At the far end of a winding, narrow alley—
"Here, here!"
The child who had been urgently tugging at Charlotte's sleeve suddenly stopped and, just seconds after sobbing loudly, fell completely silent.
"W-What's wrong? Where's your mother?"
Without answering, the child ran away from them.
"Be careful."
Dale calmly reached out his hand, stopping the startled Charlotte.
"Well, well, what do we have here!"
From beyond the shadowed stone wall at the end of the alley, a figure emerged, twirling several daggers in his hand as if to show off.
"What brings a noble young master to such a filthy place?"
One by one, hidden figures revealed themselves, surrounding the two.
'Five in total.'
One senior thief, the rest slightly below his level.
They hadn't formally learned aura techniques like knights, but they had developed their own ways to harness aura through self-taught methods.
They were strong enough to overpower two or three of the ducal house's knights.
Experience honed through countless battles in the underworld was not something to be taken lightly.
Dale calmly assessed their numbers and skill level. Charlotte, realizing the situation, placed her hand on her sword hilt.
"You'd best step aside quietly, young master."
The senior thief, Jade, spoke.
"Our target is only that little girl."
"...!"
Charlotte's expression turned cold at his words.
"I won't hand over the lady of House Orhart to scum like you."
"Ha! Such chivalry, trying to protect the lady."
Jade mocked her.
"But young master, there's a time and place for everything."
They wouldn't lay a finger on the son of House Saxen. So he should quietly walk away.
Abandon Charlotte.
That was the gist of their message.
"..."
Dale remained silent. Charlotte glanced at him. For a brief moment, she seemed to fear he might abandon her.
"I, Dale of Saxen, have sworn on the name of the ducal house to protect the lady of House Orhart."
Therefore—
"Don't worry."
"D-Dale..."
Dale smiled and replied.
"We made a promise, didn't we?"
Until her sword could reach the heart of the Holy Swordsman, Dale had promised to protect her under the name of House Saxen.
"Looks like you'll need a taste of the real world."
Jade clicked his tongue. The conversation was over.
All that remained was to act.
Subdue the ducal heir without serious injury, and capture the girl alive. Just as he was about to signal his men—
Dale raised his finger.
Mana began to swirl at his fingertips.
'Magic!'
The ducal prodigy was known for his unmatched talent in both sword and magic. Realizing this, Jade kicked off the ground before the spell could land.
The five thieves charged simultaneously, with the young boy and girl at the center.
In a fight against a mage, distance was key. And no matter how talented Dale was, he was still just a nine-year-old child. He couldn't possibly match Jade's seasoned blade.
Or so it should have been.
Whoooosh!
Just then, the wind blew.
'Wind?'
No, it wasn't wind. In this windless place, Dale's cloak began to flutter wildly.
One of the men, not understanding the meaning, rushed toward Dale.
"Get back, you fools!"
Jade felt a chill run down his spine and stepped back.
Shhhk!
From beneath Dale's feet, a blade of shadow shot upward. A pitch-black spike aimed at the neck of the man charging from behind.
Right through the throat.
"Guh, guh!"
Splat!
Blood sprayed everywhere.
"That's four down."
Dale muttered without even glancing, his voice devoid of emotion.
Shadow Blade—Form One of Dale's artifact, the Shadow Cloak.
But that wasn't all.
Dale snapped his fingers toward the corpse pierced through the throat.
Using the blade as a conduit, dark mana surged forward.
Crack.
The body twisted at an impossible angle. Then the corpse began to vomit.
"Ugh, uuuugh!"
From the throat, all kinds of internal organs spilled out.
Heart, intestines, lungs, stomach, rectum… useless remnants of life.
And into the hollowed-out body, a shadow from Dale's cloak slithered through the throat.
Like a living snake. Escaping the shadow beneath his feet to form a new, independent entity.
Form Two of the Shadow Cloak.
"Screeeeeech!"
Shadow Parasite.
"Hungry, hungry, hungryyy!"
The voice that had echoed in Dale's ears now poured out through the corpse's vocal cords.
Crack!
With no need to protect its organs, part of the ribcage burst from the corpse's hand like a blade.
A gleaming Bone Sword.
Recalling the basics of necromancy taught by his father, Dale combined the cloak's malice with a new undead creation. The Shadow Soldier kicked off the ground.
No need for commands. It moved, driven by hunger and the will of darkness rooted in the corpse.
Dale's cloak continued to flutter in the still air.
No one could approach easily.
"Stop that corpse!"
Jade ordered his men, then readied his blade again.
This was no time to go easy on the ducal heir.
Whatever consequences the organization might impose later didn't matter. One misstep here and he'd lose his head.
──Could this really be the "realm of talent" a nine-year-old could reach? Impossible. Jade, who had risked his life in the underworld for years, knew instinctively.
The techniques Dale was using now—
They couldn't be explained by his status as a ducal prodigy or the son of the Tower Master.
This was something darker, more vicious, and utterly devoid of nobility—pure evil.
"You * monster..."
Jade gripped his blade and charged again. Using aura to circulate through his body, he surpassed human limits with divine speed.
As he kicked off, his daggers scattered in a fan shape.
But countless black shadows rose from the ground like shields, intercepting his blades.
'This is my chance!'
The number of shadow blades must depend on mana. No matter how talented Dale was, he had just used a lot of mana to defend.
Taaat!
Jade dashed forward, dodging the spikes rising from the ground.
He scattered more daggers to force Dale's cloak into defense again.
The distance closed in an instant.
"──."
At Dale's fingertips, cold elemental energy gathered.
But even if a bolt spell was fired point-blank, Jade was confident he could dodge it.
For seasoned assassins, dodging a no-incantation bolt at close range wasn't difficult.
Even a reinforced bolt spell couldn't match the destructive power or speed of a real arrow.
At least, that's what he thought about "bolt magic."
"Double Barrel · 12-gauge 00 buckshot."
Until Dale uttered incomprehensible "otherworldly words."
Ice crystallized at Dale's fingertips, and Jade focused his senses to read the trajectory.
But when the large ice chunk shattered and scattered into nine ice pellets—
"...?!"
Dodging the spread of shotgun-style ice bullets was nearly impossible.
Even as countless shards pierced his body, Jade didn't retreat easily.
Through the pain of torn flesh and crushed organs, he gritted his teeth.
'Not yet, not yet...!'
'Not yet.'
He had reinforced his body with aura, and Dale's Ice Bullet couldn't match the stopping power of a real firearm.
Barely avoiding fatal wounds, Jade moved his legs through the agony of burning organs and blood loss.
The distance closed again.
Point-blank range.
'I've won!'
Confident of victory, Jade gripped his blade. He never imagined what Dale had meant by "Double Barrel."
Two barrels.
To understand Dale's "otherworldly words," one would have to interpret it like this:
──Memorize (Spell Loading).
Bang!
At the last moment, another 12-gauge buckshot burst from Dale's fingertips, scattering into ice pellets.
'You * monster...'
No human form remained.
But the fight wasn't over. No, it couldn't even be called a fight—it was a massacre.
"Hungry, hungry, hungryyy!"
The Shadow Soldier swung its bone blades like claws.
When the white blade tore into a man's abdomen, his organs spilled out through the gap.
Ignoring the screams behind him, Dale turned his head.
Without glancing at the carnage, he looked at Charlotte, whose legs trembled beside him.
"First time seeing someone die?"
Especially someone dying so horrifically.
"...Yeah."
Charlotte nodded hesitantly, her face pale with fear.
Dale's full power—far beyond what he showed in their duel with a stiletto.
She hadn't even drawn her rapier.
She felt pathetic and ashamed of her helplessness.
"Ice Bullet."
Dale aimed his finger again.
One man tried to flee without looking back. Dale's condensed ice shot toward his ankle.
Bang!
With a scream, the man's ankle vanished, and he collapsed into the gutter.
"N-No, stay back, stay back...!"
Just as the Shadow Soldier approached to finish him—
"Return."
Dale snapped his fingers.
"Screeeeeech!"
The corpse screamed and exploded. The shadow that had inhabited it returned to Dale's feet.
Dale walked toward the man who could no longer move.
"S-Save me! I'll tell you everything I know!"
"What you know?"
"Y-Yeah! I'll tell you everything! Just please spare me...!"
Dale tilted his head.
"You have nothing worth telling me."
His eyes were dark and cold.
"I don't even care to know."
His voice was emotionless.
"So why should I spare you?"
Tilting his head, Dale answered. He aimed his finger again.
"You * monster...!"
That word again.
Bang!
And with that, no scream followed. The mouth that could scream was gone.
"This is..."
After a long silence, Dale turned to Charlotte.
"The true face of House Saxen that people fear."
He used the ducal house's infamy to justify his actions.
"And the power of the house that will protect you, as promised."
"..."
Charlotte quietly bit her lip at those words.
"Scared?"
"...Yeah, a little."
Charlotte nodded. Her legs still trembled.
"...But you fought to protect me."
Yet Charlotte smiled softly, pushing past her fear. With quiet resolve.
"Thank you."
She said. No matter how scared she was, she would never call Dale a monster.
"You said you were buying my future."
Dale nodded silently.
"You were wrong."
Wrong? Dale tilted his head, not understanding.
"You gave me a future."
Charlotte smiled bitterly.
"To someone like me who knew nothing of reality."
Leaving behind the blood-soaked scene—
"A future where I can protect House Orhart with my sword."
She had thought there was only despair. Even if protected by House Saxen, nothing would change.
She was wrong.
Now that she understood her true reality, Charlotte grasped the weight of Dale's words.
That day, Dale gave her something incomparable—hope. The hope that she could protect what she loved with her own sword.
"..."
"So I'll become your sword."
Shing.
Charlotte drew her rapier and continued.
"I'll train even harder."
Even if she could only be protected for now—
"Until the day I can wield my sword for you."
"...You're reliable."
Dale smiled quietly at her words.
He thought he had no sense of debt toward Sir Vardel. Taking her in was purely for his and the ducal house's benefit.
But he was wrong.
Her decision to become "Dale's sword" of her own will meant more than he had imagined.
After the situation was resolved, a messenger from House Saxen delivered a letter to Count Brandenburg.
A letter bearing the name and signature of Duke Saxen himself.
'I expect this will be a difficult visit, but I would like to invite you to Saxen Castle.'
Polite, yet filled with undeniable pressure.
'Please do not refuse, for the sake of our goodwill.'
It wasn't hard to grasp the situation.
The plan to kidnap the daughter of the Divine Sword had failed—that was no longer the issue. His agent who contacted the Sif Guild had recently gone missing.
"Those * fools ruined everything...!"
Summoned by the Black Duke to answer for the disaster. It was like walking into a death trap.
But under the pressure of the Empire's greatest noble, even the Holy Swordsman had no choice.