The so-called "Lethal Art" is the pursuit of an objective by any means necessary—from psychological manipulation and feints to suicidal charges—all for the sake of that final strike. Words are used to distract, refined swordsmanship to create a predictable pattern, and a cold mind to grasp exactly what the opponent intends. When all conditions are met, the moment of execution presents itself.
Magic Downpour!
'Starfrost' was a blade meant for cutting, but it was also a medium for sorcery. In an instant, before anyone could react, Don felt the sensation of muscle beneath his grasp vanish. A black shadow tore its way out of the 'Blaidd' skin, but Don had anticipated this, intentionally releasing an area-of-effect spell.
Thack-thack-thack...
The sound of magic crystals piercing flesh was constant. A spray of blood erupted in the air. Still clutching the discarded pelt, Don caught a fleeting glimpse of his opponent's true form. The figure was tall and lithe, clad in silver armor and a black hood that obscured her features. Judging by her build, she was female.
A Black Knife Assassin?
Don's eye twitched. This was the legendary assassination guild of the Lands Between, composed entirely of Numen women—the perpetrators of the "Night of the Black Knives" who had put the demigod Godwyn the Golden to the blade.
Why are they here? Ah, right... I remember they were the ones who killed Iji in the end. And there's a Black Knife Ringleader locked in a gaol in Liurnia. So, they really do have a grudge against Ranni.
Thoughts flashed by like lightning, and he quickly realized how ruthless the difference in timelines could be. Five or six similarly dressed figures leaped up from the cliffs, clutching short, sinuous daggers. The moment they locked eyes with him, Don felt as though an invisible hand had crushed his heart; his blood turned to ice.
A sinister, cold, and cruel aura rushed at him. Don forcibly checked his advance. Never mind that the impostor was drenched in blood; never mind that the other Black Knives were still a hundred paces away—he was certain those strange daggers would reach his throat before he could take another step!
"Thou... when didst thou see through the disguise?"
A low, feminine voice spoke. The Black Knife in the center was noticeably taller than her companions, nearly two meters in height.
Don gripped his hilt, his knuckles white, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I saw through it from the beginning. How was it? Was my performance not exquisite?"
The atmosphere turned rigid. Don had not only crippled their subordinate but had effectively slapped them in the face.
"Thou art not strong, but thy tactics are... interesting. Alas, thou art but a weak human." The tall woman shook her head, slowly lifting a foot. "I forgot to tell thee: it is impossible to rouse the sinner. Her soul is anchored to a doll; she must use sleep to resist the weight of the ages."
Don hadn't known that, but it no longer mattered. Several Black Knives stepped forward simultaneously, their bodies vanishing into thin air.
Invisibility?
The crushing pressure vanished along with them, leaving only the sight of grass being flattened by extending footprints. Soon, even the footprints vanished, leaving only his survival instinct screaming in alarm.
Don froze. His brain stopped thinking because his limbs had already taken over. Think of nothing. Ask nothing. Grip the blade with both hands, lean into the core, and go—
Charge!
Boots kicked up grass-shards as Starfrost flared with cold light. The swordsman sprinted into the wind, feeling himself merge with the surroundings. He couldn't see the enemy. He couldn't sense the direction of the killing intent. He only knew the savage madness filling his bloodshot eyes.
Even if you gut me, I'm taking a piece of you with me!
His scanning eyes suddenly darted to the side. A strange dagger manifested out of thin air.
Going for the kidney?!
The dagger was too fast to parry. Don abandoned all defense, twisting his torso to avoid the vital point, and swung in a diagonal arc the moment he felt the searing pain in his side.
Whoosh—
The long blade, wreathed in frost, tore through the air and erupted in a shower of sparks. The form of a Black Knife Assassin appeared as her dagger braced against the katana, but simultaneously, more blades manifested in the air.
Kidney, eyes, spine.
Each Black Knife was positioned in a different direction, precise as a surgeon. In the history of the Lands Between, there was a saying: A single Black Knife might fall to a knight, but a pack of them is enough to make a hero weep.
Don ignored it all. A Carian sigil appeared at the tip of his blade; he would be content just to leave a single scratch on them. But in that moment, the sky suddenly brightened, the moonlight surging tenfold!
Whiz-whiz-whiz...
It was as if a hurricane of rain had descended. In an instant, Don's cloak was shredded into rags. He froze, looking around. The grass had vanished, replaced by dozens of square meters of earth bristling with one-foot-long glintstone crystals. Only the spot beneath his feet remained "pure" ground.
This level of magical control...
Don turned quickly to see a petite figure stepping as if from the moon itself. Her four arms were joined at the fingertips, her cream-colored dress fluttering in the wind as if she were merely out for an evening stroll.
"Good evening, Lady Alecto." Ranni nodded with elegant poise, her gaze lingering on Don for a heartbeat.
He understood immediately. He lowered his blade and retreated. This time, no one pursued him. The air distorted, and the tall assassin revealed herself. She cast a murderous glance at Don, thinking she had wasted far too much time on this "small character." But how had Ranni awakened?
A premonition flashed through her mind—she realized this was a trap!
ROAR—
A violent gale howled as a massive Glintstone Dragon screamed up from the cliffs. Atop its back stood a Troll, lifting a massive stone club and bringing it down with crushing force.
BOOM!
The mountaintop trembled. Iji's voice roared through the night: "Alecto! It has been but a few days; hast thou come to seek death again!?"
The drum of hooves was rapid as a spectral knight charged into view. As the warhorse reared, the rider gathered a massive Greatbow of light in his hands.
"You were prepared for this?" Don turned back in shock.
"I had preparations, though I did not expect them to arrive so soon, nor to wear the skin of Blaidd." Ranni's exquisite face was expressionless, making it impossible to tell if she were pleased or annoyed. "However... thank thee for buying the necessary time."
Ranni took a light step forward. The moment her foot touched the ground, the earth froze instantly. A pure white frost spread outward, turning houses and flora into ice sculptures.
"小心 (Careful)!" the Black Knife Ringleader hissed. Such wide-area coverage magic was the natural counter to assassins, and more importantly—
Whoosh.
Four spears of light whistled through the air. With frozen ground below and giant arrows above, one assassin was caught in the blast and reduced to red mist—the very one Don had "played" earlier. The others vanished instantly into the air.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The Troll swung his club, sending shards of ice flying. The dilapidated houses collapsed into rubble. Not finished, he drove the club into the soil and violently upended the earth.
Mountain Fall!
The mountaintop turned into a localized sandstorm. Don saw blurred silhouettes appearing in the air. Then the Glintstone Dragon swept past, its maw catching a screaming assassin. It tilted its head back and swallowed her whole with a sickening crunch.
The tide turned in an instant. Assassins were never meant to trade blows with heavy-armored monsters on open ground, especially with a demigod overseeing the field.
Alecto wove through the dust, leaping several meters with each step. Despite minimizing her contact with the ground, her boots were already coated in a layer of frost. She looked back, her pupils constricting.
Ranni had seemingly slipped the bonds of gravity, floating effortlessly into the air. She spun, transforming into a sphere of cold, Dark Moon energy that screamed toward them.
"Withdraw!"
No order was necessary; every assassin was already sprinting for the cliffs. But the moon was too fast. Anyone within ten meters was flash-frozen before being consumed by the darkness.
It was a failure.
Alecto, the swiftest among them, threw herself over the precipice. Before her was a drop of hundreds of meters; behind her was the shattering of a Dark Moon. Violent magical energy swept over her, freezing half of her body.
She struggled to turn back, seeing her subordinates consumed by the magic, seeing the elegant doll-maiden, and seeing the swordsman standing beside her.
"I VOW... THE BLACK KNIVES SHALL REAP THY LIFE!"
The scream echoed through the night, and then all was buried by the exploding light of the Dark Moon. The cliffside crumbled. The howling, frigid wind leveled every structure save for the three magic towers. Don shielded his face, feeling his entire body being lifted by the gale.
When the "immortals" fought, any mortal technique seemed pale and useless. Fortunately, a cold hand caught his collar and pinned him to the ground.
The fierce wind finally died down. The full moon's light fell once more. Don, covered in frost, blinked his eyes, feeling his very thoughts were frozen.
"She seems to have taken a dislike to thee," Ranni remarked casually, looking at the shivering Don. "Art thou cold?"
"A-a little." Don's lips twitched. He was certain his face was a shade of violet, but he forced himself to endure.
"The assassins... have they retreated?"
"Yes. Black Knives excel at disguise, poison, and ambush. Confronting us head-on is not the choice of the wise. However... thy actions earlier were excessively reckless. There were better ways." Ranni's eyes were full of curiosity.
Don shook his head. Now that he had calmed down, he realized he could have stayed out of the mess entirely. But he didn't regret it. Nor did he spout platitudes of loyalty to gain favor. He simply replied: "The hand moves faster than the brain. That is what it means to be a swordsman."
Ranni's gaze sharpened. She hadn't expected that answer. A reckless man would be shaking with fear now; a clever man would speak of his duty to his master. This answer seemed irrelevant, yet it perfectly aligned with the essence of his character.
"I do not quite grasp thy 'way,' but pray, accept my respect. Thus, we are even."
"You mean for saving my life?" Don blurted out.
"Thou art my knight; protecting thee is my duty." Ranni paused, then suddenly lowered her voice. "As for those words that brought shame to the witch Ranni... let us speak of them no more."
At first, Don didn't react. It wasn't until Ranni had walked away to inspect the field that his eyes widened inch by inch.
Wait... she heard my "pledged our lives to each other" trash-talk to the assassin?!
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