“Y-you killed them…!”
“Ngh…!”
As Lena struggled to find words, Bete growled next to her, jaw tight and teeth grinding against one another. His eyes were focused on one and only one thing: the hooded assassin, swathed in black, who was leisurely turning to face them as they pointed the bloodied black dagger at the pair.
It was then that the shadows appeared, a multitude swarming across the rooftops to either side of them.
“Wh-what’s happening? What’s going on…?”
“Get yourself a weapon!”
“Wh-what?”
“I said get yourself a goddamn weapon, you ignoramus! Or are you gonna just stand there and let them kill you?!” Bete snapped, causing Lena’s shoulders to jump. But she did as she was told, snatching up a spare scimitar that had been left behind after Freya Familia’s attack.
The swarm of enemies around them had appeared in a flash, almost as though their every move had been coordinated, and Bete’s face twisted into a snarl as he watched them form a ring.
More of those Evils bastards? The assassins who attacked Tione?!
He remembered the other Amazon talking about them after they’d escaped Knossos.
But why were they here? Why now? What did they have to gain by attacking him like this?
Even Finn and the others had always assumed the Evils would never launch an attack like this on the surface. His suspicions about the group that had appeared before him now, completely undercutting all their previous assumptions, simmered in the back of his mind like a rufescent flame.
When all of a sudden…
“Oh, of all the—! And here we were just hopin’ to do a bit of lookin’ around!”
“That voice…!” Bete growled, his tone low as he turned toward the new, decidedly feminine shadow that had just jumped down from off the roof.
That same fur-lined overcoat, that same undershirt that covered nothing but her chest, that same pair of leather pants. Yes, Bete remembered the woman standing in front of him now, waving her sinister-looking oversize sword.
Valletta Grede.
The Evils commander who’d set all those traps for them down in Knossos.
“What? You alone, Vanargand? And what’s that Amazon brat for? Don’t tell me a mutt like you is actually trying to breed?”
“Oh, go to hell, you pink-haired worm! What are you even doing here anyway?”
“I could be asking you the same thing. Running into a first-tier adventurer like you wasn’t exactly in our plans!” The anti-aging effects of Valleta’s Status made her look more like a woman in her late twenties than her actual age—somewhere in her late thirties. Her face was beautiful but severe, and at the moment, it was scowling as she gave her lips a rather disconcerting lick. “…But no bother. No, in fact, this might be just what the doctor ordered,” she added, eyes narrowing like a snake on the prowl as she eyed the two adventurers. “The city’s always so noisy this time of day anyway…”
Bete understood all too well what the roseate-haired woman was implying, a murderous aura already radiating from the giant sword in her hand. There would be no running away from this fight—that much was for sure.
Damn! And now the brat’s gonna get caught up in it, too…! he lamented silently, throwing a glance at Lena next to him. It was too late for her to run away now.
Almost as if emphasizing his reproachful thoughts, the clouds overhead seemed to tremble, first one, then two, then drop after drop of rain spilling from the haze of gray. All it took was a second more, and then the sky opened up.
Rain pelting his body, he cursed himself and his own ineptitude. “You need to get away from here, you hear?!” he shouted at Lena.
“O-okay!”
But Valletta’s voice was right behind hers, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Sic ’em, boys!”
The response was immediate; every one of the black-robed assassins readied their weapons—jet-black cursed blades—and launched themselves at the duo.
“It’s raining…” Finn murmured as he glanced out the window of his office in Twilight Manor. The storm had come on fast, and rain was now bombarding the surface of the glass while thick, heavy clouds turned the city sky an ashy gray.
…What’s this feeling? It’s as though something dreadful is about to happen.
Standing at the window and watching the rain patter the streets, he felt the most peculiar sense of foreboding wrap itself around his heart. With a start, the thumb of his right hand began to throb.
Then…
“Captain!”
Raul burst into the room. Drenched from head to toe and breathing heavily, he looked as though he’d just seen a ghost.
“What happened?”
“I-it’s terrible…” he started, lips trembling. “Down in the city, it’s…!”
“GYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”
The party that formed outside in the streets appeared as though summoned by the rain itself.
“Wh-what is it?!”
“Dead! They’re d-dead!!”
“Someone was killed?!”
Almost instantaneously, the previously empty side street was overtaken by screams and chaos. The blood painting the stone cobbles swirled together with the rainwater, forming red rivers that flowed down through the cracks.
“Move, please! Let me through!” Lefiya pushed her way through the crowd, having heard the shouts while out and about with one of her friends. When her eyes landed on the carnage, she could hardly find the words to respond.
“I-it can’t be…!”
Riveria encountered similar pandemonium upon arriving at Dian Cecht Familia’s hospital.
“Miss Amid! Over here, quickly! I need your help!”
“W-we can’t stop the bleeding!”
The panicked cries of the healers seemed to harmonize with the thundering echo of the rain. Blood coated their clothes, hands, and skin as they rushed to carry in the wounded one after another. Hearing the screams of her own familia members, Riveria bolted to Amid’s side, the healer herself stunned by the developments.
“A wound that can’t be healed…Don’t tell me!” Riveria took one look before nearly flying back out of the hospital, long silver staff in hand.
“G-guuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!”
“Th-the adventurers, they’re…they’re killing each other!”
A crazed battle was taking place to the tune of the rain in the city’s back alleys.
The sound of metal on metal, blade on blade, echoed ceaselessly off the stone along with wild, bestial cries. Metallic sparks interspersed with flying spatters of blood as they fell to the ground below.
It was a merciless, violent attack right in the middle of the day, shrouded beneath a curtain of tempestuous rain.
“Somebody get the Guild! No, get an adventurer!” came the piercing shrieks as flustered civilians scrambled away from what seemed to be a familia dispute. Even the free people of Orario were all too familiar with the overwhelming power of their adventurers. Meanwhile, the maddened shouts of Loki Familia’s members continued behind them, echoing throughout the streets.
“Ngh!”
Aiz wove her way through the crowd and splashing puddles, unsheathing the sword at her waist as she flung herself into the dance of shadows beyond.
The screams and shouts continued all throughout the city, muffled by the pouring rain. Blackened blades descended like reapers’ scythes, claiming their new blood.
Bete’s metal boots, Frosvirt, smashed through the faces of his enemies, taking them out one by one together with their cursed weapons.
“Grrraaaugh!”
The assassin who’d just come flying at him went to the ground hard, tumbling back across the cobbles. But like clockwork, another appeared in his place t
o launch another attack at Bete.
“Shit!”
They came at him in waves, a veritable sea of robed assailants.
Cursing under his breath, Bete launched kick after kick at the incoming tide of enemies.
“Bwa-ha-ha! Get him, you miserable pieces of scum! Get hiiiiim!” Valletta shouted from the nearby rooftop, looking more and more like a tourist ogling the city’s most popular attraction.
Down below, her laughter enveloped Bete’s every blow.
And around him, stifling the entirety of the restoration zone, the rain continued to pour in a perpetual deluge. The soggy haze acted like a film, separating them from the outside world, nothing but the gray sky watching over their isolated fight.
“Hiii-yah!”
“G-guuuwwwah?!”
“—GET DOWN!” Bete shouted as Lena lashed out with the broken scimitar she’d picked up off the street. Lena did as she was told, stooping down just in time to avoid Bete’s spinning kick. The incoming assassin was launched away just before his blade could reach Lena.
“Gwghhh?!”
“Th-thanks…”
“Don’t just stand there! There’s more of ’em coming!”
This was no time for words of thanks.
Even now, another swarm of black shadows was lunging toward them through the blurry haze of the rain.
“Those weapons of theirs are cursed! Do not let them hit you!” Bete growled as he stared down the approaching enemies.
“C-cursed?! O-okay! I’ll try!”
The assassins were uniform in their attire: jet-black robes topped by equally dark hoods. And they didn’t carry themselves like normal adventurers at all; their movements were surprisingly deft. In less than a second, they’d simply be gone. There was something inhuman about the perfectly emotionless eyes staring out from underneath their masks.
No matter how many of their comrades Bete and Lena took down, they seemed completely unaffected, coming at them again and again without an inkling of hesitation.
These guys aren’t Evils! They’re hired assassins!
He’d heard of them before—a familia more like a criminal association, talked about only in hushed whispers. They carried out the dirty dealings of their Goddess of Slaughter, but nobody knew where they came from or how many they numbered—an organization of cold-blooded assassins. Bringers of blood and death in the underworld, who killed in exchange for coins.
Almost as though confirming Bete’s suspicions, he caught sight of the insignia on one of the assassins’ fluttering cloaks: Sekhmet, veiled in a hood and mask of her own. The assassins themselves didn’t seem to boast high Statuses compared to a typical Orarian adventurer—Level 3s at the very most—but Bete wasn’t fighting them one-on-one, now, was he?
“Ggggh—grraaaaagh!”
Every single one of their attacks was a finishing blow, attempting to reap the very life from their opponents.
There was no uncertainty in their movements as the fresh waves of assassins attacked everything in sight with their long-bladed cursed weapons, even the bodies of their wounded comrades. Bete responded with a rush of his own, eyes flashing as his right leg lashed out, taking them down in one giant sweep. The sheer amount of friendly fire happening—and the assassins’ lack of concern toward it—grated on Bete’s first-tier-adventurer nerves.
These were an entirely different type of enemy from the Evils they’d faced in Knossos, who had at least still feared death when they were blowing themselves to smithereens. No, these men must have been brainwashed through years of sadistic training and upbringing, to the point where they didn’t even flinch at using their own lives as a weapon—a band of true cold-blooded killers.
Then…
“Waltz of blood!”
The chants came at him one after another, morphing into waves of black energy and reddened mist.
Curses and…anti-Status Magic…?! These guys are starting to get really annoying!
One after another, they layered the curses and spells meant to lower the Statuses of their opponents. And they didn’t care if these hit their comrades, either, which made them seem particularly low. In their attempt to weigh down Bete and Lena, they sent wave after wave of curses even if it meant sacrificing their own companions to do so. Annoying was an understatement.
And I’ve got my own baggage to deal with, too…!
He threw a glance behind him to where Lena was still struggling to deal with the assassins’ erratic fighting style. While the girl’s Status may very well have been higher than that of her opponents, their constant underhanded approach had her consistently coming up short.
Bete couldn’t go on the offensive so long as Lena was there. He had to be constantly on guard, ready to grab her arm and pull her out of harm’s way at a moment’s notice, especially when the assassins began shooting off those spells.
On and on the battle raged under the watch of the crumbling brothels on either side.
Between the cursed weapons coming at him from every side and the throwing knives now flying toward him, he didn’t notice the darkened shadow fluttering overhead until it was too late.
“Ugh!”
“Shit!”
One of the throwing knives grazed past Lena, drawing a small spatter of blood. The assassins didn’t miss a beat, quickly moving in on the stumbling girl, but Bete beat them to the punch and kicked the whole lot of them away.
Just how many of these guys are there? It’s like they’re never-ending!
Bete cursed, realizing that they weren’t making any progress.
“Gnngah…!”
Lena yelped.
“Unnnguugh…?!”
And again.
“Gah…!!”
And a third time.
“”
Suddenly, Bete realized what was happening.
The attackers were leaving him—and, instead, focusing on Lena.
What the hell?!
Why weren’t they attacking him, one of the upper echelons of their most-hated Loki Familia? Why else would they go to all this trouble to drag these assassins out of Knossos? Weren’t they trying to keep him from finding that key?
Then again, what was it Valletta had said earlier? That they hadn’t planned on running into any first-tier adventurers—?
Bete began focusing all his movements around Lena.
Using his body as a shield to protect the girl from any more wounds from cursed weapons, he met the incoming assassins head-on and sent them soaring one after another.
What the hell what the hell what the hell.
Why were they coming at her en masse, almost as though that had been the plan the whole time—
—Wait, don’t tell me!
Bete’s heart gave a jump as a strange possibility crossed his mind.
What if he’d been wrong about this all along?
He hadn’t gotten Lena mixed up in anything. In fact…
—Oh, for cryin’ out loud!
No, Lena hadn’t gotten mixed up in anything at all.
The only one getting pulled into things that didn’t involve him—
And the true target of those assassins was—
“He-he-he.”
Valletta’s lips curled into a grin as she watched the battle play out from her vantage point on the roof.
“He-he-he-he-he-he.”
Laughing, she watched Bete grow more and more anxious.
“He-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he!!”
But when she looked at the girl, pained and suffering, she licked her lips with a wicked grin.
Jumping back for a moment.
“Thanatos…Just what do you plan on doing with so many cursed weapons?”
Down in Knossos, and back in the long hallway with mosaics covering the walls, a man appeared. Only one eye was visible through the swath of his bangs. His hair and skin deathly pale, as though never having seen the light of the sun, he was a ghost of a man with large, dark bags underneath his sunken eyes. It was none other than Barc
a, a man driven by the desire to fulfill the legacy of his ancestor, Daedalus.
“You plan to challenge Loki Familia…?” he asked the god now standing unaccompanied in the hall, his tone incredulous. “On the surface? Are you mad? To do so would be nothing short of suicide.”
Thanatos was silent for a moment, then simply shrugged. “Those were my thoughts at first, but…it seems we may have been mistaken.”
“Mistaken…?”
“Indeed. Dear Valletta seems to have really lost her head this time—not that I wouldn’t generally say the same thing about you. Yes, she’s in quite a tizzy.”
“…”
“Even I, the God of Death, was taken aback.”
He wasn’t exaggerating, either. He’d truly been impressed. With a shake of his silky, deep-purple hair, he narrowed his similarly colored eyes, turning toward the still-silent Barca.
“You see, our dear Valletta is going hunting”—he paused with a smile, almost as though sanctioning her actions—“for Amazons.”
“Amazons are being attacked all over the city?!” Finn shouted.
“Y-yes! Even now, they’re…There are already so many bodies…!”
“…Their affiliation. Is there any connection?!”
“At least right now, they’ve all been from different familias, but…it seems like all the victims so far were originally from Ishtar Familia…! The ones closest to Lady Ishtar—the Berbera!”
At this, Finn furrowed his brow. “They must be trying to silence them to keep us from finding the key…!” he realized in a flash, as even then, the sound of clashing weapons began making its way in through the window. This had to be the work of the Evils.
Then their enemy must have given up on finding the key themselves. With no clues to go on, Loki Familia’s own investigation efforts must have had them on pins and needles, to the point where they’d decided to use brute force. Not even Finn would have thought they’d stoop to this level.
If they couldn’t get their hands on it, they were going to make goddamn sure no one else would. And that meant eliminating the one source of info that might lead anyone to it.
Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? On the Side: Sword Oratoria, Vol. 8 Page 10
