"I'm going for a walk," Regius said after finishing his plate. He stood up and adjusted his dark cloak.
"Don't get into trouble, Leader," Kael called out, raising a tankard. "And don't buy any more gifts; you'll make us look bad!"
"I'll be fine. Just stretching my legs."
"Bring us back some pastries!" Milo shouted.
"I'll see what I can find."
Regius stepped out into the cool night air. He turned away from the main street leading to the bakery shops. He headed toward the industrial district, where the lights were dim and the shadows stretched long.
He needed to draw the poison out before it could infect his squad.
He walked for ten minutes, listening to the rhythm of the footsteps behind him. They were professionals. Their steps matched the ambient noise of the city, hidden beneath the hiss of steam pipes and the distant hum of traffic.
Turning into a blind alleyway, there was a dead end filled with discarded crates and the smell of waste. He stopped, his back to the entrance.
"You're sloppy," Regius said to the empty air. "I felt your filth from three blocks away."
For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, everything happened at once.
Three shadows detached themselves from the walls. Rank 3 assassins, clad in blurring suits that bent the light around them. Manifold stronger than the Rank 2 monster Regius dealt with, they held triangular daggers coated in viscous, green liquid.
Beside the lead assassin, a black viper uncoiled from the darkness, its scales matching the pavement. A moth fluttered above the second man, its wings dusting the air with sound-dampening energy. The third assassin, perched on a crate, held a hawk on his arm, ready to chase down any escape attempt. They moved for the kill.
The first assassin, the point man, lunged. His viper struck first, a blur of fangs aimed at Regius's throat, while the man aimed a dagger at his kidneys. A lethal, synchronized strike.
Regius didn't move his feet.
He hadn't drawn his sword.
He opened the gate in his Soul Palace.
Libra.
A spike of heat flared under his glove—the Soul-Sear. Akin to needles of fire being driven into his wrist as the friction of his summon pressed against his hand. He gritted his teeth, channeling the pain into focus.
The air beside him distorted.
Space itself distorted, tearing open like a shredded hole in a piece of paper. From that fold, a blade of pure starlight emerged.
SHING.
The blade bisected the viper summon and the assassin in a single stroke.
He didn't have time to scream. His top half slid from his bottom half, hitting the pavement with a wet slap. The cauterized wound smoked in the cool air. The summon dissipated instantly, its mana bond severed by death.
Libra remained partially manifested—a ripple in the air, a ghost of gravity and balance.
Regius felt the cost on his mana reserves, a steady, thirsty pull that demanded payment for every second she remained active, for every action she took.
The second assassin skidded to a halt, his eyes widening behind his mask. He stared at the bisected corpse of his leader, his brain struggling to comprehend the invisible death that had just occurred.
That second of hesitation was his death sentence.
Regius pivoted. He drew his steel sword mid-turn, the metal humming as it sliced through the air. He used his increased density with the raw speed due to his bond to his summon, moving faster than a Rank 2 should.
Trying to raise his guard, the action was all for naught.
Regius's blade bit deep. It severed the assassin's carotid artery and half the windpipe in a single arc. A fountain of crimson spray painted the brick wall. The moth fluttered in panic before dissolving as its summoner collapsed, gurgling through the ruin of his throat.
Two down.
The third assassin, witnessing his squad decimated before he could even raise his weapon, didn't fight. He released his summon, commanding it to distract Regius, while he scrambled up a stack of crates, vaulting toward the roof.
The hawk dove, talons extended.
But Regius ignored it.
Orion.
The Soul Sear pain doubled. A wave of vertigo hit Regius as his mana reserves were draining, siphoned off to fuel two summons simultaneously.
On the rooftop, a figure emerged. Orion stood motionless against the moon. He absorbed the ambient light of the city, a void in the shape of a man. His helmet had no visor—only three glowing, star-like eyes arranged in a triangular pattern.
Orion snapped his fingers. The hawk shrieked as it was pinned down by his gravity shot, collapsing into the rooftop tiles by a sudden increase in atmospheric pressure.
He raised his bow. There was no string. An arrow of condensed gravity materialized—a distortion, a dark haze in the shape of an arrow.
Thwip.
The arrow struck the assassin's left knee.
CRUNCH.
The joint exploded. The kinetic force shattered the kneecap and pulverized the bone, folding the leg backward at a sickening angle. The assassin screamed—a raw, wet sound—before tumbling from the roof and hitting the alley floor with a bone-shattering thud.
Silence returned to the alley.
Regius released Libra. The pressure on his Marks vanished, leaving him lightheaded. He rubbed his left hand, the phantom heat of the Mark slowly fading.
He walked past the dissipating ripple of Libra and the gurgling man on the ground, stopping over the crippled survivor.
He looked down, his violet eyes glowing with a faint, predatory intensity in the dark.
"Orion, scan him."
The Hunter Knight leaped down from the roof. He landed without a sound. He knelt beside the broken man and placed a gloved hand on the assassin's forehead.
A pulse of mental pressure drilled into the man's mind.
...Nothing... a deal with a broker... blind drop... gold in a locker... Orion's voice echoed in Regius's thoughts. Cutouts. Disposable. No name.
Regius frowned. Tch. As usual, still nothing.
He nodded to Orion. A gravity projectile shot toward the assassin's head, crushing it into paste.
"Dismissed," Regius whispered.
The pressure in the alley lifted. Orion melted back into the shadows. The ripple in the air smoothed out as Libra returned to the Soul Palace.
Regius stood alone among the bodies.
He took a deep breath, pushing the cold influence of Regulus back down, forcing the warmth mask back onto his face. He had bought his squad another day of safety, but the enemy remained faceless.
He turned and walked back toward the main street.
He still had to buy pastries.