Lord of Disease (JP-GL) 392

392: EX4. A Distant Twilight

—I hope my next master is more sensible.

That was my—Lizlit Finis’s—honest feeling.

At night, in a river that flowed through a forest, I was walking silently, with the utmost care not to make a sound, the water up to my chest, and the gash on my back was stinging.

I had stopped the bleeding with a cloth I had torn from the edge of my hooded cloak, but the water had seeped in, and the wound had opened again.

Since I was being pursued, I was only using a physical enhancement spell that did not emit a magical signature, and a mental adjustment spell, [Optimization]. I suppressed my presence with pure skill, ignored the pain with the help of magic, and continued to walk silently.

My mind, in contrast, was overflowing with complaints. I convinced myself that anger and dissatisfaction were effective for staying conscious, and I continued to grumble in my heart.

What did they think an assassin was? A convenient tool? —A disposable one?

No hero-class? It was a mistake to say that there were only hero-class around the target. To have fought five of them and to have survived… I wanted to praise myself.

The job itself was correct. But it was a job that should have gone to a higher-ranking assassin. It was a job of a Royal Guard-class difficulty.

I remembered. From the very beginning, I had been anxious. No, I had been nothing but anxious. Because there was no such thing as an ‘easy job.’

“—It’s an easy job.”

“Yes.”

In a room in Fort Litalside, I was facing my superior, one-on-one. I, who was still young, was in the Litalside garrison, as a low-ranking assassin of the Dark Knights.

The chain of command was in a state of chaos. The authority of the Dark Knights was strong in Fort Litalside. —But thirty percent of the garrison were beastmen, and twenty percent were undead. There were also demons. And in an emergency, more armies would gather.

To defend this land—their feelings were the same, but they each had their own way of fighting, their own domain. There were factions within the Dark Knights, and to make matters worse, the commander of the Dark Knights, who was the supreme commander of Litalside, and the leader of the beastmen were both in poor health.

—Those who thought they could seize that position, if they achieved a great feat, had a glint in their eyes.

The ‘superior’ before me was one of them.

An assassin had no ambition. It was not needed. Just a blade. Just a tool. To do what was necessary.

“You know the Garnalk region, do you not?”

“I do.”

Was there anyone in Litalside who did not?

Garnalk. The name of the last region the demons had lost. The territory of the current Rank Kingdom, adjacent to Litalside.

To retake it was a long-cherished wish for the demons, and at the same time, when you considered the national defense strategy at the current border, there was no merit in possessing it, and many demerits.

Considering the difference in their forces, if you took a long-term view, then the only defensive measure was to hole up in Fort Litalside. No… in a long-term view, that was advantageous to the humans.

But where should they attack? If they were to divert their forces to an attack, then the defense of this place would be neglected. And—if this fortress were to be taken, then the difference in their forces would slowly widen, and they would eventually be cornered to the northern edge of the continent, beyond the end of the Dark Forest, to the sandy beach.

“The local lord of the Garnalk region of Rank Kingdom has begun to harbor ambitions. Therefore, nip it in the bud.”

“A question. Should we not intercept them at Fort Litalside?”

“I said, nip it in the bud. It will be too late, after the enemy army has invaded in full force.”

He had a point. At the moment of decision, to take the ‘head’ with the minimum of effort. That was indeed the best way to use an assassin… and a simple and straightforward way.

“Yes. Please tell me the members.”

“You are alone.”

I didn’t change my expression—I think. Probably.

I had been trained to act alone. The more people, the higher the risk of being discovered during an infiltration. It was better not to have a clumsy ally. But at the same time, I had also been taught to work in a team, if necessary. With backup in enemy territory, the quality of your sleep would be on a different level. With support during an infiltration, the risk of being discovered would be lower. And the risk of a forced assassination would also be reduced.

“…Even if he is a local lord, he is planning an invasion that could be a threat. Is there not a suitable security network in place?”

“Probably. Break through it. This is an order.”

At the ‘order,’ which had been given so lightly, I resisted, to the best of my ability, within the scope of my authority.

“Even if it is an order, there is a possibility that I will not be able to fulfill it.”

“It is your job to fulfill it. You have no right to refuse. If you understand, then go.”

“…Understood.” I could only nod.

An army was, in the end, that kind of an organization. An organization where a superior told his subordinates to die. And above all, an assassin had to obey orders. An assassin going rogue was something that absolutely could not happen.

“What, rest assured. There is not a single hero-class. It is an easy job.”

Whether that was a lie, or his true feelings, I had no choice but to nod.

…The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Though I was able to keep from exploding, thanks to the mental adjustment magic.

I wanted to say, Then you go.

My friends had tried to stop me, saying, “It’s dangerous,” when I had said I would volunteer for the Demon King’s army. Dangerous… or rather. They should have probably said, “You’ll die.”

But. If you didn’t fight, you would die eventually. Even if you didn’t fight, someday, we would be destroyed. The time would surely come when we had to bet on a slim chance. While I thought that if we acted now, we might have a chance, when I thought of the vast territory of the humans, and the powerful forces that were backed by it—I couldn’t just poke a hornet’s nest.

At that time, we assassins would surely be ordered to take the heads of the enemy leaders. Even if he was just a local lord with ambitions, even against him, this was the result.

We were tools, for shedding blood. But the one who was shedding blood now was me. Too much blood had been shed. My body temperature was at its limit. I couldn’t stay in the cold autumn water any longer. Hoping that I had gained enough distance for the hounds to not be able to track my scent, I crawled out of the stream.

This was still Garnalk. I had to go. To Litalside. To the wall that our ancestors had built. I had to go. Even if it was a journey that I could not walk, with my injuries. If I stopped in human territory, I would die.

But I couldn’t walk anymore. I dragged myself and, protecting the wound on my back with a tree, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. I squeezed out all the mana I had left and evaporated the water that had soaked into my clothes.

As a charm, I gripped my dagger. So that I could draw it at any moment, but since the sleep that was about to come would probably be a deep one, unbecoming of an assassin, it was, to put it bluntly, a comfort.

And yet, I had to sleep. I hoped I would wake up. I hoped I would be alive.

—I hope my next master is more sensible.

An operation that was planned with the risks and the returns in mind. One who would not give an unofficial and unreasonable ‘order.’ One who would not use an assassin as a disposable tool.

A sensible master like that would be nice.

I, in my hazy consciousness, continued to think—to fantasize.

I wonder if there was someone, somewhere. Someone who would not see me as a tool. And yet, someone who would acknowledge me as an assassin. Someone whose orders I would gladly risk my life for.

A ‘sensible master’ I had never seen—and I, who had dreamed of an ‘ideal master,’ smiled, a twisted smile.

There was probably no one like that in this world.