The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

From the moment Rinze first saw the boy during the match with Gunther, she knew.

His movements were smooth as if slicing through space, light yet carrying a certain heaviness.

And within those movements, an icy, merciless aura was emanated.

Only one place on this continent could produce such beings.

“Mist…”

The place she had been part of, where she had gained her strength, and what she thought she had left behind.

Despite possessing divine power, they continued a meaningless wait for a successor.

Without a doubt, the boy was from Mist.

It was rare for them to show themselves, so what business did they have in Lambusta?

Rinze realized it wasn’t too hard to figure out.

They had come to kill her.

As long as there existed someone outside their own who could wield the power of Aer, they would inevitably come to eliminate her.

But just a boy?

She thought it seemed like Silica, that woman, was underestimating her too much.

To think they would try to assassinate her with just a rank-and-file member.

It was laughably absurd.

However, there was one interesting point.

The sword the boy had used.

A sinister aura emanated from the purple blade and the black jewel embedded in the hilt.

At first glance, it closely resembled the cursed swords of Aer, known as Kaeram.

But she quickly dismissed the thought.

A cursed sword here, of all places? That couldn’t possibly be.

The existence of such a sword meant its wielder must be a successor, but Rinze did not believe for a moment that the boy was the successor.

To her, a successor was as good as a non-existent entity in this world, so much so that she had even thought herself capable of taking on the role of the successor.

But now, standing before her was the very thing she thought she would never encounter, the owner of the cursed sword, a recipient of Aer’s mark, a successor.

* * *

The mist escaping from Kaeram enveloped my entire body.

-Hissss-

A situation where two spaces that shouldn’t coexist were located in the same place.

Because of this, the mists within the space of Mu (Fog) that had been constricting me started to churn violently.

There’s a common misconception among people: the power of the black mist isn’t as luxurious as to destroy all things in the world.

It simply neutralizes the existence of things.

Just as it calms a crying child back into a tranquil state.

That’s exactly the power of the mist.

-Crack-

“My- my mist?”

A crack formed in the space along with the sound of a window breaking.

Her mist dissipated helplessly without any resistance.

Strictly speaking, it didn’t disappear but was absorbed by my mist.

I finished preparing and shouted towards her.

“Shadow Art 6th Form: Space of Mu (Fog)!”

It was the same secret technique she had used.

But that doesn’t mean the power is the same.

Still, shouldn’t we verify it?

To see what kind of power this much-detested successor possesses.

“Do you think I would submit to your mist?!”

She did not retreat, and accepted the Space of Mu (Fog) with a loud roar.

In truth, it was right to say there was no escape.

This was a subspace created by the power of the mist.

There was nowhere to flee from the mist.

“Ugh!”

She was desperate.

Her eyes were filled with a strong will, as if she would not let herself be assimilated by my mist no matter what.

But how can the affairs of the world be resolved with will alone?

As the mist tightened around her and she writhed in agony, thinking this would end without incident,

-Poof-

The Space of Mu (Fog) vanished.

“Haa, haa…”

She had managed to dispel it after all.

The unexpected outcome surprised her momentarily,

but soon, with fire in her eyes, she yelled at me.

“Those eyes! Those despicable eyes that seem to crush me! You’re no different from that woman!”

I never expected to hear such words.

Since when did my eyes start to resemble those of the clan leader?

“Do you always have to stand in my way? I am the true heir who should inherit the power of Aer…”

[Then prove it.]

Rinze’s gaze shifted to Kaeram beside her.

[Everything is proven by results. If you truly are the worthy successor to inherit that foolish god’s power, why not kill this successor right here? There’s no better proof than that.]

That- that, devilish cursed sword is taunting again.

Provoking her for its own amusement, it seems.

But then, staying quiet in this situation would be stranger.

“…!”

There’s not much to say when our eyes meet.

When I raised my eyebrows as if to say, “Do as you wish,” her eyes filled with anger once again.

“Mist, successor… You are of no help to me.”

-Swoosh

At that moment, a dagger appeared in her hand.

“So I will kill you all and take my place at the center! No one can stop me!”

-Thud

Do you know one thing an assassin should never do?

It’s to rush in blindly, driven by emotion.

Even though it’s been a long time since I left the organization, I can’t understand how she expects to stand at the center, forgetting even the basics of assassination.

Isn’t it said that one needs to be worthy to possess power?

That’s true.

The power given should not be hoarded but used generously.

That way, you won’t have regrets later.

-Slash

The sensation of limbs being severed was conveyed vividly.

A single motion was sufficient, and I slowly exhaled as I lowered my sword.

-Drip drop

Soon, the mist cleared, and from above, blood poured down like rain.

[Isn’t that ending too anticlimactic?]

Kaeram asked with a dissatisfied expression.

“There was no need to make it complicated…”

I replied, as always, with indifference.

* * *

While Lisa watched the bloody conflict between Rinze and the boy, she felt utterly powerless.

To call it a battle was almost misleading; it was more like one side completely overpowering the other, similar to how the boy had effortlessly dominated his opponent in the arena before.

It was disheartening.

To think that the person she considered the strongest among all those she had seen would meet such a grotesque end, displaying such an ugly sight.

Beyond feeling empty, a sense of helplessness and misery weighed heavily on her.

The boy looked at her. Although Lisa still held a knife in her hand, there wasn’t a trace of wariness on the boy’s face.

It seemed obvious to her. To him, she must be nothing more than an insect he could squash at any moment.

He started walking towards her, step by step.

All Lisa could do was meet his gaze.

After maintaining eye contact with her weary eyes for three seconds, Lisa silently closed her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

To the boy’s question, she responded with resignation.

“Please, just make it painless if you’re going to do it…”

It was essentially a coerced request, masquerading as a plea.

“I know it’s shameless of me to ask this, considering I tried to kill you. If you refuse, I can’t help it. I’ll accept it gracefully.”

The boy let out a short laugh and then squatted down in front of her, asking,

“Do you really think I’m going to kill you?”

“Of course. I tried to kill you, and I saw something about you that others shouldn’t know. There’s no reason for you to let me live. It makes sense for you to kill me, even just to silence me…”

“I’m not going to kill you.”

Her eyes snapped open in an instant.

* * *

Manager here is making some risky statements.

Regardless, there’s nothing as precious as life itself, so why give up on it so easily?

“What did you just say…?”

“I said I’m not going to kill you.”

“Oh, that means you’ll cut off my limbs one by one and make me suffer until the end…”

“I have no such plans. I’m letting you go unharmed.”

“…?”

She looked at me with a mix of confusion and shock, silently observing me.

In return, I met her gaze with calmness.

There’s another common misconception about Mist: our goal is assassination, not massacre.

Once the intended target is eliminated, the mission is considered complete; further killing is unnecessary.

It didn’t take long for her to speak again.

“Don’t lie! There’s a limit to making fun of someone! You’re an assassin! Since when does an assassin spare the life of someone who tried to kill them? Which assassin does that?”

I calmly responded.

“It wasn’t really your choice, was it?”

“Well, that’s true but…”

It was evident from the moment our swords clashed.

Alongside the intent to kill me was a profound sense of despair, knowing that it was absolutely impossible.

She was merely following the orders of her owner, forced to confront me.

“But I know you’re an assassin from Mist…”

“So? Planning to shout it from the rooftops?”

“No, no! I wouldn’t say a word!”

Isn’t that settled then?

Even if she talks, nobody would remember my face anyway.

“Are you really not going to kill me?”

“Are we going to keep going in circles? How many more times do we need to go over this?”

It seemed like even a hundred explanations wouldn’t be enough for her.

“You’re quite lenient for an assassin…”

I couldn’t deny it, so I just snorted.

“Let me ask you one thing.”

The question seemed to catch her off-guard, sparking curiosity in her eyes once again.

“I’ve been wondering, and it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Why did you tell me to leave?”

Despite being tasked with Rinze’s orders, she showed unnecessary compassion by telling me to flee if I wanted to live.

Was there really a need for that?

After all, we were nothing more than customer and server.

Her gaze, filled with contemplation, eventually shifted to Rinze’s gruesomely slaughtered body.

Situations like these were more common than one might think.

After dealing with the target, there were often others still present.

It might seem odd, but Mist’s objective is strictly assassination, not massacre.

Once the target is dealt with, that’s the end of it; we don’t unnecessarily kill bystanders.

With a sigh, perhaps feeling a mix of emptiness and relief, she spoke.

“I don’t know if this explains anything…”

I’ll decide that after hearing it.

“It was when we were around your age that Gunther and I first came here…”

(To be continued)