Chapter 140
A shabby pawnshop stood in a back alley on the outskirts of Valaris.
At that mont, a murderous pressure that did not belong there at all lingered in the air.
The old man, who was pretending to be the owner of the pawnshop, asked back with sharp eyes.
“ So it was you who’s been poking around the back alleys lately. I figured you wouldn’t be an ordinary fellow, but to already co this far… you’re quite sothing. Fine. You wouldn’t have co all the way here without knowing what this is… who are you. What kind of relationship do you have with ‘that person’?”
Hastings imdiately grasped who the old man was referring to as ‘that person’.
‘…As expected, I wasn’t wrong.’
As the old man, having thrown away the pretense of being a frail pawnshop owner, spoke bluntly to Hastings, Hastings’s manner of speech also changed.
“I am… the successor… personally chosen by him.”
At Hastings’s answer, claiming himself as the successor of Marcellus, the old man narrowed his eyes.
“Did he… pass away?”
“Yes. As far as I know, that is the case.”
A subtly phrased answer—‘as far as I know’.
Yet the old man imdiately read its aning.
‘As far as you know… so you weren’t there with him at the end….’
“I could not be with him because I inherited the mission he carried in life.”
On the day Yuwon had to leave the Empire, Marcellus had remained at the Tomb of Swords with the Ravens until the very end, fighting against the enemies led by Ipalim.
“I see. That must be so. He was soone who even left this place behind, saying it was because of a mission bound to his very life… he must have chosen a successor and fulfilled that mission to the end… that’s why he chose one in the first place….”
The old man fell silent for a brief mont, as if recalling the past.
After that short silence, he continued with another question.
“Do you know his na?”
“I don’t believe it was my teacher’s real na, but as far as I know, it was Marcel—”
“Enough.”
The old man cut Hastings off, as though there was no need to hear more.
“…?”
“He said this when he left this place. That soday, in the distant future, a red-eyed raven would co here. He even ntioned a ridiculous na.”
At the old man’s words, Hastings’s gaze naturally shifted to his dagger.
“Hmm….”
A dagger engraved with a raven spreading its wings.
The raven’s eye, set with a red jewel, reflected the light of the magical lamp illuminating the pawnshop and glimred faintly.
While Hastings’s gaze lingered on the raven dagger, the old man murmured softly, as if to himself.
“Salaman… it was Salaman.”
“…?”
“That was the na he used here.”
“Ah….”
Marcellus and Salaman.
He had thought there was sothing strangely similar about them, and indeed, when reading Salaman’s three characters backward, it was not very different from the ‘Marcel’ in Marcellus.
“To think sothing like this would happen before I died… living on without dying at my age was worth it after all. What is your na, child?”
“Hastings. Hastings Bartlett.”
“Hastings… good, I understand. Then from now on….”
Before Hastings could stop him, the old man’s body moved toward the floor.
Dragging his aged body, the old man pressed himself low to the ground and offered a formal salute.
It was an old greeting of utmost reverence, one only seen within assassin orders.
“…Hastings, you are the leader of the Assassin Order.”
Twenty-five years ago.
One day, a man nad Salaman had walked into the Southern Assassin Order of his own accord and placed that secretive, prideful organization beneath his feet.
This was the mont when Hastings, the successor chosen by Marcellus, obtained the first testant that Salaman had left behind long ago for his successor.
Three hours later.
The old man, who had introduced himself as Naramshin, and Hastings left Valaris behind and walked side by side through the southern desert.
Having beco convinced that Hastings was the successor of Marcellus—no, Salaman—Naramshin did not let him rest and kept urging him onward.
“I don’t particularly like dragging things out either… but do we really need to confirm this so urgently, in the middle of the night?”
“That explanation will be given slowly once the leader finishes his task and cos out. For now… there seems to be no benefit in wasting ti. Ah… and regarding your real na, Leader—Hastings—I alone will know it. While you remain in the south, it would be best not to use your real na.”
“Hmm… very well.”
“It would also be good to change that robe and your appearance. Ah, I didn’t an right this mont. First… there is sothing you must do before standing in front of the others.”
“What do you an by that? Th—”
“Leader, you may simply call Chief Steward.”
“Yes, Chief Steward.”
“…It seems we’ll also have to fix the way you speak so politely to , but that isn’t urgent today, so we’ll leave it for later.”
“Haha… let’s do that. Slowly. But at this point, shouldn’t you at least tell where we’re going? Where exactly are we headed?”
Naramshin had been urging him forward without giving him ti to speak, but now he seed willing to indulge him a little—it seed they were almost there.
Hastings did not miss the chance and pressed on with his question.
“After Salaman-nim left his seat vacant, I continued to act on behalf of the leader. Among those duties was guarding an item that the previous leader, Salaman-nim, entrusted to for a ti.”
“An entrusted item… so you’re planning to show it to .”
“Yes, that’s correct. It’s an item that has long been asleep… and now that it has finally found its owner, I couldn’t be more relieved. Then… this way.”
Cutting the conversation short once more, Naramshin increased his pace and hurried ahead.
It was clear that the position of acting leader of the Assassin Order was not sothing he had obtained lightly—Naramshin’s full speed was enough to tax even Hastings just to keep up.
Another fifteen minutes passed.
The two of them stood in the middle of a desolate stretch of desert, where not even rchants traveling between southern villages would tread.
Before them lood a gigantic stone cavern and a massive stone gate.
“…This is the place. If you enter inside, you will be able to confirm the item Salaman-nim left for you, Leader.”
Despite already having arrived, the Chief Steward urged Hastings on, as if he were pressed for ti.
“Aren’t you going in, Chief Steward?”
“I cannot enter even if I wish to. The only one this gate permits is the sole owner of the raven dagger.”
With the Chief Steward speaking this firmly, there was no room to argue.
Hastings nodded and approached the stone gate.
“Hmm… understood. Then….”
At the unspoken urging conveyed through the Chief Steward’s gaze, Hastings gathered his courage and stepped closer to the cavern’s entrance.
Kiiiii—
Grrrk— grrrk—!
True to the Chief Steward’s words, as Hastings drew near, the red eye of the raven dagger began to emit an eerie light, and the enormous stone gate trembled as if it were about to open, scattering stone dust.
“Then… I’ll go in.”
A few steps back from the gate, the Chief Steward sent Hastings off with a gentle smile.
“Please return safely. I will pray here for the Leader’s safe return.”
After the brief farewell, Hastings placed his hand on the stone gate.
As if it had been waiting for that touch, the massive gate, which had seed immovable, was pushed open with a thunderous sound.
Kurrrrumble—
Passing through the opened gate, Hastings finally entered the cavern.
Perhaps believing that everyone who needed to enter had already done so, the cavern gate then slamd shut once more with a deafening noise.
Boom—!
Left alone in the desert after Hastings disappeared, the Chief Steward looked up at the sky with a sense of relief.
“So this is the end of my duty….”
But such sentint did not last long.
Sensing the creeping killing intent crawling in from all directions, Naramshin frowned.
“…So it seems not.”
It was not that Naramshin had noticed them first.
Rather, they revealed their presence to him.
Figures emitting an unpleasant killing intent slowly closed in around Naramshin.
And ten minutes later, the owners of that killing intent appeared before him.
“Step aside, Chief Steward. Today, I will claim the legacy Salaman left behind, revive the order, cross the desert, and head for the Central Martial World.”
Unlike the Chief Steward, who sought to carry on Salaman’s will, Amrum was a core figure of the anti-leader faction, one who had nurtured deep hostility toward Salaman for abandoning the Assassin Order and disappearing.
Gathered around Amrum, the mbers of the anti-leader faction surrounded the Chief Steward.
“Amrum… my friend… you know well that even if you kill , those without the qualifications cannot pass through that gate….”
“With the firepower of magicians, a re stone gate like that is hardly impossible to break through.”
“Tsk tsk… for soone of the Assassin Order to even consider borrowing the power of magicians… you’ve been blinded by greed. Truly blind….”
“Is it really acceptable for Salaman’s legacy to fall into the hands of an outsider over nothing more than that dagger? That looks far stranger to . Out of gratitude for how hard you’ve worked all this ti to fill the leader’s vacant seat, I don’t wish to harm you, Chief Steward. Step aside from that gate while I’m still being polite!”
Of course, if words alone were enough to make him step aside, he would not have been standing here in the first place.
“Foolish Amrum. I have lived without dying all this ti for the sake of today. Do you truly think that threatening with what little life I have left would make step aside now?”
At the Chief Steward’s answer, Amrum ground his teeth.
“Naramshin… you bastard… if you insist on going this far….”
From the beginning, things had not gone as easily as Amrum had hoped.
Having already steeled himself when he chased the Chief Steward here, Amrum ignited his fighting spirit.
“Yes, yes, that’s how it should be. Co without hesitation, Amrum. From the start, wasn’t this why you gathered your forces so desperately, knowing this wouldn’t be easy?”
Amrum was not the only one whose fighting spirit burned.
The Chief Steward as well, who had waited for this very day while fulfilling his entrusted duty for countless years, blazed with resolve as he stood to face them.
“Co. Today, I will show you why this old body stood in for the Leader’s vacant seat.”
In the heart of a barren southern desert, where no human foot normally reached, a wind carrying the stench of blood blew.
The second testant that Marcellus had prepared for his successor.
At that very mont, Hastings was stepping one pace closer to it.
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