"I can finally enjoy torturing you."
Null met his gaze, his expression unchanging. A faint, almost imperceptible sneer touched his lips. "Try as much as you like. But understand—you are unworthy to evoke 'pain or despair' within me."
Glo's grin twitched. Then widened, "We'll see, weakling."
Then, he struck. The dagger buried itself deep into Null's thigh with a sickening THUK, unleashing a thick torrent of warm blood.
Leaning over his victim, Glo stared into Null's eyes with ravenous desperation, waiting for the inevitable scream of anguish.
To his utter disbelief, Null didn't flinch. His expression remained unchanged—not a single sign of struggle, not a whisper of pain. There was no tension in his muscles, no resistance in his posture. He was terrifyingly detached, and almost… amused.
Something inside Glo broke. "You—" he choked out, his voice trembling. "What the hell are you—"
Then—he lost it. Completely.
The dagger rose and fell in a blur, striking again and again. He was stabbing, cutting, carving, and ripping in an uncontrolled, unhinged frenzy. Steel tore into flesh repeatedly—across Null's arms, his torso, his sides—with every frantic thrust producing visceral, bloody impacts. Glo had become a manic storm of slashes, driven by a desperate need to inflict pain.
Blood soaked the ground. For two agonizing minutes, the relentless violence continued unabated, and yet absolutely nothing changed. There was no scream, no struggle, and no reaction. Null remained disturbingly unfazed. He simply wore a faint, terrifying smile, observing the desperate display like a detached spectator.
Staggering back, Glo gasped for breath, his eyes wide with a new kind of terror. "Impossible…" he whispered, his voice cracking as his blood-soaked hands began to shake. "Impossible… impossible…! Are you even human?!"
Glo's terror was entirely justifiable. A human being—no matter how absurd their pain tolerance—would show some micro-expression of endurance under such butchery. But Null acted completely devoid of the concept of pain. He was, by definition, inhuman.
In the quiet that followed, Null spoke with an unsettling, gentle calmness.
"Human?" He tilted his head slightly. "I am one. At least, I think I am."
Glo paralyzed. "What do you mean?" The implications triggered a sudden, primal wave of dread.
"As I told you, you cannot force pain or despair out of me," Null explained, "For that matter, I don't feel any emotions whatsoever. They don't exist in me naturally."
"In fact, my entire life. I've only been emulating emotions. Whether during my interactions with you, or with my so-called teammates from before, I simply emulated what I wanted to feel in those moments."
Null paused for a brief breath. "I am trapped in a permanent condition known as Unemotionality. That's what a certain bag of bones in a white coat called it, anyway. Therefore, I am incapable of suffering right now, because I consciously chose not to emulate the negative emotions you are starving to see."
"Normally, I wouldn't stop emulating emotions. Not even pain or despair. To keep myself... as human as possible." A cold, deliberate pause. "But you… you're just a broken psychopath who indulges in violent activities. So I decided to deprive you of that satisfaction by pausing the emulation of pain, despair and other negative emotions."
When a faint, subtle curve traced Null's lips, Glo went rigid. The clinical detachment of Null's reality was more horrifying than any void; it was fundamentally wrong.
"Oh," A slight tilt of his head, "one more thing."
"This doesn't mean I can't feel True Emotions; in fact, I've been indulging in them quite a lot recently. Hehe… thanks to a certain new girlfriend of mine, and before that, a certain yandere." He gave a small shrug. "But that's a mystery for another time."
As oppressive, heavy silence choked the clearing. Null's words twisted deep into Glo's psyche.
"So," Null concluded, "there's really no point in dragging this out. Just kill me and be done, you half-baked assassin."
The invitation struck Glo like a physical blow, sending a shudder. "You… you monster!" Clenching his teeth, Glo briefly ripped his eyes away. "I should've taken the task of hunting down your friends instead of dealing with an inhuman devil like you."
A subtle smile touched Null's bloody lips. "Your loss. Still, I have to say, you and your partner are interesting characters. If possible… I wouldn't mind a rematch in the future."
"As if," Glo spat, his grip locking around the hilt of his dagger. "Like I'd ever let you live. I admit your inhuman nature, but that doesn't mean I won't kill you. You were our real target from the start—even if this ends up being the most unsatisfying kill of my life."
Null choked out a rough, ragged cough, blood staining his chin. Yet, through the wheezing breaths, his amusement remained sharp and completely unbroken.
"Be my guest."
---
Nubrus moved through the woodland like a silent blade. Branches didn't rustle; leaves didn't stir. Pushing his agility to its absolute limit, he maintained his Erased Presence at maximum output.
His thoughts were singular and relentless: intercept them.
If Ronan and the rest reached the main road, the mission would fall apart. They weren't just survivors; they were witnesses to an assassination attempt on a member of the Divine Sanctum. For the Obsidian Veil, leaving a witness or even a whisper of a trace was unacceptable. Their organization existed on one primary code: Leave no trace.
Yet, that perfection was slipping.
If the novices reached the trade road, a quiet elimination would become impossible. The road was crowded with caravans, merchants, and guards. Too many variables. Too many eyes. A clean strike under those conditions was a fantasy, and turning a stealthy hit into a loud public incident meant leaving behind evidence.
The cold reality pressed in. The target's single anomaly had bought the team a four-minute delay—more than enough time for desperate rookies to burst from the treeline and reach safety.
A bad feeling lingered
Nubrus already knew the outcome, Cold reasoning left no room for hope. but he didn't stop. A true assassin required confirmation.
Besides, this was their first real assignment with meaningful stakes. For Glo and himself, killing the target was just the baseline; the true trial was executing a flawless erasure against a target tied to a central superpower like the Divine Sanctum. A step toward becoming true assassins.
And right now, that step was faltering.
Moments later, he reached the edge of the woods. Bypassing the ground, he ascended a tall tree to observe from above.
Below him, the main road stretched wide and alive. Caravans passed and voices overlapped in a patternless hum. Nubrus scanned the crowd once, twice, a third time.
Nothing. No familiar silhouettes. No trace of them. They had already vanished into the world beyond his reach.
A quiet, empty breath left him. "So it's confirmed. We failed."
The words carried no frustration, only conclusion. The true clear condition of the trial was broken. An unpleasant thought surfaced: Glo. If his partner hadn't indulged his ego and had simply acted efficiently, they might have succeeded—.
But Nubrus dismissed the thought just as quickly, turning his cold logic inward. 'My fault as well.'
He had known Glo's volatile nature and chose to adapt around it rather than correct it. Cold rationality meant nothing—if it didn't dictate action. In that moment, he hadn't acted as a true assassin either.
He felt the heavy weight of his master's inevitable disappointment.
"Tch," Nubrus exhaled quietly. "What's done is done. At least the basic condition is executed"
The target would be dead. Glo would ensure that much.
"We leave before the Regulators arrive," he murmured, turning back toward the clearing. Staying any longer would only deepen their failure.
...
When he stepped back into the clearing and deactivated his stealth, the aftermath was waiting for him. His gaze landed on the body.
Null lay pinned to the dirt, a dagger driven straight through his heart. The corpse was unrecognizable, mutilated far beyond a clean kill.
Even Nubrus paused.
...Excessive.
"You were that irritated."
Glo stood a few paces away. His breathing had slowed, but his expression was entirely sour.
"We failed the trial's true clear condition," Nubrus stated flatly.
Glo clicked his tongue, his tone sharp with lingering annoyance. "I see. Tch."
Nubrus studied him. "Did something happen? You seem... unusually displeased."
"Didn't I tell you not to order me around?" Glo snapped, jabbing a glare his way.
Nubrus didn't flinch or argue, simply waiting in unmoving silence.
Glo spat on the ground and looked away. "I just had the worst kill of my life. Of course I'm in a bad mood." His jaw tightened as he stared at the dirt. "I never thought I'd run into someone like this. A monstrosity beyond comprehension."
"Damn it... I should have never accepted this test."
Nubrus looked back at the corpse. A monstrosity? For Glo to use that meant something entirely wrong had transpired in his absence. But the target was dead, and that was the only thing that truly mattered now.
Nubrus shook the thought away, refocusing. He met Glo's eyes in a silent, mutual understanding.
"Let's finish and proceed."
Nubrus reached into his cloak and pulled out a small bronze container. Inside, a tiny, dark violet spark danced behind the glass an «Obsidian Cinder» It was a unique tool of obsidian veil, designed solely for evidence erasure.
He uncorked the vial and tilted it, letting the spark drop silently onto Null's chest.
For a heartbeat, the clearing was still. Then, the spark ignited. Soundless, lightless, violet flames erupted across the body, hungrily consuming the flesh.
"Target assassination complete," Nubrus said calmly. "Let's go."
Glo nodded once. Their presences collapsed into the shadows as they vanished into the forest.
-
Behind them, the silent blaze intensified.
The unseen inferno engulfed the clearing, thoroughly erasing the bodies, the blood, the weapons, and every trace of lingering mana signatures.
Then, just as suddenly, the violet flames vanished.
The clearing remained pristine and untouched. There were no scorch marks, no bloodstains, and no evidence. The quiet woodland stood entirely empty, as if nothing had ever happened, and as if no one had ever died there.