Irene steered her staff, flying through the air above the dense forest at extreme speed, carrying the half-demon boy with her.
Branches scraped past them, whistling sharply in the wind.
The half-demon boy held tight to the staff, his thin body trembling slightly in the rush of air.
His blood-red eyes were filled with vigilance.
Irene kept flicking her gaze back.
Her brows knitted tightly together, her lips pressed into a thin line.
She knew her magic scroll wouldn't hold her pursuer off for long.
Taking a deep breath, she poured mana into the staff, picking up her speed even further.
Yet, what she didn't know...
...was that the moment the Ross family had erected their magic pillars and connected them to the perception barrier...
...they had discovered the leftover half-demon.
And the other magic families participating in the hunt had discovered him as well.
Unlike the Ross family, these others were not a bunch of abandoned rich playboys sent out to die.
They were... true hunters.
Seven kilometers away.
Atop a massive dead tree, a figure wrapped in a dark cloak knelt on a branch.
His right hand gripped a dark gold shortbow.
Dense runes were carved into the bow's body, faint luminescence shimmering over them beneath the dim sky.
Two fingers of his left hand pinched a blunt arrow.
The shaft was pitch-black, wrapped in a visible shroud of wind.
The wind swirled slowly around the arrow, producing a faint, whispering hiss.
He raised his head.
Beneath the hood was a pair of narrow, sharp eyes like a hawk's.
Those eyes were locked onto Irene, who was flying in the far distance.
The corner of his mouth curled into a slight arc.
Then...
...he released the fingers holding the arrow.
Swish!
A sharp piercing sound abruptly shattered the silence above the dense forest.
The arrow transformed into a streak of faint blue light, tearing through the air at incredible speed as it shot toward its target seven kilometers away.
It threaded between gaps in the branches and veered around thick trunks.
It skimmed beneath the wing of a flying demon, startling the creature into a violent barrel roll.
The arrow's speed did not decay in the slightest.
Like a silent judgment reaching out from the shadows of the forest...
...it struck the flying staff with absolute precision.
Boom!
A massive impact exploded across the shaft.
Irene and the half-demon boy were blasted off the staff at the same time.
Neither of them had any time to react.
They tumbled through the sky, tracing a high arc in the air...
...before slamming heavily onto the ground deep within the forest.
A drop from over ten meters high.
It was enough to severely injure an unshielded mage.
Irene's back smashed into the dirt and fallen branches, carving out a shallow crater.
Her bones creaked with a sickening crunch.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Bloody froth welled from the corner of her mouth, dripping down her chin into the dark soil.
The half-demon boy crashed down not far from her.
He struggled to pull himself up, but his arms buckled, and he tumbled back down.
In those blood-red eyes, vigilance was finally replaced by another emotion.
Fear.
Irene lay amidst dead leaves and soil, her black hair splayed across the dirt.
Her chest rose and fell, though every breath brought agonizing pain.
A figure stepped out from the shadows.
It was a man dressed in dark leather armor.
Lean, agile, and silent of foot.
Two short blades hung at his waist, his long fingers slightly curved.
His presence was concealed to the absolute limit.
Had he not actively revealed himself, one could barely sense his existence.
An assassin.
A High-tier Transcendent assassin.
He glanced down at Irene lying on the ground.
Then he looked over at the half-demon boy.
The corner of his mouth turned up in a subtle arc.
Then he moved.
His body left an afterimage in the air.
In an instant, he appeared right before the half-demon boy.
Before the half-demon boy could react...
...one hand clamped down on the back of his neck.
With his other hand, he pulled out a metal collar.
The inner side of the collar was etched with dense binding runes, gleaming with a cold silver light in the dim environment.
Click.
The collar snapped shut around the half-demon boy's neck.
The half-demon boy's body stiffened violently.
He instinctively reached up to grab the collar.
The moment his fingers touched the cold metal...
Zzzzt!
Blue electric currents burst from the collar.
The half-demon boy trembled violently, screaming as he collapsed to his knees.
His fingers curled, nails digging deep into the soil.
His blood-red eyes overflowed with pain.
The assassin smirked.
His smile was faint, filled with a condescending, predatory indifference.
“Don't bother struggling.”
“You ought to be intimately familiar with how this thing feels.”
The half-demon boy gritted his teeth and remained silent.
Yet his body continued to quiver uncontrollably.
The assassin withdrew his gaze and turned toward Irene lying on the ground.
He drew a short blade from his waist.
The blade glimmered with a cold, sharp sheen in the daylight.
He took a step, closing in on Irene one stride at a time.
His footsteps were very light.
His boots produced a faint rustling noise as they stepped on the dry grass.
Every pace was unhurried.
Every pace dripped with pressure.
Lying on the ground, Irene watched the pair of boots draw nearer and nearer.
Her fingers clutched at the dirt.
She wanted to get up.
However, her body simply would not obey.
The severe trauma from the high-altitude fall made her limbs feel as though they were filled with lead.
With every twitch, her bones screamed.
She gritted her teeth, trying to mobilize her mana.
Her magic circuits felt blocked, completely unresponsive.
She attempted to chant.
All that came from her throat was a muffled groan.
The assassin walked up to her.
He looked down on her from above.
He spun the short blade through his fingers before letting it hang at his side.
The tip of the blade pointed straight toward Irene.
“Ross, oh Ross...”
“Ah, now I remember. The City of a Thousand Towers indeed has a family by that name.”
His voice was soft, laced with a hint of amusement.
It was as if he were recalling something funny.
“Your family is considered quite respectable in the City of a Thousand Towers.”
“Why couldn't you think straight and insist on wading into these muddy waters?”
He squatted down.
Resting the short blade beneath Irene's chin, he gently tilted her face upward.
Irene was forced to look up.
Her black hair was scattered in the mud.
Her black eyes reflected the assassin's cold face.
The assassin looked at her.
“Wasn't it fine to just be a good little perception node? Why did you have to get greedy?”
“This hunt isn't something your family is qualified to take a cut of.”
“Trying to join the hunt?”
He shook his head.
“You really don't know your place.”
He shifted the short blade away from her chin.
The tip now rested against her throat.
The icy metallic touch sent a chill straight down Irene's spine.
The assassin tightened his grip on the hilt.
“A person ought to have self-awareness.”
“If something isn't yours to touch, keep your hands off it.”
“Remember that in your next life.”
He raised the short blade.
The tip traced a cold streak of light under the sun.
And then...
...he thrust it down.
Irene instinctively closed her eyes.
The expected death did not come.
The sharp clatter of clashing blades rang out beside Irene's ears.
It was deafening, making her eardrums ache.
She snapped her eyes open.
A cascade of long golden hair fluttered in her view.
Golden, dazzling, like a waterfall woven from sunlight.
A woman stood in front of her.
Holding a rapier, its blade locked against the assassin's short blade.
Sparks showered from between the clashing edges.
The airflow blew the woman's golden hair aside, revealing a side profile so exquisite it was nearly perfect.
High brow, straight nose.
Her lips were pressed into a tight line, her golden eyes overflowing with killing intent.
Veins bulged along her arm.
Her rapier pinned the short blade down firmly, refusing to let it penetrate a single millimeter further.
With a low growl, battle force erupted from within her body.
A silver-white radiance blazed across the rapier.
The light grew brighter and more dazzling by the second.
The assassin's pupils shrank slightly.
He tried to pull back his blade and retreat.
However, it was already too late.
Elvia twisted her wrist, jerking her rapier upward in a fierce slash.
A massive wave of silver-white sword qi erupted from the tip of the blade.
It was not a slender, concentrated silver thread...
...but a broad, violent crescent wave of force.
The sword qi tore through the air, uttering a screeching whistle.
The assassin took the full brunt of the sword qi.
His entire body flew backward as if struck by a sledgehammer.
He tumbled twice in the air before landing on the ground.
His boots plowed two deep grooves into the dirt, skidding for over ten meters before coming to a halt.
The assassin stabilized his footing.
He raised his head.
For the first time, gravity appeared in those cold eyes.
Without hesitation...
...his figure flickered and vanished on the spot.
Concealment.
What an assassin excelled at most was hunting from the shadows.
Elvia stood firm with her sword in front of Irene.
Her feet were shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent.
Her rapier pointed diagonally toward the ground, its blade still quivering slightly.
Her long golden hair was blown somewhat messy by the wind.
A few strands stuck to her sweaty cheeks.
Her chest heaved slightly, her breathing somewhat rapid.
Yet those golden eyes shone with astonishing intensity.
Without turning her head, she surveyed her surroundings vigilantly, trying to spot the concealed assassin.
From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Irene lying on the ground.
“How are you holding up? Can you still stand?”
Irene stared at her blankly, her lips moving slightly.
“Why... did you...”
Her words caught in her throat midway.
She didn't know what to ask.
Why did you save me?
Why are you here?
Who on earth are you?
Elvia let out a light chuckle.
“I never intended to hurt you in the first place.”
“After all, you protected a client we've been searching for a long time.”
“They still owe me several million gold coins they haven't paid back.”
Elvia shifted her gaze to the corner.
She looked over at the half-demon boy locked in the binding collar.
The boy knelt on the ground, his body still trembling slightly.
Blood-red eyes peered out from between strands of messy hair.
Carrying vigilance, hostility, and fear.
Those eyes were so piercing, yet so familiar.
Elvia's brows knitted slightly.
The prey turned out to be a half-demon? Why hunt a half-demon?
Elvia had a head full of questions.
However, now was hardly the time to ask.
The enemy was likely still hiding nearby.
A High-tier Transcendent assassin.
Even in the Carter Royal Capital, such a person was an absolute powerhouse.
Even with her swollen confidence...
...Elvia couldn't entertain the slightest hope of defeating him head-on.
She clicked her tongue inwardly.
If I had caught him off guard earlier...
...and chopped straight at his neck before he could activate his protective battle force...
...even if I couldn't kill him, I could have severely wounded him.
But he also could have killed Irene the moment I moved.
Have I really gone soft after spending time with that bastard Lin Gui??
What did this woman's life or death have to do with her? Yet she had saved her anyway.
While Elvia's mind wandered...
...she maintained her knight stance to protect Irene.
Her eyes continuously scanned every corner.
Tree canopy, thickets, shadows behind rocks...
Any place that could conceal a foe.
Her fingers gripped the sword hilt until her knuckles turned white.
She held her breath very light.
Her ears pricked up, catching every faint sound in the area.
And just when her nerves were stretched to the absolute limit...
...a voice sounded beside her ear.
Very faint, very soft.
Carrying a trace of helplessness.
“No need to search.”
“He ran off.”
“Along with that ranger.”
Elvia's body froze.
Then she went limp, as though her bones had been yanked out.
Her shoulders slumped.
She let out a long, heavy breath.
The intent to kill in her golden eyes dissolved, replaced by a touch of relief at having survived a close call.
She turned around and looked at Lin Gui behind her.
Lin Gui stepped out from behind a patch of dead bushes.
Black hair, black eyes.
A gray mage robe, an oak staff.
Elvia looked at him.
“I thought you'd make a move on him.”
Lin Gui shook his head.
“I wanted to... but...”
“...he ran too fast.”
Although the assassin had concealed himself, he couldn't evade Lin Gui's Eyes of the Netherworld.
Even though that assassin turned back and realized his attacker was merely a High-tier High Rank knight...
...he still took off at top speed anyway.
Without the slightest lingering hesitation.
“As expected of a High-tier Transcendent assassin.”
“Such alertness, such decisiveness.”
Lin Gui withdrew his gaze and looked at Irene behind Elvia.
Their eyes met.
Irene stared at him.
Looking at his black hair and black eyes...
...her eyes overflowed with an unmistakable, unhideable loathing.
Lin Gui paused for a moment.
What's with this inexplicable disgust? I don't even know her.
However, he didn't press further.
He walked over to the half-demon boy kneeling on the ground.
His boots rustled softly against the dry grass.
The boy looked up, his blood-red eyes glaring intently at him.
His body recoiled backward slightly.
The collar around his neck was still faint blue.
With every flash, the boy's body quivered slightly.
Lin Gui squatted down.
He held out his hand.
“Gray Dagger.”
Elvia drew the dagger from her waist and handed it over.
Lin Gui took it.
The blade was dull gray and thoroughly unimpressive.
It held no luster whatsoever.
Hugh had said this thing could peel right through Stellar-tier Armor.
It was absurdity sharp.
In that case, it should be able to destroy the collar before the mechanism could react.
Lin Gui gripped the Gray Dagger, aiming the tip at the collar on the boy's neck.
The boy's body tensed up violently.
His blood-red eyes widened, staring dead at the gray dagger.
It was less than two fingers' breadth away from his throat.
His breathing grew rapid.
His chest heaved erratically.
His fingers clutched the soil, knuckles turning white.
His lips trembled, wanting to say something.
Yet only muffled syllables escaped his throat.
Lin Gui looked at him.
“Don't move.”
“It'll hurt you.”
His voice was mild.
Yet there was no order or threat in his tone.
It was a simple statement of fact.
As if stating something completely natural.
The boy froze.
He stared into those black eyes.
In those eyes, there was no hostility, no prejudice, and no patronizing scrutiny.
There was only a calm, inexplicably reassuring indifference.
He didn't know why he felt that way.
He subconsciously obeyed the instruction.
Lin Gui held the Gray Dagger steadily.
He pressed the tip against the edge of the collar's clasp.
With a gentle pry...
Snap!
The crisp sound of snapping metal echoed.
The collar broke open, sliding down off the boy's neck to hit the ground.
It fell with a dull thud.
The boy's breath caught.
He reached up involuntarily to touch his neck.
Residual marks from the tight collar remained on his skin.
However, the cold, suffocating restraint was gone.
He raised his head, looking at the black-haired youth before him.
His lips parted.
“...Thank you.”
His voice was rasping, squeezed out from the depths of his throat.
The moment he said it, even he felt astonished.
Why was he saying thank you to a human?
This person was a human.
He belonged to the very same race as the mages who hunted him and wanted to use him for experiments.
He ought to hate them and be on guard against them.
Yet the feeling this man gave him was unexpectedly comforting.
Just like... Mr. Hewlett.
The boy looked at Lin Gui and Elvia and asked,
“Who are you people? Why did you save me?”
Hearing the question, Lin Gui stood up and raised his hand.
Slender streams of mana seeped from his fingertips.
Deep in the thicket, the outline of the flying vessel emerged.
Its silver-white metal gleamed coldly in the sunlight.
Behind the flying vessel, several heavy sacks of grain were attached.
One sack, two sacks, three sacks...
Neatly arranged, hanging from the rear of the craft.
Lin Gui lowered his hand.
He looked at the half-demon boy before him and smiled softly.
“As for us...”
“We were hired by the Dalton family of Whitecliff City.”
“To deliver grain to Withered Wood Town.”
“The Dalton people said you'd come looking for the goods on your own.”
He paused for a moment.
“Turns out we waited in Withered Wood Town for two weeks without seeing you come to collect them.”
“So, we came over...”
“...to deliver it right to your door.”
“So, could you please sign for it?”
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