17. The Blade in the Shadows
A knife plunged into Samarkand’s outstretched arm.
A volley of throwing knives followed, flying at him from almost every direction.
Samarkand recoiled, summoning a black scythe with a curved blade, deflecting the knives. But he couldn’t block them all. A dozen knives found their mark, and crimson blood flowed.
The bleeding stopped.
The edges of his black fur shimmered, fading to a pale white. His short, goat-like horns lengthened, twisting into grotesque, menacing spirals. His crescent-moon eyes glowed red, and the knives clattered to the floor. Perhaps due to some material magic, the fallen knives dissolved into particles of light.
“Filthy rat…”
Liz appeared silently before me.
She wore a revealing—or rather, defensively useless—assassin’s outfit. Dark brown leather and light brown belts, like restraints binding her form. Her usual red scarf was wrapped around her arms instead of trailing behind her. She held a fighting knife in each hand, their designs differing.
She was the very picture of the Darkling Blade, a breathtakingly beautiful assassin.
“Your hostility towards my master will be atoned for with your death.”
She spoke the words, laced with restrained hatred, in a flat, emotionless tone. She extended her right arm, the tip of her knife aimed at Samarkand’s heart.
“I will not even leave your soul intact.”
“—Wait! Liz!”
“Master… are you injured?” Without moving her knife, Liz glanced at me. Her eyes were devoid of light, the cold, calculating gaze of an assassin.
“A slight mishap. Give me four seconds. I’ll dispose of him.”
Four seconds?
To take down a greater demon?
“Then I’ll stop the bleeding immediately.” Liz’s gaze returned to Samarkand. I shouted frantically,
“Wait, wait! I’m fine, I’m not injured! That’s… that’s the demon’s blood.”
“A blood curse? …Is he trying to control you? Master, I’ll arrange for a skilled curse breaker. Just hold on a little longer.”
“That’s not it.”
“You’re already under his control…? Master, try to resist!”
“No, there’s no need to resist…”
“You can’t speak? —I’ll eliminate the caster.” Liz nodded, her form shimmering slightly—
“Samarkand. Sit.”
“Yes!” Samarkand obeyed instantly. The glow in his eyes faded, the tremors in his body ceased, and he knelt on one knee.
“…Excuse me?” Liz blinked, bewildered.
“Liz, listen to me.”
“Yes. Please explain.”
“He came to assassinate me, but he changed his mind.”
“I was captivated by my master’s noble spirit and profound capacity for forgiveness. We have formed a blood contract. My life, my very being, now belongs to her.” Samarkand added.
“…Huh?” Liz stared at me, as if to say, What are you talking about, Master?
“Wait a minute. This… this is clearly a greater demon…”
“Didn’t you say you could take him down in four seconds?”
“I can, but that’s not the point.”
So, she really could do it. My adjutant is too powerful.
“You can stand now.”
“Yes.” Samarkand rose and bowed his head respectfully. A gesture of subservience.
“…Master, could you please refrain from doing things that defy all logic…?”
“Well, I think today’s incident was unavoidable. We were just talking, and then suddenly…”
“Having a casual conversation with an assassin who came to kill you is what defies logic.”
“It wasn’t exactly casual…”
“You were remarkably calm.”
“See?”
“Samarkand. That’s probably counterproductive.”
“My apologies. I deserve to be punished.”
“That’s alright. If you’re going to be my subordinate, take care of yourself. We’ll discuss things like vacation time and salary later.”
“I require neither rest nor payment. Use me as you see fit.”
That’s a bit extreme.
“Listen… no, this is an order, Samarkand.” I spoke firmly, my words sharp.
“If you intend to use your life for me, use it wisely.”
“—Yes!”
“…Well, it seems to be true. Um, Samarkand?”
“Yes, Darkling Blade, Lizlit Finis.”
“Interrogation time. Tell us everything, from your objective to who’s behind this.”
“No torture, please.”
“That won’t be necessary. I will tell you everything I know.”
“Give him the order anyway.”
“Samarkand, be honest with us.”
“As you wish.”
“Before we start, Liz, do you mind if I take a bath?” There was still blood on my cheek, and my nightclothes were damp with cold sweat.
“Oh, right. I’ll prepare the bath and disable the traps on the way.”
Liz fixed Samarkand with a stern look.
“—Samarkand. I’m reserving judgment on you for now. I’ll decide based on your future performance. If you try anything funny, I’ll kill you.”
“Of course.”
“Then, Master, please wait while I get things ready. Regular hot water, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. I’ll tidy up the room while you’re bathing, so you can leave everything as it is.”
I followed Liz’s instructions and petted the Barghest that was still lying obediently beside me.
“Can I bring a Barghest into the bath?”
“One, at most.”
Liz left. Despite her reservations, she’d left me alone with Samarkand, so she must have deemed him relatively safe.
“My master. While you bathe, allow me to clean the blood from your cheek.”
“Oh, right.”
His large, fur-covered hand gently brushed against my cheek, removing the dried blood.
“Um, Samarkand,” I said as he stepped back.
“I look forward to working with you.”
“Yes, my master.”
The corners of his goat-like mouth curled upwards. He was smiling.
At least, I might have one less thing to worry about at night.
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