The Leviathan Group.
A group of contracted killers that did not take on just any job, but assignnts specifically ant for killing.
Their expertise ranged from business owners, CEOs, politicians, nobles, to figures who held influence in the shadows, people whose existence beca inconvenient to soone with enough power to pay.
But they weren’t rcenaries in the traditional sense.
They were covert professionals who blended into society, living normal lives outside of the initiative.
To the public, they were nothing out of the ordinary.
Until a contract was issued.
For Lancel, it had always been different.
He wasn’t soone who joined later or took on the role by choice. He had been raised within the initiative itself, shaped from the beginning for a single purpose.
Eliminating a specific kind of threat.
Witches.
Naturally, ordinary humans could never hope to stand against them. The gap was too large.
It was often said that it would take at least fifteen A-rank adventurers to bring down even the weakest witch.
Ten, perhaps, if the target wasn’t combat-oriented. The gap was just insurmountable.
But the Leviathan Group was different. Among all humans, they were one of the few entities witches were actually wary of.
"While that may have been my occupation in the past," Lancel said, "I left the organization long before I ever set foot in Riviere."
"Mhm. " Faust said, " from what I gathered, your last assignnt was Leticia Herscher. And based on that, you must have left after sustaining serious injuries. If that is the case, then everything points to you being the one who killed her."
"Yeah. That might be how it looks," Lancel admitted. "But like I said... I didn’t kill her."
"Then explain her death," Faust pressed. "Did you even know she was Angelica’s apprentice?"
"...No. At least, not at the ti."
Lancel already knew how deep Angelica’s grudge ran.
He had tried explaining it before, over and over again, that it wasn’t him. That he hadn’t killed her.
But Angelica hadn’t listened. According to her, Leticia wasn’t just another apprentice. She had raised her since infancy. That alone was enough to blind her to anything else.
Even now, nothing he said would change that.
"But she died... right before my eyes..."
Faust didn’t look away. "Then how does that happen?"
Lancel raised a hand in surrender.
"Hold on," he said. "Why are you suddenly antagonizing , Faust? I thought we were on the sa side."
Faust let out a sigh. The spike moved again, pressing closer to his throat.
"I’ll make this simple," she said. "Have you ever encountered an Outer God?"
"...An Outer God?"
Lancel paused.
He knew the term. Entities that didn’t belong to this world, things that defied understanding, things no one should ever co into contact with.
But actually encountering one?
"I haven’t..."
"Or do you just not rember?"
"I said I haven’t," Lancel replied. "That day, the organization realized I had deserted. They sent people after us. Miss Leticia protected and—"
Lancel’s lips pressed together. Recalling that mory was difficult. It wasn’t sothing he could piece together properly, not because he didn’t want to, but because there was a gap.
He had blacked out then.
And when he ca to, what he saw was Leticia Herscher torn in half, the assassin nowhere to be seen, and his arm fractured beyond repair.
"...She died."
It took a while to explain everything, and even then, Lancel still couldn’t understand why Faust had suddenly turned against him like this.
None of it made sense from his perspective. He had told her what he knew, or at least as much as he could piece together.
Then Faust spoke.
"You said you went to a lot of healers to fix your arm. But according to Angelica... your arm was tainted by an Outer God."
"...What? That’s..."
It sounded like complete bullshit.
But at the sa ti, the misunderstanding itself was easy to follow. If he traced it back, if he looked at it from Faust’s perspective, then the reason she was acting like this beca clear.
"D-Do you think an Outer God is sohow hiding inside my arm?"
"It’s plausible," Faust replied. "But I checked your arm last night while you were asleep. I don’t sense any lingering traces anymore. Even so..."
Lancel looked up, eting her gaze directly.
He didn’t like where this was going.
"I’ll have to confine you for the ti being, Lancel—"
"Are you kidding ..."
One captor for another.
So it had co to this.
Trusting Faust had been a mistake from the start. In the end, she was no different from Angelica. They were witches, all the sa.
And yet, he could sohow understand it.
If there was even a chance that sothing dangerous was involved, then even he would want to confirm it himself. Faust simply had the power to act on that instinct without wasting any ti.
But that didn’t make it fair.
At that mont, the cold beneath him crept upward, encasing his entire leg in place.
"I won’t do to you what Angelica did. I promise..."
"Is this because of who I was?" Lancel asked. "A witch hunter?"
"No, not at all!" Faust quickly said. "Don’t misunderstand. I’m an Erudition. When there’s even the slightest lead, I can’t afford to ignore it. I have to follow through—"
"Faust."
"...."
"My whole life, I’ve lived as a captive. Do you really think soone just wakes up one day and decides to kill witches?"
He held her gaze.
"Don’t take this freedom away from ..."
Faust bit her lip.
There was sothing in his desperate expression that made her hesitate. Like sothing that didn’t quite fit the image she had been building in her mind.
One word against another. She didn’t fully trust Angelica’s account. But at the sa ti, she couldn’t ignore it either.
Angelica had been serious that day, far more serious than she had ever seen her.
"...Sigh."
At this point, she couldn’t even keep track of how many tis she had sighed ever since eting Lancel.
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