Chapter 66: The Shadow Clan
The perspective returned to just before the mana cannon was fired.
Above the sky, a pitch-black, unidentified airship.
There, kneeling on one knee, stood figures clad in black masks and garnts, with appearances slightly different from ordinary humans.
They exuded an aura as sharp as freshly forged blades from a smithy, and as blood-scented as freshly butchered at from a slaughterhouse...
Such was the foul and blasphemous presence they emanated.
It couldn't be helped.
This was the burden of the life they had lived, and would continue to live.
Because from an age too young to rember, they had belonged to a group that could only breathe by feeding off the deaths of others.
─Assassins’ Guild, Depicio.
Though they hovered above the sky, a privilege granted only to a chosen few, none of them showed any joy or excitent.
They rely remained still in silence, as if believing that stillness itself was a virtue.
Part of the reason was that the assassins gathered aboard this airship were the elite among elites of Depicio.
But that wasn’t the only reason.
Tap, tap, tap.
At that mont, a low and steady sound of footsteps broke the silence. When a person walks, they usually make so sort of noise.
The dragging of shoes, a jaunty bounce, or the faint tapping of heels like now.
Even such minor sounds revealed the unique character of their owner.
To those with keen hearing, sounds were no different from fingerprints.
─But here’s the thing.
Now, in the middle of this pitch-black airship filled with assassins, footsteps could be heard—plainly?
...This was exceedingly ‘strange’!
The assassins aboard this airship were the finest of the elite in Depicio.
They were leagues beyond half-baked nobodies who couldn't hide their presence or sounds.
Their stealth skills rivaled that of ghost-type Geoma.
They could stand in the middle of a crowded plaza, and their presence would still go unnoticed—such was the pinnacle of concealnt they achieved.
Would such assassins tolerate a comrade recklessly making footstep sounds?
The answer… was no.
With 100% certainty, the mont soone made a sound, throwing knives would fly from every direction, turning them into a pincushion.
Tap, tap—
Thus, the sound of these heels ant one thing—that the person making them was doing so intentionally.
“...Everyone’s gathered, I see.”
And also, that this person held a position so high that such noise was tolerated even in the presence of elite assassins.
“It’s been a while.”
Finally, the owner of the sound revealed herself. Dressed in the sa black garb as the other assassins, her face hidden beneath a long black scarf that fell to the floor...
She was a woman of dazzlingly bright silver hair—so strikingly beautiful it stung the eyes.
“We greet the White Moon─!”
Boom!
The mont she appeared, the kneeling assassins all cried out in unison, bowing their heads to the floor.
As if her figure was too sacred to be seen, they paid reverent respect.
“...You’re the sa as ever.”
Though one might expect her to be surprised, the woman addressed as “White Moon” appeared entirely unfazed, as if it was routine.
Ssshhh— She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and spoke.
“More importantly… Where is the Yellow Moon? I heard he was in charge of this mission.”
Her indifferent voice, cold and noble like her aura, slipped softly from lips redder than roses.
Each word she spoke felt like a crimson petal drifting down.
“From what I know, he’s already arrived—”
But just then! Before she could finish her sentence, White Moon suddenly bent backward sharply at the waist.
It was the right choice.
Swishswishswishswish!
For the mont she dodged, a barrage of sharp knives ca flying and embedded themselves where she had stood!
With a sidelong glance, White Moon elegantly straightened her deeply bent body. As if her hips were spring-loaded, she returned to her stance with incredible speed.
“You… haven’t changed at all. Yellow Moon. Even after all this ti.”
Spoken with a sneer, White Moon imdiately took a defensive posture.
With swift movents, she drew two daggers strapped to her thighs and crouched low.
At the sa ti, she focused on the nurous shurikens flying at her with astonishing speed.
“Still as reckless as ever.”
White Moon muttered through gritted teeth, but showed no signs of panic despite the onslaught.
She gripped the crescent-shaped daggers in both hands—so tightly her veins popped.
‘One, two...’
She tid it carefully in her mind.
As the shurikens neared her face—
‘Three!’
—Now!
White Moon began swinging her dual daggers freely.
Clang—! Cling, clingclingclingcling!
She deflected every flying shuriken. Dozens of them, bounced away one by one as she struck them at precise angles.
All of her movents were swift, smooth, and flawless.
Because of this, it appeared that she had completely nullified the deadly flurry of shurikens with a single defensive motion.
Had soone witnessed White Moon at that mont, they would have all said the sa:
‘Beautiful!’
…they would’ve exclaid.
Had it been a warrior, they would have been dumbfounded by her movents.
The strength, precision, the sequencing of steps, coordination of follow-up attacks, and distribution of mana… all of it was considered and seamlessly woven into each action.
Even if the witness weren’t a warrior—in fact, especially if they weren’t—they would have admired her more.
White Moon’s movents were as refined as finely-woven silk, as beautiful as a full-bloom moonlit night.
It felt less like she was in combat, and more like she was performing a serene ballet.
Thwack!
The shurikens she had deflected embedded themselves in a perfect circle around White Moon.
It looked like a circus act—an astonishing feat of precision.
“......”
Still, the airship remained steeped in heavy silence, just as before.
No matter how radiant White Moon was, no fool in this room dared lay their eyes on her.
Clap clap clap!
Then suddenly, applause rang out. White Moon raised her dagger and turned around.
“You haven’t changed either, White Moon.”
A playful voice accompanied the sudden flight of a machete!
“...Kgh!”
The jungle blade, charged with a notable amount of mana, collided with her dagger and released a shockwave.
White Moon furrowed her delicate brows and let out a short groan. The murderous mana imbued in the blade was too fierce to dismiss as a prank.
Clang—!
Yet White Moon easily deflected the machete.
Then ca a whistle—light in tone, but sohow mocking.
“...Yellow Moon. What’s the aning of this? That’s a rather intense welco.”
White Moon glared murderously at the empty ceiling for so reason. There, the shadow cast by a giant chandelier hung.
Without hesitation, she plucked a shuriken from the floor and hurled it at the shadow.
Whoosh—!
But before it could reach, the shuriken spun midair and fell to the ground.
“Hello, White Moon.”
Soon, a shadow dropped from the ceiling—a man wearing a mischievous grin.
Curiously, he too had snow-white hair like White Moon.
“I was testing whether your skills had dulled from the long infiltration. This mission was rather unique, after all. And it was your first ti doing that kind of mission.”
“...Such nonsense. Needless interference. Displeasing.”
“Really? Oof, that hurts. But it’s already in the past~ so forgive ?”
Chuckling without a shred of apology, the man said,
“It’s been a while since we last t, hasn’t it, dear kin of mine?”
“...Pointless chatter.”
Now, let us speak of the identity of these two white-haired individuals.
They were part of the ruling class at the core of Depicio.
Though Depicio accepted mbers regardless of race… even among them, this clan—this bloodline—was special.
─Shadow Clan.
Masters of the midnight hour, harvesting countless lives while lting into the shadows.
Silent, traceless, without presence—the embodint of the reaper who delivers perfect, peaceful death.
From newborns just learning to walk to elders leaning on canes, the art of assassination for the Shadow Clan was as natural as breathing.
Truly, calling them an “assassin clan” was no exaggeration.
“Still... as expected of you, White Moon. Impressive!”
Yet even for them, this mission was a difficult one.
“This infiltration required sealing away mories, identity—everything that proved who you were—and starting from a complete blank slate...”
“......”
“And on top of that, there was an important operation you had to complete in that state.”
Yellow Moon shook his head dramatically as he spoke.
“The Master and Black Moon seed to trust you. But ? I had doubts about the whole mission’s effectiveness from the start.”
Shing—
A sharp knife slid right up to White Moon’s pale nape. Just the blade touching her skin drew a thin trickle of blood.
“Would the moryless you beco a loyal Depicio assassin—‘White Moon’? Or... a naïve village girl? No one could say.”
Despite his rough and hostile tone, Yellow Moon did not drive the knife deeper.
Whoosh!
With a graceful motion, he withdrew the knife and squinted his eyes in a smirk.
“But White Moon, you completed the mission perfectly and returned. It was just worrying needlessly. I apologize.”
“......”
“You really are the pride of Depicio. Outstanding! The youngest to ever earn the title of ‘Moon’. Now I finally get why the Master nad you as such.”
Grinning, Yellow Moon tapped White Moon on the shoulder and strolled to the seat of honor. She quietly followed.
So neither Yellow Moon nor the bowing assassins realized—
“......”
Though White Moon’s face betrayed no emotion, her tightly clenched hands threatened to burst.
As if trying to suppress a surging emotion.
“It was a grueling, long-term mission. You should’ve had ti to rest... but that old man insisted on deploying you again?”
“That’s right. The order ca to join Yellow Moon and assassinate Aajen Clover.”
“That’s rough~ White Moon. Seriously…”
For a brief mont, Yellow Moon’s eyes glead with killing intent.
“That old man... always ddling…”
As the atmosphere grew more sinister, an assassin approached.
“Yellow Moon, there’s contact from the surface.”
“Oh? Ha! Speak of the devil, and he appears~”
Grinning, Yellow Moon poured mana into the communicator. Soon, a familiar voice sounded from the orb.
[W-what happened? You did as I said, right?]
It was the voice of Fitztz Magpie.
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