Chapter 231: Assassination (Part 2)
The chill spread through Faceless like water finding every crack.
How is this possible?
She swallowed, lowered her voice. “What kind of joke is this? I’m Vorte.”
It shouldn’t be possible. There were so many mercenaries in the camp—the woman couldn’t know all of them by name. She couldn’t.
But the answer she received was not the one she expected.
“Is that so?” The voice came from directly behind her, unhurried and precise. “I never knew men could gather magic in their bodies. So you are either a witch who planned to infiltrate this camp, or you are the most extraordinary wizard in history. Either way, you are not Vorte. There is no one in the First Army with a body like yours.”
She can see the Devil’s power. Aphra’s heart sank to a place beneath her ribs she hadn’t known existed. She understood now how she had been found. There were more witches here than the four near the fire—and the woman behind her possessed something like the Eye of Truth. The Church’s scriptures catalogued hundreds of such derivations; none of them conflicted with the witch’s nature.
She hasn’t come close, hasn’t appeared in my line of sight. Her primary ability must be concealment.
“Kneel down,” the woman said, clear and cold as a bell. “Hands behind your back. Do as I say and I may spare your life.”
The mercenaries nearby were still fighting, blind to the scene unfolding in their midst. But the four witches at the fire had noticed. They turned, asking: “What’s the matter, Nightingale? Did something happen?”
Her last chance. Aphra knew it.
Her strength was assassination, not open battle—and she had no God’s Punishment Stones to suppress the witches’ abilities. The one who could fly might escape regardless; that was acceptable. But the witch who could cure the demonic plague had to die here. Whatever the cost.
There was also the possibility she herself would not escape.
The tight feeling in her chest came and went quickly. She recalled the Church’s purpose: to unify the Four Kingdoms, to resist the Devils, to bind the world against what was coming. Many good soldiers had already given themselves to that purpose. To join them would be no shame. And Heather would not forget her. Heather would see her name recorded in the sacred scriptures.
“You mustn’t—” Nightingale began.
At that split second, Aphra drove her elbow back into the woman’s arm and bowed her head, slipping the line of whatever weapon she carried. When the enemy speaks, their attention divides. Her drillmaster had said it a thousand times: the optimal moment to act is when the other side is talking.
The mechanism in her sleeve fired at first contact. A white alchemic powder sprayed backward—on contact with moisture it released tremendous heat. If any reached the woman’s mouth or eyes, she would lose her fighting strength at once. Even if she were lucky enough to avoid inhaling it, she would be flustered long enough.
Aphra was already moving. She lunged toward the four witches at the fire. The golden-haired one shot upward into the air; the eldest stepped forward without regard for her own safety, placing herself between Aphra and the other two. Aphra drew her dagger and drove it toward the woman’s body. There was no time to prioritize—all three would die by her hand anyway; the order didn’t matter.
The moment the blade pierced the other woman’s body, Aphra saw something she did not believe.
A white shadow stood before her in a place that had been empty a heartbeat ago. Two blazing eyes under a hood. Nightingale—somehow Nightingale, though she had been at close range when the powder fired, though she should have been choking and blind.
She watched the silver weapon rise.
The shot hit her in the chest like a fist made of stone. Her balance left her. She fell backward onto the ground looking up at the grey sky, and understood with a clarity that was almost peaceful that she had two more people to kill, and her hand would not lift to do it, and her thoughts were becoming slow.
What a pity, she thought—
—and the thought dissolved.
After the shot, Nightingale stood motionless.
She watched the soldier who had been struck in the chest fall. Watched the body begin to twist and contract, slowly reassembling itself into the form of a woman she had never seen—blue hair pooling across the ground, face still, expression untroubled.
This had been her first time killing another witch.
Lily’s voice called her name twice before she came back to herself.
She put the gun away and walked to Wendy’s side, pressing down whatever was rising in her chest.
“Where is the injury?”
“Nothing serious. A little pain.” Wendy waved a hand. “She shouldn’t have been able to pierce through.”
“The vest worked?”
“It appears so.” Wendy undid the buttons at her chest. The dagger was visible, lodged in the outer layer, its tip clean of blood. When the jacket fell open the knife tumbled free, clattering against the ground. The outer layer showed a small hole; the soft inner layer remained intact.
“You—you scared me half to death.” Lily exhaled a long breath and then simply sat down on the ground, as though her legs had made a decision without her. “Next time don’t step in front of a sword for me. I don’t need—I don’t—”
“Am I not alright?” Wendy gently stroked her head.
Lily pulled free of the hand and buried her face in Wendy’s chest instead, making a muffled sound against her coat.
“I was frightened too,” Wendy admitted. “I just stepped forward—I forgot entirely to use my ability. If I had sent a gust of wind at her, she wouldn’t have reached me at all.”
“You’re not used to fighting,” Nightingale said. “A reaction like that is normal.”
“Thank the gods for the vest.” Echo still looked shaken. “Without it, this would have been far worse.”
Before their departure, Roland had given each of them one. He’d insisted they wear it at all times, no exceptions—though he’d seemed almost embarrassed asking, saying only that it was a little thick but should be light enough. Many layers, Soraya-coated, flexible and impervious to sharp objects. It guarded against swords, bows, crossbows. Without it, Wendy would not have reached Nana.
Lightning descended slowly to land beside the dead woman. She stood looking down at her for a moment.
“Why did she attack us?” Her voice was quiet. “Aren’t we… the same?”
Nightingale stared at the still face—the blue hair scattered across the ground, the closed eyes, the expression that held no evidence of pain. She couldn’t forget the woman’s eyes in that final moment, though. The blade moving toward Wendy without a trace of hesitation. Not cruelty—something cleaner and more terrible than cruelty. Certainty. As though she was not killing a person but completing something that had always been true.
Perhaps, in her heart, it had been.
“No,” Nightingale said softly. “She wasn’t one of us.” She paused. “She was just… a lamentable person.”
Chapter 231 Assassination (Part 2)
A chill spread over Faceless’ body. This… how was this possible?
She swallowed the saliva, then lowered her voice, “What kind of joke is this? I’m Vorte.”
It shouldn’t be possible that they are lucky enough to know each other, there are so many mercenaries within the camp. Don’t tell me, that she can remember every one of their names, how can that be??
She never expected to receive the sarcastic answer she got in response, “Is that so? I never knew men could also gather magic in their bodies. So, either you are a witch that had planned to infiltrate the camp, or you are an extremely unlikely wizard. No matter what the truth is, it is impossible that your name is “Vorte” as you have claimed. Within the soldiers of the First Army, there is definitely no one with such a different body type.”
Can this person… see the Devil’s power? Aphra’s heart finally sank to the depths; she now knew how she had been found out. There were more than four witches in the camp, and the woman behind her must be a witch as well. Moreover, she had an ability that was similar to the Eye of Truth. The Church’s scriptures about magic had records of such an ability which had several hundred of derivations and all of them were not in conflict with the witch’s ability.
Since I haven’t seen someone within my surroundings or getting close… does it mean that the other side’s prime ability is hide her body?
“Now, kneel down, and put your hands behind your back, maybe I can spare your life then,” the woman shouted with a clear voice, “Do as I say!”
The mercenaries in the surrounding were still occupied with fighting, so they didn’t notice the scene playing out at the central area, but that wasn’t the case
for the four witches near the fire though. They became aware of the abnormal situation as they cast their eyes over and asked, “What’s the matter, Nightingale? Did something happen?”
This was her last chance, Aphra knew that her own strength was assassination and not related to an open battle, especially in the case where she wasn’t wearing a God’s Punishment Stones which would have suppressed most witches’ fantastic abilities.
In case the witch who can fly is able to run away it won’t do any harm. However, the witch who can cure the demonic plague definitely has to die here. Otherwise, she will pose a serious threat to the Church’s future plans.
Of course, there was also the possibility, that after killing the other side, she herself wouldn’t be able to escape. Thinking of this possibility, she couldn’t help herself from getting a tight feeling in her chest, but she soon calmed down again. Recalling that in order for the Church’s goal to unify the Four Kingdoms, no effort should be spared to resist the Devils from hell. And there were already many good soldiers who had sacrificed themselves for the greater good, and it would be a proud moment for her to join them.
Furthermore, she believed that Heather would not forget her, Heather would make sure that her name would also be recorded in the sacred scriptures.
“You mustn’t come over,” shouted the witch called Nightingale. “There is—”
At this split second, she suddenly raised her elbow to beat against her enemy’s arm, simultaneously bowing her head to avoid being stabbed with her weapon. “When you are talking, it is impossible to always pay attention. Thus there is the saying of ‘holding one’s breath in concentration’,” was what her drillmaster repeatedly taught her. “Instead, regardless whether you are attacking or are trying to escape, the optimum moment to act is when the other side starts talking.”
Within her sleeve she had concealed a mechanism that activated at the first moment of contact. Spraying a white alchemic powder to the rear, which on contact with water would release a lot of heat. In case the enemy got any of it inside their mouth or eyes, they would immediately lose their fighting
strength. Even if they were lucky enough not to breathe any of the fine powder in, they would at least be flustered for a while.
Afterward, Aphra immediately pounced towards the four witches at the fire, the witch with golden hair quickly flew up, while the one witch who seemed to be the oldest disregarded her own safety and stepped in front of the other two. Drawing out her sharp dagger, Aphra immediately stabbed directly toward the first witch. Since they couldn’t escape anyway, and all three of them would die under her hand, it wasn’t necessary to differentiate them according to priority.
Just at the moment when her dagger pierced the other side’s body, Aphra saw an incredible scene.
A white shadow appeared in front of her at a place which was definitely still empty a second ago, with two blazing eyes glaring at her from under its hood.
Is… this Nightingale who stood behind me?
At the eruption of the fine powder she was at close range, so why doesn’t she seem to have been affected? Almost disbelieving her eyes, Faceless saw the other side lift her arm and a flame burst out from the silver weapon. And then her body was firmly pushed backward, resulting in her losing her balance, sending her backward to the ground, looking upwards. That’s not good; there are… still two important people I need to dispose of. Aphra wanted to stand up, wanted to draw her dagger and stab at the next witch, but right now, even raising her hand had already become tough, and her consciousness had already began to blur.
What a pity… was the last thought flashing through her mind.
…
After letting off the shot, Nightingale remained at the same place, watching the soldier who had been hit in the chest fall down. Then the body began to twist and shrink, slowly turning back into the appearance of an unknown woman.
This had been her first time killing another witch.
It was not until Lily anxiously called out to her that Nightingale came back to herself.
Suppressing the surging emotion within her heart, she put away the gun, ran back to Wendy’s side.
“Where is the injury?”
“It’s nothing, I just feel a little pain,” Wendy waved his hand, indicating that they should not panic, “She shouldn’t have been able to pierce through.”
“Does that mean the protective suit worked?”
“I suppose it has,” Undoing the bottoms on her chest, she saw the slender dagger hanging on the side of her clothes, the moment the jacket was opened, the knife fell out of the hole and landed on the ground, with no blood held on its tip. Of the protective clothing, only the outer layer had a small hole in it, while the soft inner layer still remained intact.
“Y-you really scared me,” Lily said, releasing a long breath, and then fell with buttocks on the ground. “Next time don’t rush to me to help me resist the sword! I don’t need you to do this for m-m-me…”
“Well,” Wendy gently stroked her head, “Am I not alright?”
Lily pulled her head free and buried it in Wendy’s bosom, releasing a muffled cry.
“I was also scared, merely attending to obstruct her by stepping ahead, totally forgetting to use my power” Wendy shook her head. “If I had sent a strong gust of wind against her, she wouldn’t have been able to thrust towards me.”
“It’s because you are rarely fighting with others, so a reaction like that is quite normal,” Nightingale comforted.
“Fortunately you were wearing the protective clothing,” Echo said, still showing a scared look, “Otherwise, this time would have been much more dangerous than it was.”
Before their departure, His Royal Highness had given each of them a special vest, furthermore, he had demanded that they must never take this piece of clothing off at any time. Even though it seemed a little thick, it was still very light to wear. Seemingly made out of many layers, His Highness had explained that each layer had been coated by Soraya, giving it a high degree of flexibility, but also making it hard to pierce through with sharp objects. It offered excellent protection against swords, bows, and crossbows. If it hadn’t helped her to resist the thrust, Wendy would most probably never have survived long enough to reach Nana.
Lightning slowly landed next to the dead witch and asked, “Why did she attack us? Aren’t we… the same?”
Nightingale stared at the lifeless woman, unable to speak for a long time. With the witch’s eyes closed, the long blue hair scattered on the ground and her peaceful expression, the other doesn’t seem to have experienced much pain. But she still couldn’t forget, that when she had stabbed at Wendy, she hadn’t shown any trace of hesitation in her eyes, only the determination that what she was doing was inevitable and righteous. As if she was not killing a person, but rather fulfilling her life’s philosophy. Perhaps in her heart, this had been the right behavior.
“No,” Nightingale softly sighed. “She’s wasn’t one of us… she was just, a lamentable person.”