The redheaded woman’s lips curled in disgust. Meanwhile, the three men became disordered.
“The empire’s spies, here?!”
They swiveled their necks, scanning each corner of the lounge, but there was no one there. Then, the silver-haired man snapped his fingers, and a burst of aura swept the room. For that one instant, a ripple betrayed the silhouettes of a pair of figures. It was two young men, wearing masks.
“Deal with them, Hilbert,” the red-haired woman barked.
“As you wish, my lady.”
The silver-headed man bowed, then slowly drew his sword. A flash of steel rent the air, and fresh blood splattered in the gloom.
“Jože!”
With a sound like shattering glass, the auramancy illusion was dispelled. Valdemar grabbed the bleeding Jože and dragged him back to safety, while Jože howled in pain and loosed auramancy—the third-level technique, Flame Strike—toward their aggressor, the silver-haired aura knight.
But the man known as Hilbert shot an aura-infused fist at the fiery projectile, obliterating it completely.
“What the bloody hell was that?! Jože, who is he?!”
“Damned if I know! Let us be out of here, young master!”
Jože unleashed a smoke-screen technique to cover their escape. Valdemar wasted no time in deciding upon a plan of action. Their opponent had already shown his true strength—anyone who could take auramancy like that upon their bare skin was a force to be feared.
Due to the strict security at the party, the only weapons Valdemar had been able to smuggle in were two concealed knives. Even with Jože’s arts backing him up, taking on the silver-haired aura knight in combat would be a struggle.
“Intruders! Do not let them escape!” Hilbert bellowed. Auramancy amplified his voice so that all the guards stationed around the mansion responded at once. Seeing them draw their blades, Valdemar gritted his teeth. He could take on a guard or two, no problem, but their sheer numbers posed a significant challenge.
“I will hold them off,” said Jože, while the guards moved to block their escape. “Find a way out of here!”
“I’m not leaving an injured man on his own,” Valdemar protested. “I’ll hold them off. You find a way out.”
“But you are the marquis’s heir!”
“Just get going before I lose my temper! You’re slowing me down. Go right and take out as many of the bastards as you can while you’re at it.”
“You do ask a lot of an injured man…”
Despite his protests, Jože prepared and unleashed another auramancy technique. This time, it was the fourth-level Flame Rain. Countless balls of fire rained down upon the mansion courtyard, halting the guards’ advance.
“Stay safe, young master!”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll have my fun here and be right with you.”
With that, Valdemar stopped to take stock of the guardsmen who had circumvented the burning courtyard and come round to arrest him. He drew his hidden knives, one in each hand, and unleashed his signature technique—the Over Art, Dancing Blades. The ensuing scattershot of aura blades made short work of the mansion guards advancing toward him in tight formation.
Seeing that the crowd had been thinned, Valdemar turned to make his escape, but at the last moment, he leaped back instead—just in time to avoid a streak of crimson light, an energized aura blade.
The sword’s wielder was none other than Hilbert, the silver-haired aura knight.
“Leave this man to me,” he said to his underlings, leveling his sword at Valdemar. “The rest of you, handle the one that got away.”
Valdemar clicked his tongue. The mansion was located in an affluent noble district, with wide roads and unobstructed sightlines, terrible for losing one’s pursuers. Given Jože’s wounded state, it was difficult to see how he was going to get away, but Valdemar didn’t have the liberty of going to rescue him, because the man standing opposite him had already sealed off all paths of escape.
“A man of Argyll, I see,” said Hilbert, taking stock of Valdemar’s features. “One of Auriol’s goons, are you?”
“I’d prefer to call myself an old friend,” Valdemar replied. “We were school chums, that’s all.”
Valdemar wasn’t lying, exactly, but his words caused Hilbert’s brow to furrow in displeasure. Perhaps he thought the man was toying with him.
“Why did you sneak into the party?” he asked.
“To find myself a girl. What other reason is there?”
“If you’d prefer me to extract the reason by force, then that can be arranged. Tell me, now, and your death shall be swift and merciful.”
“I’ll pass. How about I just leave and pretend I didn’t hear anything?”
“Enough. Further words are pointless, it seems.”
His patience finally worn out, Hilbert lunged. But Valdemar was just a little quicker on the draw. Slipping in close to his foe, he unleashed a double strike at point-blank range—a sucker punch of a move designed to catch his opponent off guard.
However, right before his triumphant eyes, the blades in Valdemar’s hands shattered. A spray of blood shot from his left shoulder just as he realized what Hilbert had done—he’d destroyed Valdemar’s twin swords with nothing more than his bare hands.
The searing pain twisted Valdemar’s lips into a frown, and he stepped back in retreat. He had barely managed to avoid taking a lethal blow, but a torrent of blood flowed from his wound, and it was obvious he couldn’t keep up the fight for much longer.
“A shame,” said Hilbert. “You seem good with a blade. Were you armed with a real one, things might have been different.”
“I won’t complain if you go fetch me one,” Valdemar said, smiling.
“I’d rather we ended this quickly, if you don’t mind,” Hilbert replied. “If it was a fair fight you wanted, you should have thought about that before you trespassed upon the house of my mistress.”
“I see. And here I thought the men of Registan were an honorable sort.”
At Valdemar’s provocative words, Hilbert’s eyebrow twitched. The distinctive twang of his accent and the unique basket hilt on his sword spoke volumes about the silver-haired man’s heritage. He was most likely a soldier of the Registanian military, a foreign agent sent to sow discord within the kingdom.
“I should have thought twice before employing my trusty blade,” said Hilbert in repentance. “However, I suppose it brought me to victory, as it always has.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“What?”
Hilbert seized up as, all of a sudden, he felt a surge of aura coming from directly behind him. Its source was the sixth-level auramancy technique, Fiery Blast. An enormous ball of flames materialized above his head, before crashing down to the ground and immolating all in its path.
“Bastard!” he cried.
“You’re the one who said this wasn’t going to be a fair fight,” Valdemar taunted, his lips stained with his own blood.
Jože had not fled, as he had made it seem. After dazzling the guards with his Over Arts, he had activated his stealth auramancy and remained hidden in the mansion courtyard. While Valdemar kept Hilbert distracted, Jože had spent the time charging up his technique. This impromptu combination attack, performed without prior arrangement, was the fruit of many years spent together as master and servant.
Hilbert managed to escape the flames unhurt, but by that time, Valdemar and Jože had vanished. The streets were already starting to crowd as noblemen came out of their houses to deal with the sudden fire—no doubt it had been the plan all along to disappear amid them.
Suddenly, the woman with red hair appeared in the courtyard.
“Did they manage to elude you, Hilbert?” she said. “I do hope you didn’t let them get away on purpose.”
“Of course not, my lady,” replied Hilbert, kneeling in the presence of his mistress.
The woman grinned triumphantly. “It matters not,” she said. “Whatever the empire’s flies learn now, it is far too late to stop anything, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Looking up at the glowing night sky, the woman spoke as if to somebody not present.
“Hmph. Struggle as you wish, my foolish sister. I can’t wait to see the look on your face as our glorious nation executes you like the traitor you are. What a fitting way for the Wicked Princess to meet her end.”
Her features looked like they were plucked from a painting. The silver-haired aura knight simply watched her in stone-faced silence.