Black Wind 6
For a Baron renowned for his martial prowess and knightly pride, assassins were the lowest of the low—contemptible scum who relied on cowardly tactics to claim lives. Both the assassins themselves and those who would stoop to employing them were utterly beneath respect. Despite the beads of cold sweat trickling down his forehead, the Baron did not lower his sword, keeping his gaze fixed on the underbrush.
After a tense moment, the bushes rustled, and a lone boy staggered out. He was clad in black, a hood pulled low over his face, obscuring his features. Judging by his size, he seemed to be about the same age as Innyebori. The unexpected sight of such a young opponent made the Baron widen his eyes in surprise. But the boy, in turn, spoke in an admiring tone.
"You're something else. How are you still standing?"
"—I've built up a tolerance to poisons."
"Even so, there's gotta be a limit to that."
The boy smirked. Despite the overwhelming presence the Baron exuded, the boy showed no sign of fear. Seeing this, the Baron furrowed his brow—and then, as if the pieces had finally fallen into place, he spoke.
“You… You’re from the Great Calamity Clan, aren’t you?”
Now it was the boy’s turn to be surprised.
“Well, aren’t you sharp, old man.”
“Assassins like you are rare enough, after all,” the Baron spat out.
The underworld was full of killers, but child assassins of such skill were exceedingly uncommon. It took years of rigorous training from a very young age to produce an assassin of this caliber, which meant only an organized group could be behind it. And there was only one such group—the Clan of the Great Calamity, known for producing elite assassins.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
The boy nodded in agreement, then grinned.
“But it’s too bad for you. Since I’m the one who was sent after you, you’re not walking out of here alive. Don’t worry though, I’ll make it quick. No hard feelings, alright, old man?”
His words carried a confidence that could only come from experience. There was no hesitation in his voice. And the Baron realized that the boy had the strength to back up his claims.
“In that case, I have one last request before I go to the afterlife—tell me your name, young assassin.”
“Seriously? You want to know my name? Ugh, I hate what people call me.”
The boy’s expression briefly showed the frustration of someone his age, but the Baron didn’t react. He kept a stern, unwavering gaze on the boy, holding himself up through sheer force of will. The boy, seeing the Baron wasn’t going to let it go, shrugged as if to say, “Well, whatever.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter since you’re gonna die anyway. Fine, I’ll tell you. They call me the Death Worm. Lame, right?”
He raised his empty hand to shoulder height as if to emphasize his words, but the Baron wasn’t fooled. The boy was undoubtedly concealing a weapon somewhere, ready to strike in a moment’s notice, killing his target before they even realized what had happened.
“Fitting name for an insect, lurking in the woods like this,” the Baron said, forcing a smirk despite the pain that made even breathing difficult. The boy tilted his head slightly, as if puzzled by the Baron’s insistence on standing his ground. It was as though he wanted to say, “Why don’t you just give up and fall already?” But the Baron refused to fall. He was determined to burn the image of his would-be killer into his mind until the very end.
“I’ve got other things to do, you know, so let’s wrap this up quickly.”
“Very well. Then tell your master this—”
A grim smile spread across the Baron’s face.
“—that the target has escaped.”
In the next instant, the Baron’s left arm began to glow.
“What the—?!”
The boy squinted against the sudden brightness, instinctively closing his eyes. When he opened them again, the Baron was gone.
*****
Realizing that his target had vanished, the boy who called himself Death Worm scratched his head.
“Man, I really screwed up. Never thought he’d have a teleportation array.”
Wasn’t he supposed to be your typical warrior? The boy tilted his head in confusion. In his experience, "typical warriors" avoided magic and Curse like the plague. Even knights often balked at working alongside mages. On the other hand, mages tended to view knights and warriors as brutish and unrefined. Though mage-knights—those who combined the skills of a knight and a mage—were generally more accepted by knights, they still leaned heavily on magic, making them less appealing to traditional warriors. And Baron Kennys was no mage-knight; he was a straightforward knight.
“Well, whatever. No one’s surviving after being poisoned like that anyway.”
The boy knew that Baron Kennys was a renowned warrior, a veteran who had defended the borders for years. That was precisely why he had carefully chosen the time and place for the attack.
Reports indicated that the lords on the side of the Yunatian Empire had been making unsettling moves recently. Given that, it was almost certain that the Baron would visit the border fortress. And if he made the trip, he would likely want to assess the neighboring country’s situation personally. Few in the Baron’s order of knights could match his skill, so he would probably travel with only a small entourage when inspecting the border.
Sure enough, the Baron had come with only his vice-captain, clad in simple armor. An archer wouldn’t have been able to put a scratch on him, but for the boy, it had been an easy task. He had hidden multiple poisoned needles in the undergrowth, and one of them had found its mark, slipping through the gaps in the Baron’s armor to pierce his skin. Even if the poisoned needles had failed, the Baron would have been vulnerable the moment he was thrown from his horse.
In the end, the boy’s plan had worked. The poisoned needle had struck the Baron’s left shoulder, causing it to fester, and the poison now coursing through his veins would soon claim his life. The poison the boy used was beyond the reach of any ordinary physician—no antidote existed. Healing magic might save him, but only in the hands of an exceptionally skilled practitioner.
This was why the boy had waited for the Baron to visit the border fortress. He was sure there were capable healing mages at the Baron’s estate, but it made no sense to risk bringing such valuable mages into a dangerous area, even if preparations for battle had been made.
The boy didn’t know where the Baron had teleported to, but he assumed it was likely the fortress. Teleportation arrays couldn’t cover long distances, and using one for long-range travel required approval from the Magic Ministry. In the Kingdom of Slibegrad, the only long-range teleportation arrays were in the royal palace. In other words, the Baron’s chances of survival were nearly zero.
“But I guess I should check, just to be sure.”
The boy started walking toward the fortress, thinking it necessary to confirm where the Baron had teleported. He wondered if he might run into the young man who had left earlier, but he saw no sign of him. The boy was incredibly fast; he should have caught up to the man along the way, but there wasn’t even a trace of him. It wasn’t the kind of road where someone could easily slip by unnoticed.
Had the man taken a different route, or had he simply not returned to the fortress? Maybe he had felt guilty about abandoning the Baron and gone back to the scene.
Either way, the young man wasn’t the boy’s target. Nor did he stir the boy’s blood enough to make him worth pursuing. With no interest in tracking him down, the boy finally reached the fortress, where things were in an uproar. It was clear that the knights were deeply shaken.
“Should I sneak inside?”
Muttering to himself, the boy nimbly slipped into the fortress, hiding in the shadows. To his surprise, the man who had been with the Baron was already in the fortress courtyard, drenched in sweat and pale-faced as he recounted how they had been attacked by an assassin. The knights’ reactions were divided into two camps: those who were confident the Baron was safe and those who insisted they should go help him immediately. None of them seemed to consider the possibility that the Baron was already dead, and the boy chuckled at their naivety.
“You’re wasting your time.”
He whispered the words to no one in particular and then walked away. He checked a few rooms, just in case, but the Baron was nowhere to be found.
“He’s not here. Not that surprising, though. Pulling off a teleportation spell in that condition? No way.”
The boy muttered to himself. Teleportation required intense concentration and precise control of one’s magical energy—everyone knew that. But for someone on the verge of death from poison to pull it off correctly? Highly unlikely.
If the teleportation had been successful, the Baron would have been somewhere in the fortress, but he was nowhere to be seen. There was only one conclusion: the Baron had failed the teleportation and ended up somewhere else entirely. Being so close to the border, there weren’t many houses around. Even if someone found him, he’d likely die before they could summon a doctor.
“Well then, I guess that wraps up this job.”
He hadn’t confirmed the body, but there were other tasks waiting for him. Without anyone noticing, the boy vanished from the Baron Kennys’s domain. In his hand, he held an apple he’d bought at a local shop in the territory.
*****
Pain shot through his body, the poison spreading rapidly through his veins. Even so, Baron Kennys had not given up.
He had learned through years of experience that giving up was the same as welcoming death. The moment a person lost the will to live, death would surely follow. On the battlefield, he had seen countless comrades who, despite suffering the same injuries as others, survived simply because they refused to die, while those who doubted their survival perished.
—That was why, even to his last breath, the Baron glared defiantly at the assassin.
Duke Ealdred, the young man in whom he had once placed his hopes, had finally decided to step into the spotlight. Kennys knew he couldn’t die before witnessing the future that the duke was shaping, the future that Crown Prince Riley had entrusted to him. He was also aware that, at times, his own strength would be needed.
—And so, dying here was simply not an option.
The bracelet on the Baron’s left wrist was a magical artifact. It had been enclosed with a letter from Duke Ealdred, warning him of the impending danger. If infused with magic, it would allow him to teleport one person to safety. The destination was predetermined, and the duke had assured him it was completely secure.
The boy had left no openings. If he had noticed that the bracelet was an artifact imbued with teleportation magic, he would have taken it before the Baron could use it. That’s why Kennys knew that the only moment to escape would be when the boy’s focus was entirely on delivering the finishing blow.
When he first read the letter, Kennys had been furious at the thought of fleeing in the face of the enemy, something no knight should ever do. But since it was Duke Ealdred’s advice, he had reluctantly worn the bracelet. He never imagined it would prove so useful so soon.
“My lord!”
The Baron reappeared in the study of his estate. The butler, who had just brought in some documents, spun around at the sudden noise, his eyes widening in shock.
“What has happened to you, my lord? Your shoulder—!”
The Baron, who was supposed to be at the border fortress, had suddenly returned without warning, clutching his left shoulder as he fell to his knees. His face was slick with cold sweat, and a guttural groan escaped through clenched teeth. The pain was evident in his ashen face. His body swayed, and he collapsed to the floor, consciousness slipping away as the warmth slowly drained from his body.
“Get a doctor—now!”
The butler shouted, his expression grim. The entire estate was thrown into chaos.
Though the butler had served the Baron for many years, and was initially shaken, he quickly regained his composure, preparing to save his master. He swiftly removed the Baron’s armor and clothes, exposing the wound. The left shoulder was festering, and he guessed it was poisoned. Normally, one would try to suck out the poison, but considering that the Baron, who was known to have a strong resistance to toxins, had lost consciousness, it was too risky to do so.
The butler donned gloves and began pressing the wound with both hands, trying to drain the blood. He had no idea how much time had passed since the Baron was injured, and he knew this was likely a futile effort, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.
The doctor arrived promptly, and the butler entrusted the Baron to him. Everyone in the household looked on in horror as the motionless body of their lord was tended to, their faces drained of color.
******
It was a bright, sunny day. Liliana was in the garden of her estate, enjoying some tea while reading a book when she suddenly looked up. Not too far away, Gild and Olga stood watch. Though they appeared relaxed, they were fully prepared to repel any assassins or intruders that might dare step onto the property. Yet, neither of them made a move. The approaching presence was one that Liliana recognized.
(Oh, Marianne... You look rather pale.)
Tilting her head slightly in concern, Liliana wondered what had happened. Marianne was clutching a letter tightly in her hand, her face ashen. The fact that it had already been opened suggested it was addressed to Marianne herself. Whatever the contents were, they clearly weren’t good news.
As Liliana continued to watch Marianne approach, she noticed the girl’s lips trembling as she spoke in a near-tearful voice.
“My lady… I’m terribly sorry, but I must ask for some time off—”
<What’s the matter?>
Liliana had no objections to granting her time off, but as her employer, she wanted to know the reason. Without letting her expression waver, Liliana wrote her question down on a piece of paper. Marianne’s eyelids fluttered, on the verge of tears, but she did not let them fall.
“My father… He was attacked by an assassin and is now in critical condition…”
Liliana’s eyes widened.
She had met Marianne’s father, Baron Kennys, once before. It was during the time when the Baron visited the royal capital to apprehend the culprit behind the disappearance of the “northern immigrants” in his domain. Ever since then, Liliana had felt that the Baron was keeping a close watch on her. It wasn’t to the point of being surveillance, and Liliana herself was also monitoring his movements, so she didn’t mind. But even so, Liliana had judged that the likelihood of Baron Kennys being attacked by assassins was low. In fact, in the otome game from her previous life, the Baron was only mentioned by name.
Because of that, she had felt reassured that nothing would happen to cause Marianne grief. However, upon further reflection, Liliana realized that nowhere had it been stated that Baron Kennys was Marianne’s father. It was possible that in this world, her father had already passed away, and her brother had succeeded the title.
(How careless of me…)
As an employer, it was her duty to ensure that her subordinates could live comfortably. Failing to do so was an inexcusable oversight, and Liliana silently chastised herself. She had been too set in her assumptions.
Suppressing her inner turmoil, Liliana put on a worried expression and wrote more words on the paper in front of her.
<Of course, take all the time you need to be with your father. Please feel free to use the ducal family’s carriage.>
“My lady… thank you so much.”
Marianne’s face crumpled with emotion. Liliana shook her head, indicating that it was no trouble at all. As a Baron’s daughter, even if she was serving as a maid, it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to use a hired carriage. And summoning the Baron’s own carriage would take time. Lending her the Clark ducal family’s carriage was the most efficient option.
Liliana urged Marianne to prepare for immediate departure, then stood up herself. She informed Gild and Olga that she was returning to her room and instructed another maid to clear away the tea set.
Once back in her room, Liliana pulled out a piece of paper cut in the shape of a bird from her desk drawer.
“<Tracking>”
As she cast the spell, the paper transformed into a transparent bird and flew through the wall, beginning to track Marianne. Since the target of the assassination was the Baron, it was unlikely that his youngest daughter, Marianne, would be targeted as well. However, Liliana couldn’t completely rule out the possibility of danger. She needed to take every precaution she could.
(Although Marianne wasn’t mentioned in the game, I suspect she might have perished during the monster stampede that I was caught up in.)
Therefore, there was no guarantee that Marianne would remain safe in the future.
Liliana reached back into her desk drawer and pulled out a necklace-shaped magical tool. Ever since Petra had begun teaching her curse magic, she had been diligently crafting magical tools as part of her studies. The tool in her hand was one of those creations. Rather than merely replicating designs from the instruction manual, she had been experimenting with combining various effects and even devising new ones. Although she lacked Petra’s innate talent for curse magic, or perhaps it was due to her lack of experience, she had only managed to create a few successful prototypes. However, some of them had indeed been imbued with new, functional properties.
“My lady—”
There was a knock on the door, and Marianne entered the room. Liliana turned to face her, noticing the transparent bird floating just behind Marianne.
“Thank you for your kindness. I’ll be leaving immediately.”
<Yes, please be careful. It’s a long journey, so would you wear this pendant for me?>
Liliana handed the magical tool to Marianne. Marianne’s eyes widened in surprise. She took the pendant and stared at it intently before her face softened slightly, a hint of warmth returning to her tired expression.
“Oh, what a lovely pendant. Thank you, my lady.”
<Think nothing of it. It’s meant to protect you, so I would be glad if you could keep it on at all times.>
At Liliana’s words, Marianne put on the pendant. The simple design of the pendant matched any outfit. After expressing her gratitude once more, Marianne hurried out of the room. Liliana watched her leave, then closed the door and sat back down in her chair.
“Come out now, Ajulite.”
As if on cue, a black lion emerged from the shadows behind the bed. Seeing this, Liliana smiled.
“Were you hiding? No one else can see you, you know.”
[It’s the principle of the matter] Azurite replied, his tone somewhat indignant. Amused by his response, Liliana glanced at the lion’s back.
“You’ve kept your wings hidden today, I see.”
[They get in the way.]
“That must be convenient.”
Retractable wings were quite rare. Liliana, genuinely impressed, looked at Ajulite with interest. The lion then turned his gaze toward the door Marianne had just exited.
[The thing you gave her is a magical tool, isn’t it? It seems to have quite a few enchantments.]
“Oh, you noticed?”
Liliana chuckled softly. Ajulite gave her an exasperated look, as if to say, Of course, I did.
“You’re correct. It’s enchanted with four functions: location tracking, defense against both magical and physical attacks, healing, and a notification to me if it’s unable to ensure her safety.”
[That’s a bit overprotective.]
“Do you think so?”
Liliana tilted her head slightly, resting a hand on her cheek. Azurite looked up at her with a curious expression.
[You seem quite fond of that girl.]
“Fond… Yes, I suppose you could say that.”
But even as she admitted it, Liliana’s tone was detached, as if discussing someone else entirely. Ajulite blinked in surprise, but Liliana simply smiled, offering no further explanation.
Indeed, Liliana was probably fond of Marianne.
She also cared deeply for Gild, Olga, Petra, and Ben. She genuinely felt that she would help them if they were ever in need. If someone other than Marianne had requested time off to tend to an ailing parent, Liliana would have granted it. If she deemed it necessary, she would have given them the same magical tool she had given Marianne. However, she didn’t see much difference between helping them and rescuing a stray cat or dog.
Of course, she knew she couldn’t save every life. There would be times when she had to let go, and when that time came, Liliana could do so without hesitation. Still, she had learned that it was her duty as a leader to avoid creating such situations whenever possible.
And because of this, Liliana knew that she could never be like Marianne.
If Liliana were informed that her parent was critically ill, she wouldn’t panic or show any outward distress. Even if that parent passed away as a result, she wouldn’t shed a single tear. She would simply accept the reality that another life had quietly faded away.
—-