face.

It was the face of a fool who, having accepted death, wanted to confess everything to leave some trace behind.

But life didn’t always go the way one wanted—

even at the brink of death.

Pshk.

The sword embedded in the man’s chest slid out.

Blood gushed out immediately after, and the man died on the spot, collapsing to the floor.

Carl, unshaken despite the sudden turn of events, simply waved his hand lightly, pushing away the spurting blood.

“……”

The hole where the sword had been embedded just moments ago—

Someone brought their face close over it.

Blue eyes rolled side to side as if inspecting the inside, then soon met Carl’s gaze.

The eyes narrowed.

It was as if the person were smiling at him.

“……”

Carl’s expression hardened behind the mask as he met that gaze.

He had only noticed the presence of the other right before the sword was pulled from the chest.

Clang!

The outer wall split diagonally and crumbled away.

The intruder standing atop the debris waved his hand lightly to sweep away the dust, then tossed back the sword he had been holding to Carl.

“A fine sword. I put it to good use.”

Clink.

Carl’s scabbard floated up on its own and caught the flying sword naturally, sheathing it.

At the skill, which was clearly a form of telekinetic object control, the man clapped lightly in admiration.

“You use an intriguing technique. Impressive. You could debut with a troupe.”

It was an intruder wearing a pure white mask.

Curiously, not only the mask but the exposed skin was also pale, almost as if bloodless.

“What? Not to your liking? In times like these, landing a job with a troupe would be fortunate. Hmph, tsk. Maybe you’ve got some pride as a leader of an organization, huh?”

“……”

Carl observed the man who stood there rambling nonsense.

He was someone skilled at concealing his presence.

He felt like an assassin, and yet… not quite.

Overflowing with ease and maintaining a constant, natural posture—this was someone who had surpassed a certain threshold of mastery.

The man stepped over the debris and walked inside the house, nudging the corpse lying at his feet.

“Tsk, tsk. Spilling your guts just because you’ve been tortured a bit? Kids these days have no grit. Don’t you think so?”

“You seem likely to loosen your tongue soon yourself.”

“Hmm? My tongue’s loose by nature. Didn’t you notice from the start? I like talking—it’s my hobby to ramble. I get scolded often for saying useless things. But well, that’s just how some people live.”

For every one word Carl said, ten came back.

Most of it was pointless garbage, which was irritating.

Tap.

The man stopped precisely at the edge of Carl’s domain.

It meant he had measured the distance between them exactly.

Seeing this, Carl smiled faintly behind his mask.

‘Interesting.’

Where had this monster crawled out from?

“Was this man your disciple?”

“That’s right. At least before he started flapping his mouth. If you talk a lot, you should at least know what to say and what not to say. No matter how important life is, there’s nothing more important than trust.”

“He was a talent too good to kill.”

“Ah, you think so too? I drew my sword and regretted it a bit. Maybe I should have spared him once. But what can you do? What’s done is done, and my disciple’s a cold corpse now.”

“Master and disciple crossing to the afterlife together wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Hmm, I’ll pass on that. He wasn’t a disciple I cherished that much.”

The man grinned, shaking his head, then looked at Carl again.

“We’ve strayed off topic. NOX, was it? As for my introduction, hmm… what name should I use?”

“Does that matter?”

Carl fixed his gaze on him, slowly raising his aura.

“Let’s save the name for after I see the face behind that mask.”

Whoosh.

Carl’s figure vanished.

All that remained in the air was a wisp of black smoke.

The man, too, dissolved into the air as Carl’s Dark Flow Footwork unfolded in a surprise attack.

Tak! Tatak! Tak!

From time to time, pairs of arms would burst out of thin air, entangling randomly in fierce clashes.

Grabbing, deflecting, tangling, and breaking apart—

Dozens of exchanges passed in an instant.

Tap.

Carl landed back in his original position.

…His hands were still empty.

He had at least hoped to get a look at that strange man’s face, but every attempt at Breaking Grip Technique had been blocked.

The man had also failed to achieve what he wanted.

“…Well, this is surprising. Has there ever been another time I was pushed like this? I’ve been hit so much my hands are all swollen.”

He spoke lightly, looking at his reddened palms.

“I’ve decided. From now on, call me Lucas. I was called that once in the past—it wouldn’t be bad to remember those days.”

“Dirsen? Ah, you mean that brat from Lahan? My disciple made a mistake. He was originally trying to dig up information on you, but almost messed everything up. By now, he should be back where he belongs. I’m not one to meddle in back-alley power struggles.”

“……”

Carl furrowed his brow.

The more they talked, the more elusive the man’s identity felt.

“What’s your purpose?”

“Didn’t my disciple tell you? That there are many people sharpening their blades for you. I’m here just to say hello today. I was going to plant some people in your organization, but your defenses are so thorough I had to throw up my hands.”

Snap.

Lucas stood in front of the collapsed wall, waving to Carl with a cheerful expression.

“Then, see you again. It won’t be long.”

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