Lacerta exhaled sharply, wincing as he drew in another breath of the powder-filled air. He surveyed his opponents, his expression a mask of indifference.
They glared back in silence, their shock likely concealed behind their masks as they watched the last of their work on him vanish. He wasn't even remotely exhausted.
This level of strength is fine… I can push it further, right up to the blade's breaking point.
—Tap...
The moment he heard the familiar sound, he held perfectly still, his gaze fixed, tracking their next move.
In an instant, the assassin duo repositioned through the haze. Lacerta didn't hesitate, dashing toward Cleaver as the larger man raised his massive blade to meet the charge. The impact was seismic; Lacerta's katana met the greatsword with an anguish cry of metal. Despite his childish frame, Lacerta's strength was overwhelming, driving the much larger man back a step.
A flash of steel from his flank—Knife. Lacerta twisted, his body a blur. The dagger came in a furious tidal wave of attacks, each strike aimed at a vital point.
But Lacerta expertly weaved through the slashes, then dropped low, lunging inside Knife's guard between two attacks. A sharp shoulder check smashed into the assassin's chest, sending him staggering backwards.
Cleaver: ["—HAH!"]
Cleaver roared, bringing his giant blade whistling down toward the back of Lacerta's neck.
Lacerta didn't turn. He simply flickered into a blur of motion, stepping behind the descending blade as it carved through empty air and slammed into the cobblestones. Cleaver tried to yank it free but found it pinned beneath Lacerta's boot.
Cleaver: ["——Urgk?!"]
Lacerta: ["Well… I see why Haldran did that to me now."]
He sprang from the grounded sword, driving his knee upward. It connected with Cleaver's chin with an immense crack.
The man's head snapped back, his mask shattering into fragments to reveal a bloody, stunned face.
Lacerta: ["'Cause you're wide open!"]
Before his feet even touched the ground, Lacerta twisted in mid-air. The same leg that delivered the knee now whipped around, his heel smashing into Cleaver's chest. The impact sent the large man flying backward to slam into the moss-covered alley wall.
Cleaver hit the wall with a thud and slumped down, gasping. The moment he inhaled the thick, powdered air, his eyes went bloodshot and he began to choke violently. He clearly lacked Lacerta's immunity.
After all…. I'm already used to it.
Tap… Tap…
The instant Lacerta heard the sound, an uncontrollable, maniacal grin spread across his face—a testament to his excitement and the fact that he'd already deciphered its signal.
Lacerta: ["I thought you knew already…."]
Pivoting, Lacerta deliberately rolled his neck while simultaneously stepping left watching as the dagger sliced through the empty space he'd just occupied.
Lacerta: ["—Not to fight me one on one..."]
Knife ignored the taunt and attempted to to retract his blade, though instead he felt only searing pain as he did so. His hand, severed from its wrist in a wild spray of blood, dropped to the ground as he stumbled backward with a groan.
Knife: ["—Tch!"]
This man possessed a surprising degree of pain resistance, taking the loss of a limb far better than the previous group Lacerta had fought.
Instantly, Knife retaliated with his remaining hand, swinging the dagger's tip toward Lacerta's side.
Responding with equal boldness, Lacerta lunged inside Knife's guard. He raised his own arm, intercepting the dagger's swing before it could connect and trapping Knife's remaining forearm between his arm and side.
Knife: ["—Shit."]
In that instant, Lacerta cleanly slashed Knife's neck, claiming another head with an utterly inescapable slash.
Pushing aside the headless assassin's corpse, Lacerta turned toward Cleaver, who was still hacking and gasping within the mist-filled air.
Lacerta closed the distance at a casual pace, each step forward an intense display of his bloodlust—all of it being targeted at Cleaver.
Lacerta: ["I've got a question for you."]
At his words, Cleaver's head snapped up. His bloodshot eyes narrowed with rage, and his breath heaved in ragged bursts.
Cleaver: ["You damn… little shit… hahkk…"]
With a roar, Cleaver snatched his weapon from the ground and lunged like a rabid beast, raising the heavy blade to split Lacerta in two.
Lacerta: ["———"]
Cleaver: ["—DIE!"]
But before Cleaver's blade could truly fall, there was a blur of motion that the assassin simply couldn't register. Lacerta's katana slid from his side in a single, imperceptible stroke that met the charging man. Cleaver's attack froze mid-swing. He wobbled, his own momentum carrying him forward as he collapsed to his knees.
As Cleaver pitched forward, Lacerta flicked his katana clean, turning away the very instant a fatal red line bloomed across the man's torso.
Stopping in the center of the alleyway, Lacerta sheathed his katana in a single, fluid motion and let out a controlled breath. His nose twitched with understanding as the irritating powder in the air began to subside. He wiped the reflexive tears from his eyes.
Lacerta: ["So that's how it is…"]
He muttered, shifting his gaze to the T-junction of the alley before speaking again, his voice clear and commanding.
Lacerta: ["You can come out now."]
Several seconds of silence passed, yet Lacerta remained perfectly still, a statue waiting in the gloom.
Finally, the final assassin emerged from the shadows of a corner—the unarmed one of the group.
Spoon: ["So you knew. I shouldn't have been surprised, you butchered my comrades like they were toys after all."]
Lacerta tilted his head, a faint glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.
Lacerta: ["—You feel no anger? No sadness?"]
Spoon chuckled, the sound muffled by his mask.
Spoon: ["Why would I? We were comrades, so perhaps a step above strangers, but that was all. They would have felt the same had our positions been reversed, though…. it seems fate had a… different plan."]
Lacerta's eyes narrowed at the assessment.
Lacerta: ["What makes you think I won't kill you right now, like the others?"]
Spoon shook his head calmly.
Spoon: ["Because we are similar—a realization I had while watching you fight through my powder. You need me. If I die, you'll be back at the start, no closer to your objective… whatever that may be."]
Lacerta: ["—What makes you say we're the same?"]
Spoon stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back.
Spoon: ["While I am no match for you in combat, neither of us fears death. I saw it when you caught that dagger—a flicker of acknowledgement, but no fear. Nothing."]
Lacerta: ["I… see…"]
Spoon gave a swift nod.
Spoon: ["—Well?"]
Lacerta raised a brow.
Lacerta: ["Well, what?"]
Spoon: ["Aren't you going to ask the assassin you spared for information?"]
Lacerta: ["Ah, right. Have you heard of a man named Caro Mendin?"]
A moment of heavy silence followed. Spoon rested a hand on the bottom of his mask in thought.
Spoon: ["You're looking for the silver-eyed traitor? Hah… that's unexpected…"]
Lacerta's brows furrowed at the title.
Lacerta: ["You know him?"]
Spoon nodded.
Spoon: ["The Feast isn't just a simple street cult like you might think. We are a network of extremists who believe 'strength is law' to a degree the rest of the Vollachian Empire would find absurd."]
Lacerta: ["And you're different?"]
Spoon: ["I'd like to believe so. I am not foolish enough to let belief blind my judgment, though it is a philosophy I agree with."]
Taking Lacerta's silence as affirmation, he continued.
Spoon: ["Our network operates within Guaral's underbelly, including traders, smugglers, and mercenaries. Caro Mendin was one such person. For a time, he was allowed to exploit our connections to smuggle his goods. But when he tried to back out… it was, of course, not allowed."]
Lacerta sighed.
Lacerta: ["So, is he already dead?"]
Spoon: ["That is a good question that I do not know… though the answer depends on what he thinks."]
Lacerta's eyes twitched.
Lacerta: ["'He'?"]
Spoon's body seized slightly—not with fear, but with grim acknowledgment.
Spoon: ["The Eater of Strength… and the leader of The Feast…. Vola Dardain."]