Episode 24 - Behemoth Raid 1

At the center of the clearing, a bonfire burned.

Across from it sat a man — every inch of him concealed in black mask and black clothing save for his eyes. Veilslayer, without a doubt, waiting for him.

"Well. You look perfectly at ease."
"...You came."

Kaftin, equally unhurried, dropped down across from him and looked into the fire.

"So — where are the rest of your people?"
"Now, what do you think?"
"...Heh. Already have me surrounded, do you."
"......"

Veilslayer's eyes twitched — just barely — at how casually Kaftin had landed on the answer.

He shouldn't have been able to sense a thing.
And yet he had seen through the encirclement regardless. That clarity of perception grated.

A man with a body like that, and the mind to match — it was completely unfair.

"You're a difficult man to deal with. Truly."
"Heheh..."
"But I'll give you credit for coming."

Veilslayer stirred the bonfire with a branch, feeding the flames higher.

"I couldn't very well not come. This is the perfect chance to get my hands on you."
"...You'll be dead before that happens."
"Heheh..."
"Why are you laughing? I'm not joking. What I've prepared to kill you today — it's my absolute last resort. Something I never wanted to use on anyone."
"Is that so... an assassin sending a formal challenge, coming out in the open — and not alone, but in force, all to kill one man. Quite the unusual story."

Veilslayer shook his head.

"One man? You? What a shame. I don't see it that way at all."
"......?"
"I've been preparing as though you were a polymorphed dragon."
"......!"

At that, Kaftin suddenly doubled over and burst out laughing.

"Pfft — bwahahahaha! Ahaha — hahahaha...!"
"What's so funny?"
"Ah... I just never expected to hear something like that so soon."
"...So you are a dragon. Which kind — Black? Green?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm a perfectly ordinary human."

Veilslayer went quiet.
Was he serious?
With that body, and that mind — and he says something like that without batting an eye....

"You expect me to believe that."
"Believe it or don't. If you really want to know, I'll tell you one thing before we start."
"......?"
"Rejoice. I'm not immortal."
"......!"
"Kill me and I die. Just a human."

Kaftin declared it with complete confidence.
The next instant, Veilslayer was already moving — he swept the branch upward and hurled the burning logs straight at Kaftin.

"Now we'll find out for certain...!"
"Why does no one ever just believe me!"

Kaftin knocked the burning wood aside and stepped back into a stance.

"I'm asking whether you think I could possibly believe a word of that!"
"Come on... I told you, perfectly ordinary human."

Veilslayer shook his head.
He had no intention of dragging this conversation out any longer.
His people were already in position.

"...Let's begin."
"Hm — that's a surprise. I thought you'd at least stall until it got darker."
"You don't know much, do you."
"......?"
"The world is darkest... not at midnight, but when dusk and dawn fall...!"

With that confident declaration, his silhouette began to dissolve before Kaftin's eyes.
No — his presence vanished entirely. His scent. Every trace of him, gone.
Kaftin's eyes sharpened and swept the clearing.

The clearing stretched roughly twenty meters across.
Apart from the bonfire at its center, it was almost completely flat and open.
And in these conditions, he had simply disappeared? Without a single sound?

"...Tch. So this is what it means to be an assassin...!"

Kaftin's instincts were screaming.
By now the area would be ringed with Veilslayer's people — that much was obvious. Any careless movement and they would come from every direction at once.

But standing still was no better. They would strike eventually regardless.

"Fine. Let's see what you've got ready."

He grinned and walked, deliberately, in the direction where Veilslayer had been sitting.

Precisely on the third step —

"Ngh—!"

Something razor-sharp raked across his shin.

He shot a hand out to grab it — but a dark shape, nearly impossible to see, blurred past at tremendous speed and melted back into the treeline before he could close his fingers.

"...Hm...? What are you—"

Before he could finish, slashing attacks came at him from all four directions in rapid succession — staggered, overlapping.

They weren't trying to face him. They were simply grazing past, light cuts just deep enough to draw blood, and gone.

"Ngh—!"
"......!"

Every time he reached out to catch one, all he saw was a faint smear of movement vanishing back into the trees.

In under ten seconds, fourteen long cuts had opened across Kaftin's body, blood beginning to flow freely.

"...I see... so this is what you prepared...!"

They knew — had felt it in their bones — that there was no conventional way to kill Kaftin.

So instead of a conventional assassination, they had chosen this: wound him collectively, accumulate the damage, bleed him dry.

"Heheh... bwahahaha! Now that's dedication! Veilslayer — I thought you might have figured it out!"
"......?!"
"My skeleton — certainly, without an Aura Blade, there's no cutting through that metal frame. But does that mean the flesh on top is weak...?"

He slowly raised his arm, lifting the long cut on his forearm into the firelight.

"It is, relatively speaking... but here's the thing."

The skin around the cut began to twitch — and then, gradually, the wound started closing.

"See that? I have regeneration too, as it happens. To kill me this way, you'd need to keep this up for no less than three straight days without food, water, or rest. So — what do you say?"
"Bold words for someone in your position...!"

Veilslayer materialized behind Kaftin in an instant.

Kaftin had been trying to bait him out with the provocation — and grinned the moment he felt it, twisting immediately to drive his elbow into Veilslayer's skull.

But —

"Tch—?!"
"Slow. Definitely slow. Your body is staggering — the strength, the durability — but your reflexes are below average for a human."

Veilslayer had already raked a long cut across Kaftin's side with his glass dagger and slipped away.
Kaftin ground his teeth and clenched the muscles around the wound, stemming the blood.

"You...! You really know how to make a nuisance of yourself...!"
"Even if what you say is true, it changes nothing...!"
"Oh? You're really going to commit to three full days of this?!"
"I am. If that's what you said it would take — I'm happy to oblige...!"

Veilslayer swept around him in dark streaks, grazing past from every angle — front, back, left, right.

Every time Kaftin reached out to grab him, his forearms were being carved up by a dozen unseen assassins.

"Ngh—! You—!"
"Don't worry... of the full roster of my personal assassination guild, I've brought a hundred. Three rotating shifts, around the clock, for three straight days — carving into you like a butcher scoring a steak. How does that sound?"
"......!!"

At Veilslayer's taunt, Kaftin roared and surged forward.

Veilslayer, who had already seen it coming, sidestepped smoothly and let Kaftin's momentum carry him into a stumble — and the moment he hit the ground, eight assassins materialized from nowhere and drove their blades down into his back.

"Get OFF—!"

He shook them off and grabbed — but they were trained too well for that, vanishing back into the treeline before his hands could close.

"Ngh—!"

Barely a minute and a half had passed. The ground around Kaftin was already spattered in blood on all sides.
His arms in particular — both forearms shredded so badly that the faint metallic gleam of bone was beginning to show through.

"With your reflexes, catching a veteran assassin with over ten years of training is simply impossible. So — if you surrender now..."
"Hahahaha...!"
"What is there to laugh about—! You know what position you're in!"
"This is incredible...!"
"What—?!"
"I don't care anymore...!"

A wash of red mist bloomed outward from Kaftin's body.
Veilslayer's eyes flickered — just for a moment — then he set his jaw and called into the trees.

"Everyone — Phase 2!"
"...By your command!"

They slipped deeper into the treeline, briefly pulled their masks aside, and drew ivory-colored lozenges from inside their coats, pressing them into their mouths before pulling the masks back into place.

"Don't let up on the attacks...! Keep him bleeding!"
"By your command!"

The assassins, masks back in order, pressed their assault through the spreading Corpse Poison mist — driving blade after blade into the shadow of Kaftin as his transformation began.

"......Grk?!"
"......!"

A few of them faltered for just an instant at the horrific sight of his body mid-transformation — eyes going wide — but their movements held, sharp and fluid.

And then, after a short time of trading blows through the poison —

SCREEEEANG!

"......!"
"GAAAAAAGH!"
"Damn it — everyone scatter—!"

The transformation was complete. Kaftin's thick carapace had rendered the assassins' blades useless.
The moment Veilslayer recognized it, he drove his people scattering deep into the trees.

This was where it truly decided itself.
They would have to find a way to keep striking the gaps in that armored shell — and do it while avoiding the catastrophically destructive attacks pouring from that enormous frame.

"Everyone — the real fight starts now. Move exactly as trained...!"
"By your command!"

Bwoooooom—!

As expected, the moment transformation completed, Kaftin began drawing the red mist into the intake vents along his forearms.

"Now—! Strike!"
"...Hm!"

Kaftin registered the presence of assassins rushing from the front, and swept his still-charging arm in a wide arc, generating a shockwave of displaced air.

"Ngh—?!"
"There—!"
"......!"

In the split second they staggered from the pressure, he slammed his not-yet-fully-charged fist down at one of them.
A heavy impact — the ground cratered under the blow — and the assassin let out a startled cry, hurling himself backward just far enough to clear it by the width of a sheet of paper.

"Tch—!"
"......!"

The assassin recovered his footing instantly, and rather than backing away from the fist Kaftin was raising again — used it as a platform, kicking off it to launch himself upward.

"Hm?!"
"Hyah—!"

In the same motion, he drove his dagger into the exposed bicep between the shoulder plate of Kaftin's carapace and the intake vent on his forearm.

"...You—!"
"......!"

Kaftin swatted at him with his free hand — but he had already kicked off and pulled back before the blow landed.

"Damned flies...!"
"Flies — I'd prefer mosquitoes, if you're taking requests. The kind that drain the blood of monsters and kill them doing it...!"
"Fine... keep flying then. Let's see how long you can keep it up!"

Bwooooooom—!

—To be continued—