Wolves of Hader

The five heads of house couldn't bring themselves to leave their seats.

They simply couldn't walk away like this.

"I have information on everyone who visited that resort island. Most noble houses close to the order indulged in debauchery there in that lawless land."

"What are you planning to do?"

"You just have to leave as things are and never interfere in our affairs again. If you leave, Viscount Landan will also drop this matter. There won't be any disciplinary action."

"On what grounds?"

"Viscount Landan was planning to make this whole thing disappear anyway. He must have known that everything would fall apart once you left."

"Are you saying Viscount Landan knew?"

This was characteristic of those who submit to power.

They never have to use their heads.

So, they have no opinions of their own.

"I have the secret information of the nobles; wouldn't Viscount Landan at least have guessed as much? Even if that wasn't the reason, the negotiations were doomed to fail anyway. For the sake of the order, you've done all that could be expected of you."

"Then, are you implying this is the Grand Duke's will?"

"Why not ask him directly?"

I closed the booklet.

"As I've said, I know the deeds of almost every noble, including yourselves, on the resort island. Go back to the capital today and tell them this."

Several heads of house swallowed dryly.

"Any house that raises a sword against us will be exterminated. Should anyone interfere with us, the filthy deeds you committed will be revealed to every citizen of the capital."

"Do you really think such rumors will work?"

"Whether you believe it is up to you. But His Imperial Majesty will take it seriously. If the rumors are found to be true, he will question the moral legitimacy of your noble titles."

"Damn..."

The faces of the heads of house grew even more tense.

"So, you should stop threatening the admiral and Count Mals' titles and start worrying about your own. And one more thing."

I stared at the line of heads of house.

"Don't be mistaken. You should be afraid of me—not the Grand Duke."

"Are you going to kill us, then?"

"So what if I inflict some disadvantage on you for ignoring my warning? Have I ever done such a thing?"

The heads of house could say no more.

Pathetic lot.

"My warning concerns your very lives. I am not threatening you with some petty disadvantage."

It was Count Parde who stepped forward.

"Gentlemen. The world is changing. You're just the last to know. So, accept it."

"Count Parde. You'd better be prepared."

The heads of house glared at myself and Count Parde, then hurriedly left.

Count Parde watched their backs with a bitter face and spoke up.

"By any chance, did my son visit that island too?"

"There was nothing about him in the files."

"That is a real relief."

"Your house's finances must not be doing well."

"The territory is a desert, so there's no helping it."

"By 'be prepared', they're talking about water, right?"

"That's right. The merchant guild supplying us with water is closely tied to those houses. The lord of the west, where your house used to be, is the real owner of that guild."

It is the Grand Duke's sister-in-law's house—the wife of the Royal Guard commander—who is lord of the western territory where we once resided.

There is a very large lake in the west, so water is comparatively plentiful.

"We can solve your water problem."

"How?"

The count looked delighted.

He had always suffered because of water.

"There's a huge underground water source in the western mountains. We can pipe the water from there all the way to your territory."

"How do you know that?"

"In the tributaries of major mountain ranges, underground water comes out wherever you dig. The only problem is you can't dig deep enough."

"You mean, you can dig deeper?"

"We have a drilling machine. We drive the pipe underground and draw the water up. Want to come and see how it's done?"

"Is there a project underway?"

"In the south of Urada territory, the ground is drying up, so pipe construction has begun. Drilling will start soon."

"That is truly welcome news."

"Then let's go together. I'll send letters to Merchant leader Barako, the admiral, and Count Mals to let them know what's happened."

"Thank you."

Count Parde's face was bright with joy.

Not only did it seem the matter would be resolved, but the water shortage, too, looked set to end. The five heads of house could do nothing more.

With Count Parde, I headed to Urada territory.

We didn't plan to enter the capital, just to view the lake where the pipe work had started, then return.

Someone was watching our movements.

So I deliberately made it obvious that I wasn't in Tris. They would think we'd gone all the way to Urada's capital.

* * *

A pitch-black new form hid in the darkness.

One who had become one with the shadows. No assassin in this world could hide more perfectly.

Hoo-ooh— Hooo-ooh—

The sound of owls echoed through the mountain.

The sound of insects and grass blades brushing against each other.

And as the darkness grew deeper.

A man emerged silently from within the shadows.

There wasn't even a sound as he stepped on the grass or his clothes brushed against anything.

Even the sword on his back was black.

This shadow-like man pressed himself against the wall of a two-story mansion.

He moved only when thick clouds covered both moons. Not a sound was made.

Rustle.

Just as the man was about to scale the wall, he froze.

A faint noise was heard from the darkness beyond.

The man melted into the shadows like smoke once more.

When he became one with absolute darkness, a little while later, another person dressed much like him slowly passed by.

This person, too, was one with the shadows but failed to conceal his sounds perfectly.

Nor did he notice the man flattened against the wall within the darkness.

Clad in black, the figure slipped through the alley between the wall and the mansion and vanished beside the building.

Only after quite some time did the shadow man move again.

He silently drove a thin, black object into the wall and started climbing by stepping on it.

It was an alloy spike hammered into the mortar between the bricks.

He scaled the wall rapidly, hammering in spike after spike.

The black spikes he stood on never bent, the bricks above and below each acting as supports.

This shadowy man used a technique to reduce his body weight to the extreme and soon was atop the mansion roof.

Then, staying low, he crept along.

'Three? No, four?'

That was the number in the second-floor rooms and lounge.

Two faint nasal breaths. The muffled sound of teacups.

And snoring.

There were five more around the mansion.

Two by the main gate.

Two at the mansion entrance.

One patrol who had just passed by.

These five, too, were hidden in the darkness.

All highly trained assassins.

The man judged there must be ten or so more in the other rooms on both floors.

He waited patiently on the roof.

He couldn't stay long. Once the moon shifted, his shadow would fall on the garden.

Shuffle. Shuffle.

Slow footsteps. The thud of a teacup being set down. More walking, then a chair creaking as someone sat.

The one drinking tea was the assassins' superior.

The two who had exhaled through their noses stood guard outside the target's room. Several more stood in the corridor.

The man, keeping utterly silent, started securing a thin rope to the roof.

The operation was allowed to fail. The target wouldn't fall so easily, anyway.

The man's name was Bran.

He was the youngest of the Hader house's intelligence squad and its most skilled operator.

The swordsmanship and techniques he possessed were unheard of by other assassins, and his equipment was unlike anything anyone had seen before.

His target: Viscount Landan.

He had located the hideout in just seven days.

Though another member found the place, it was Bran executing the mission.

Through his accompanying elemental, Bran sensed the interior of the building again.

The internal layout was transmitted to him through pure sensation—as the elemental saw and felt it.

This was a skill unique to Hader intelligence squad.

Erasing sounds, hearing with super-senses—both were techniques developed through elementals.

So was the method that created a gravity distortion to drastically reduce one's body weight.

Bran, after securing the thin rope,

Descended slowly toward the southern window. Then, just above the window, he flipped his body to peer inside.

The target was asleep inside.

Bran quietly pressed on the window.

Creeeak.

The window wasn't locked.

But there was a nearly invisible thread strung across the outside of the window.

It led to the next room.

The Landan house is a house of assassins.

He had expected at least this level of measure.

Bran carefully stepped his left foot over the thread.

Then, bending his upper body, slid inside the window and swung his other leg over the thread as well.

It was a near acrobatic maneuver.

Then he slowly descended from the window frame to the floor. No further traps were visible in the room.

Even when sensing through the elemental, he could find no thread or anything similar.

Nothing on the floorboards, no hidden mechanisms in the walls.

No notable decorations either. Only a curved dagger rested on a table beside the bed.

A man lay on the bed across the room.

It was indeed Viscount Landan.

Bran slowly drew the sword from his back.

Sssssss—

A sword that exuded a murderous aura even in darkness.

Bran approached with sword in hand.

One step. Then another.

Another step. And another.

Just then.

Thud.

Bran stopped dead.

Sweat beaded on his nose.

He had stepped on something in the floor. Part of the floorboards sagged slightly.

There was a spring underneath.

As soon as he lifted his foot, he would be discovered.

Something was certain to pop up.

A device both hard to detect and hard to disarm.

Retreat now?

Or take a shot at it?

The fore and side walls held no hidden devices. There were no holes anywhere.

If so!

Bran hurled himself at the viscount.

Twang—

With a noisy sound, something sprang up.

Simultaneously, Bran plunged his sword at Viscount Landan's chest.

But just before it struck, Viscount Landan rolled away.

Thunk.

Bran's sword buried itself in the bed.

Meanwhile, Viscount Landan snatched his dagger and rolled forward again.

Bran too kicked off the bed and slashed at Viscount Landan. The speed was truly like lightning, but Viscount Landan was also very quick.

Clang.

Viscount Landan frantically parried the sword aiming for his heart and retreated hastily toward the window.

"Impressive skills!"

Srring!

Bran drew his other sword and pounced on Viscount Landan.

In a single leap he surged forward, slicing vertically and horizontally in a deadly crosscut.

Clang, claaang—

Viscount Landan barely blocked Bran's assault with his wrist guard and dagger.

It was that hard to avoid, given the approach speed and trajectories of the twin blades.

Then, it happened.

Bang—

The door was smashed open as assassins stormed in.

As soon as the door swung open, two rushed Bran with twin swords as well!

At the same time, Bran sank and spun as if collapsing.

His body defied the laws of physics, moving at an impossible angle and his swords curved unpredictably!

Sick—slash!

Two assassins who charged him both tumbled forward, cut in their groins.

Even before he could regain balance, another came at him.

Bran moved swiftly, looking for Viscount Landan.

The viscount had already dove for the door, sliding away—right between the legs of his subordinate.

The assassination had failed.

But another objective had been achieved!

Clang, clang—

Bran easily knocked aside the twin swords of the assassin charging him, then immediately stretched for the window.

He grabbed the sill and flew out through the window.

As he fell, his body bounced up on the rebound—a thin rope had snared him, and he landed lightly on the ground.

He had hooked a small ring as he vaulted out the window.

The ring had been attached to a thin rope wound around his sleeve.

There was no time to catch his breath.

No sooner had he landed than five assassins in the garden all rushed at him.

All at once, ten assassin swords flashed in from every direction—above, below, left, right.

It was an impressive coordinated assault, but Bran's evasion was even more impressive.

Clang clang clang—

He swept aside four assassin swords aimed at his front, escaping through the gap as two assassins sagged to that side.

His lord and mentor had said it:

There is no sword technique you can't evade.

It's only the first time you face it that you get caught.

As soon as he broke free of the encirclement, he sprinted for the wall.

At that moment, an assassin hidden in the dark lunged at him from the left with a sword.

Bran twisted, almost falling, to avoid the strike—then slashed the airborne assassin's abdomen.

But he was wounded in the upper body as well.

He rolled once across the ground and leaped over the wall without hesitation.

Thud.

Bran hid as soon as he cleared the wall.

Instantly, the five assassins vaulted over after him.

At that very moment.

Bam bam bam bam bam—

Swords pierced all five as they fell forward in a heap. Bran's allies were waiting outside the wall.

Among them was his lord and mentor, Roger Hader.

"Bran, get your wounds treated first."

Roger Hader and the intelligence squad members leaped the mansion wall.

Bran, together with the remaining squad, quickly melted back into the darkness.

Viscount Landan had surely escaped already.

But they had another objective.