In the assassin's slender hand was a strangely curved short sword, its edge weeping a steady trail of fresh blood.
Ayanokoji's eyes moved over her with a predatory stillness, dissecting her posture, her grip, and the way she breathed. Even without a baseline for magic, he could feel the suffocating pressure of her killing intent. She wasn't just a threat; she was a natural disaster in human form.
"That's... that's the client who hired me!"
Felt let out a strangled cry. The woman on the screen was the same one who had commissioned the theft of the insignia. Felt had met her in the shadows of the slums, but her instincts—usually her greatest survival tool—had failed to warn her that the beautiful woman was a monster. A cold, sinking dread settled in Felt's stomach.
Inside the Royal Palace, Reinhard van Astrea stared at the sky. His brows furrowed, his usually calm expression hardening into one of absolute gravity. The black attire, the midnight hair, and the distinct curved blades of the North... he knew that silhouette.
"Master Reinhard, do you recognize her?" a nearby knight asked, hand on his sword hilt.
"That gear and those movements... there is no doubt. She is the infamous assassin known as the 'Bowel Hunter,'" Reinhard said softly. "She earned that name through her obsession with disemboweling her victims. She is a calamity-class threat."
He fell into a brief silence, tapping his chin. Why is she here? Why target Lady Emilia? He didn't waste time pondering the 'why' for long. He turned to his subordinates. "Whether these visions are truth or illusion, Lady Emilia—a Royal Candidate—is in imminent danger. I am going to find her immediately! The Bowel Hunter is likely already within the capital. Alert the guard; start a sweep of the city now!"
"You look like an ordinary person, yet you possess such extraordinary reflexes. You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Elsa purred, spinning her kukri blade as if it were an extension of her own fingers. Her heavy, suggestive gaze settled on Ayanokoji. "I think you'll provide me with a great deal of entertainment. As a reward, I'll give you my name: Elsa Granhiert, the Bowel Hunter."
"Kiyotaka Ayanokoji," he replied flatly. His amber eyes remained locked on her. 'Her initial strike was beyond human limits. High-level training. She's holding a single blade, but her clothing likely conceals several more. Winning this...' He scanned the room. 'I lack a weapon. In a fight against an armed professional, that is the most critical disadvantage.' His eyes landed on the jagged ice shards Emilia had left behind.
"The best dishes should be saved for last," Elsa said, pressing the cold steel of her blade against her lips, her reflection warped in the metal. She glanced back at Felt and Rom like a diner eyeing a light appetizer. "I'll start with the sweets first..."
"You monster!" Rom roared, shoving the terrified Felt behind him. He snatched his spiked mace from the floor. The moment his eyes met Elsa's, the giant felt a chill that surpassed any winter gale. It was pure, unadulterated killing intent.
"Felt, run!" Rom knew they were marked for death. He swung the massive mace with everything he had. The floorboards shattered under the impact, sending a cloud of dust and splinters into the air.
Rom's breathing was heavy, his chest heaving as he stared into the haze. Had he hit her?
"Such terrifying power," a voice whispered. As the dust cleared, Elsa appeared—standing atop the head of the mace. Her heels clicked sharply on the metal as she walked toward the giant. "My first time fighting a Giant-kin. I've been looking forward to this."
"ARRGH!" Rom screamed, trying to shake her off. To his monstrous strength, she should have weighed no more than a feather. But Elsa leaped into the air, spinning like a dark waltz, her blade trailing a silver arc of light.
In a flash, she was behind him. A wet schlick echoed through the room. Rom's stomach opened, a fountain of blood erupting from the massive wound. The giant's life vanished in a heartbeat. His body fell like a collapsing mountain, shaking the entire building.
"Old Man Rom!" Seeing the man she considered her grandfather slaughtered, Felt didn't run. She drew her hidden dagger and lunged with a desperate, sobbing scream. But a slum thief with no formal training was nothing to a master killer. With a single, effortless turn, Elsa's blade carved through Felt's small frame. The girl collapsed into the growing pool of red, her scarf soaked in her own lifeblood.
OLD MAN ROM AND FELT: DECEASED.
"No!"
In the real slums, Rom instinctively reached out and covered Felt's eyes, trying to shield her from the sight of their own brutal deaths. But Felt had already seen it.
"She... she killed us," Felt whispered, staring at the sky. The scene felt like a nightmare—vivid, visceral, and terrifyingly real. For the first time in her life, the girl who lived for the future was faced with the absolute end of it.