In the curtain of rain, Allen reached to the side of his neck, scooped up some blood, and pressed his hand over the wound.
Blood mixed with rainwater flowed through his fingers.
Just before this motion, he had already activated a healing magic rune. A mid-level healing spell instantly sealed the clean slash wound, but even so, some blood had seeped into his trachea, leaving a rusty taste of iron in his throat.
He covered his neck not because of pain—but to hide the use of healing magic, feigning weakness. The opponent was clearly strong. Best not to reveal his trump cards.
He looked up, scrutinizing the four rabbit ears visible in the rain, a flash of surprise in his eyes.
Rabbit ears? I think that's the Miltait tribe? That strong? Who are they?
Fragments of the original plot flew through his mind, but before he could grasp the situation fully, the enemy spoke first.
The male Miltait wearing leather chainmail on the left called out through the rain in a playful tone.
"Well, well~ that carefully planned strike didn't kill him. Impressive. That really was Mukōon no Tachi (Silent Blade)? And that fast? Not just Suijin Ryū (Water God Style)? You've trained in Kenshin Ryū (Sword God Style) too?! What a terrifying and envy-worthy talent. If he knew Hikari no Tachi (Light Blade), we'd really be screwed. Don't you think so, Jad?"
The rabbit-eared girl beside him—small, provocatively dressed in black wrappings—spoke in a flirtatious voice.
"Mhm~, Nacule-nii~ He's scary~"
She pulled at her vibrant red hair, running her gaze up and down Allen's body. Her soaked wrappings clung tightly to her figure under the rain.
"As Northern God Sword Kings, do you think we can make it out alive facing someone like that?" Nacule asked, eyes fixed on Allen's wound-covered hand.
"Who knows?" she replied with a teasing pout. "But…"
She stuck out her tongue.
"If we can't kill him, can't we still kill those little brats next to him?"
Hokushin Ryū—Kiba Branch. On the battlefield, they used any advantage they could, including beauty...
And deception.
But the person standing in front of them was someone who knew the plot.
Allen stared at the two with a hint of mockery in his eyes.
Nacule and Jad.
Twin brothers, each bearing a different name.
Together, they made up the "Twin Blades"—Northern King of Hokushin Ryū.
In the original timeline, during the Asura royal succession war, they were hired by Darius to block Ariel's group. Known for their identical looks, they pretended to be shadow clones.
Rudeus had turned his head just in time to watch Eris, newly promoted to Ken'ō (Sword King), slash them down at the cost of her own injury.
Each twin was only of the Hokushin-sei (North Saint) level on their own, but by combining forces, they reached Hokushin-ō (North King) caliber. However...
Allen looked again at the red-haired rabbit-eared woman. She didn't resemble Nacule, and her sword speed was slower.
She wasn't Jad. Just another same-tribe assassin, probably Jōkyū (Advanced) level.
As expected of Hokushin Ryū—bluff first. Try to scare your opponent into overreacting and exposing a weakness.
Allen's gaze drifted toward Philip's carriage in the distance—only to see the noble's face pale with panic, attempting to jump out. A servant was desperately holding him back as he thrashed and kicked with complete loss of composure.
At least the servant was loyal—he refused to let go.
Allen's eyes briefly flared with anger.
The situation had clearly spun out of Philip's control. The mission objective had turned from a fake kidnapping into a real assassination—targeting me. The butler must've leaked the information, which attracted James's attention. Ghislane hadn't arrived because she'd been delayed—likely by the other twin.
So the assassination squad lacked numbers...
Right now, Allen needed to maintain the illusion of weakness. Don't speak. Let them think his neck was still injured. When they rush in—
Strike with Iwa no Tachi (Rock Blade) and kill both instantly.
No problem...
".Ai... guh... Ai...len..."
A trembling voice called out in the rain—chattering teeth making the words hard to understand.
Allen blinked and turned his eyes.
Sylphy's face was covered in blood, her expression overwhelmed with fear. Her gaze locked on the hand Allen had pressed to his neck. Limbs trembling, she crawled desperately through the mud toward him.
Beside her, Eris stared blankly at Allen, her face peppered with tiny blood flecks from the sparks earlier, crimson pupils slowly widening under the rain and night.
THUD!
Smoke exploded!
Allen's pupils contracted, hand reaching for his sword—but from within the smoke, two figures suddenly dashed backward at high speed!
Shit! I overplayed it—they're running!!
Goddamn it, you really are Hokushin Ryū! Never fight a battle unprepared, huh?!
"Sylphy, I'm fine! Go heal Eris's face!!"
His hoarse voice cut through the rain.
But Eris, upon hearing that, froze—then frowned with anger.
She shoved aside the cat-girl maid who had been shielding her, rushed toward Sylphy, and yanked her up from the mud, dragging her straight toward Allen.
"I don't need healing! Give it to him! Forget about me!!"
Rudeus arrived, frustrated and panting, shouting at the noble girl.
"Listen to Allen! I know healing too—stay here!"
The three kids were all shouting at once, but—
Splash! Water burst beneath Allen's feet!
Like a cannonball, he rocketed forward, his blade slashing through smoke and mist, creating a gaping vortex in the vapor as his figure darted out.
He left behind only one sentence—
Scattered into the stormy night:
"Judging by their tactics, that was their killing blow. They don't have more backup. And if they do—it's aimed at me. But the kidnappers fear survivors. Rudeus, stay and protect them. Don't let me down!!"
Rudeus reached to grab him—but only caught air.
Allen had already vanished into a blur.
Rudeus stared dumbly at his hand for several long seconds.
Again...
I didn't catch him again...
It reminded him of that time in the snow valley—when Allen had fallen and slipped through his grasp.
——
Allen unleashed his Ryūseiki (Dragon Holy Ki) at full power, using Mukōon no Tachi to accelerate like lightning—closing the distance between him and the fleeing duo almost instantly.
The three figures charged into the forest at the side of the road.
The advanced-level rabbit-eared swordswoman clung to Nacule, screaming as she saw Allen chasing like a god of death.
"Nacule! You said we'd be fine even with me tagging along!! You liar! I should've never believed your crap in bed and come with you! And you're a Seikyū (Saint-level) even without Jad—why are we running?!"
Nacule narrowed his eyes, speaking unhurriedly.
"His strength exceeded expectations. His mastery of Kenshin Ryū is frightening. Otherwise, this attack would've been foolproof... And we couldn't tell how wounded he really was. So I figured—if he follows us, he's still battle-ready. If not, we can go back..."
He followed.
So he can still fight.
Nacule chuckled. Glancing down at the half-naked rabbit-girl in his arms, regret flickered across his eyes—then he grinned.
"Well then... Looks like it's time for you to be useful. Allen Boreas Greyrat. Since you're from the Boreas family... I didn't bring you here for no reason~"
Her red hair whipped in the wind. The rabbit-girl's expression froze as she turned to look at Nacule—
—only to be flung backward by him!
Allen lunged forward—but instinct took over when he saw the beastwoman flying at him, and he reflexively used Ryū Ōgi (Flow Secret Art) to catch her.
He turned his head—but Nacule had already vanished into the forest.
Allen raised a brow and coldly pressed his blade to the red-haired rabbit-girl's neck.
"Where's Ghislane?"
Her face turned ghostly pale. The glint of his sword reflected on the rain-soaked steel, splattering drops onto her face.
Allen showed no emotion.
"Where is she? Which direction, fake Jad?"
The 'Jad' blinked rapidly—then rolled over and crouched submissively on all fours like a beast. Her wrappings fell to the mud as she looked up at Allen, face presenting an obedient pose.
But her voice trembled.
"Th-that Ghislane... I don't know where she is. But if you want... I can—"
She blinked her round eyes, gaze fixed on the blade, and swallowed.
Then—
She extended her tongue—unique to the Miltait tribe, rabbit-like and thin—and licked up along Allen's blade through the rain.
From the tip...
To the edge...
To the hilt...
Eyes locked onto his face the entire time. Allen's expression changed—part shy, part... pained. He looked away toward the rain where Nacule had vanished.
'Jad' smiled, relieved.
In her eyes, joy and survival danced.
Then—
Her head slammed into the mud.
Still in a respectful, submissive pose—
Blood gushed from her severed neck like a fountain, vanishing into the rain.
Hope for life—
Was a delusion.
Allen turned, sword in hand, his voice mixing with the blood and rain.
"Pathetic."
"Running, Nacule? Think you can cover your trail just like that?"
"I'm a—"
"Perception-type."
The sound echoed through the raindrops.
But Allen was already gone.
In the eyes of the severed head on the ground—
A smile still lingered.
(End of Chapter)
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