Chapter 122: Theft!

“No matter how eccentric he was… what kind of master assassin would give the Black List to an outsider for personal reasons?!”

Unable to hold it in, Tua raised her voice.

“Maybe she was just a quirky assassin.”

“Someone who was on the scene at the time did say she was unusually worldly for an assassin.”

“See! I knew it!”

“Well now, how fascinating. Sir Drey, how do you know?”

“No, not that.”

“Huh?”

“I told you, didn’t I? That you’d be helpful in this matter!”

“…Ah.”

Wait.

Is that how this turned out?

Risir felt a surge of inexplicable frustration.

“…”

Tua, watching their exchange in stunned silence, gave up trying to understand.

“So, what now? Should I just write ‘Face Thief’ on this parchment?”

Risir had already pulled out an ink pen and brought it close to the parchment.

“W-Wait!!!”

Not only Tua but even Drey flinched and stopped him in panic.

“Oh, is that not how you use it?”

Risir scratched the back of his head with the pen as he asked.

This time, even Drey let out a chuckle.

“Even if you ask me…”

“Since Sir Drey recognized the item immediately, I assumed you were well informed.”

“Well, not really. I just blurted out a name I’d heard in a rumor.”

“… A rumor?”

“Yeah. Because it’s you.”

Risir once again felt a surge of indignation at Drey’s nonchalant attitude.

What is this?

He just blurts out wild guesses, and they all turn out to be right?

“Lady Tua, do you also not know much about this item?”

“Do I look like I would?” Tua looked at him, exhausted.

By now, the sharp glint that had filled her eyes earlier had faded.

“Then, let’s try writing ‘Face Thief’ on it for now. You said the Face Thief used to be the master of an assassin guild, right? It’s possible he was from the same guild as the one who gave me this.”

“No, no. Risir, wait. Are you really sure about using it here?”

“…”

Risir scratched his head with a troubled expression.

“To be honest, this item’s a bit of a nuisance for me. I rarely hate anyone enough to want them dead. The only one who comes to mind is… my father, maybe?”

“?”

“?”

“Well, that’s all in the past now. I don’t really have anyone in mind at the moment. Probably won’t change much in the future either. So, using this for you two might not be a bad idea. You both seem to understand its value, so I trust you’ll offer something worthy in return. Right?”

“…”

“…”

Both of their expressions stiffened slightly.

He wants us to pay for the Black List?

“Risir, how about you put that thing away for now.”

“Sorry?”

Tua tried to stop him with a conflicted expression.

“Coming from someone like you, I thought this must be a truly urgent matter.”

“It is urgent.”

“Then why…?”

“No, that’s not the issue—”

Seeing Tua flustered and struggling to respond, Drey stepped in for her.

“I didn’t think I’d ever use this phrase about a Face Thief, but… this might be like using a butcher’s cleaver to kill a chicken.”

Given the power and the value of the item, it made sense.

Even a high noble family like Mastien or De Villan might have to give up a cornerstone of their influence just to pay for its use.

“It’s not something that mobilizes one assassin… it mobilizes the entire guild.”

“….”

Risir stared at the parchment.

Mobilizes the entire guild?

What the hell did she give me?

By the sound of it, it wasn’t something that should be handed out as a personal favor.

Let alone by an assassin guild master.

He suddenly felt pity for the rest of the assassin guild, who must be beside themselves.

“That’s a shame. I wanted to be of help to you two.”

Risir reluctantly put the parchment away.

Sigh.

Both nobles instinctively let out a breath of relief.

“Oh, by the way, Lady Tua, may I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“I understand that this Face Thief committed the grave crime of killing a Hero Candidate. But… why is the De Villan family going after him? Even sending in the special forces?”

“He was under our family’s sponsorship.”

“Ah, I see.”

Risir immediately understood.

It wasn’t uncommon for noble houses to sponsor adventurers or artists to elevate their family’s prestige.

But I guess high nobles do sponsorships on a whole different scale.

At that moment, Drey, trying to steer the tense atmosphere back on track, asked Tua,

“So? Got a plan? How are you planning to track down the Face Thief in a city this big?”

“Considering his pattern so far, he won’t leave the city until he’s achieved his objective. And he won’t just lie low quietly.”

“What objective?”

“What else? Stealing faces.”

“…”

“His methods are bold, too bold for that word to even suffice. As long as he can steal powerful abilities, he’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Is that why you came straight to this manor?”

“….”

She had entered Bondalles in secret with Drey’s help, and now established a base inside the Goose manor without anyone’s knowledge, accompanied only by a select few elite troops.

Tua nodded.

“Yes. This manor has a lot worth stealing. So Drey, Risir, you both need to be careful.”

Tua also turned her gaze to Macey, who stood behind Drey.

Drey’s bodyguard gave a firm nod.

And just like that, the heavy meeting came to a close.

“Huff… Huff…”

Magnus, deputy commander of the De Villan Knight Order’s special forces.

As a 7th tier warrior, it was rare for him to be this out of breath.

Especially not in some shallow back alley where nothing but lowlifes wandered.

After spotting a suspicious figure on the streets and tailing him, he now stood face to face with that man.

A young man with a gentle, scruffy impression, despite his noble-like features.

He wore the armband of the Gray Tower, yet carried a sword.

That alone made him both intriguing and suspicious.

“Huff… Huff…”

The young man’s condition wasn’t much different from Magnus’s.

He was panting heavily from their confrontation.

At this point, both were nearing their limits.

Then, the scruffy young man’s demeanor suddenly changed.

“At this point, I have no choice. I’ll have to use that.”

“…!”

Magnus instinctively stepped back.

The man’s aura felt unusual.

Then he abruptly returned the sword to its scabbard and crouched low.

Like a four-legged predator right before a pounce.

“What now…?!”

Magnus braced himself with dread.

By now, he was sure of it—

This man was the Face Thief.

His ability to wield countless sword styles fluidly—no, perfectly—was beyond mere skill.

It was not just technique, but something closer to a phenomenon powered by another force.

There was no explanation for it, except that he was the Face Thief.

Among the techniques he had used flawlessly so far was the Hero’s own swordsmanship.

And even Magnus’s.

The rumor that the Face Thief had replicated a 7th tier’s unique style on the spot… was true.

And now, the Face Thief was about to unveil yet another unfamiliar sword technique.

Even someone as skilled as Magnus couldn’t help but tense.

No matter how unconventional his own style was, it could never match someone who had mastered dozens simultaneously.

Then, the crouching man’s aura surged.

It’s coming!

Another perfectly stolen sword technique!

Magnus focused all his senses on the man.

“…!”

But even so, he lost sight of him for an instant.

The scruffy-looking man was suddenly standing right in front of him.

And the sword in his hand had already been swung.

An unknown sword technique had already been unleashed.

“Ah…!”

Magnus let out a gasp.

He knew—instinctively.

That he had just been hit by a fatal strike from this mysterious sword style.

Smirk.

An evil smile twisted across the scruffy man’s face.

One that didn’t match his appearance.

Magnus braced himself for the pain—and death—to follow.

Time, which had felt unnaturally long, returned to normal.

A moment passed.

“…?”

“…?”

They were both confused.

Why… didn’t anything happen?

Sensing something was wrong, both Magnus and the man moved at the same time.

Magnus swung his sword, and the man used a strange footwork to leap back.

It was the same odd footwork he’d been using all along, a blend of multiple sword styles’ movements, harmonized with perfect timing.

It was clear how absurd and overwhelmingly unfair the Face Thief’s powers were, even within the realm of swordsmanship.

And yet. they didn’t understand what had just happened.

Magnus quickly checked himself for wounds.

Trying to find where he’d been hit.

But no matter how much he checked, there was no injury.

“…?”

Magnus looked at the young man in confusion.

“…?”

The young man looked back, just as confused.

Neither of them realized—

That for the first time ever, the Face Thief’s perfect power had failed to steal.

That even his ability had limits.

The Face Thief…

He had thought that sword technique he stole was just a strange style used by a mage.

But he was wrong.

That sword did not belong to the domain of man.

And that’s why… the theft had failed.