In the Rain (1)
The door creaked open with a heavy thud.
They must have only planned to warm their bodies with a drink before leaving. The three men emptied their cups the moment the liquor arrived and immediately headed out of the inn.
I reflexively rose from my seat, then froze.
If I follow them…
I would undoubtedly be torn apart.
If they were truly members of Angel's Breath, this frail body could never hope to face them. Perhaps if it were one-on-one, but three at once? Impossible.
Then take this chance to think it over carefully. Why I’m doing this.
Ian’s voice suddenly echoed in my ear like a ringing bell.
“Here, the bill.”
My reason tried to hold me back, but my body had long since slipped beyond its control.
I grabbed whatever coins were in my pocket, tossed them onto the table, and bolted outside.
The rain was still pouring down on the streets.
“The rain’s gotten even heavier.”
The man in the black mask fiddled with his hands.
On a night like this, tracking a target became twice as difficult. The rainwater washed away every trace.
“But I’ve been feeling like someone’s been following us for a while now.”
“I felt it too. What should we do, Greg?”
The man called Greg slowly turned his head.
His two subordinates were staring at him intently, as if waiting for his command.
“…They aren’t even trying to hide their presence.”
The presence that had been trailing them since earlier was now approaching with ferocious momentum.
“Should we wait for them?”
“We don’t even know who it is…”
“Judging by how they don’t even know how to conceal their presence, it must be some amateur.”
Greg replied while looking at the muddy ground.
“Besides, in this weather, they won’t be able to move properly anyway.”
As if on cue, the bridge in the direction they were heading had collapsed. The small stream beneath it had swollen massively from the rain. Crossing it recklessly on horseback would be extremely dangerous.
Shhhhhhh.
The three men stayed put, listening to the roar of the rushing water.
Before long, the owner of the presence that had been following them revealed themselves.
“…This is rather unexpected.”
Greg stared at the figure who had stopped about twenty paces away.
The unidentified person, hood pulled low, jumped down from their horse as if the muddy ground beneath them was of no concern.
In the process, the rain-soaked hood slipped off.
“To think a woman would be the one tailing us.”
Faded brown hair clung to her forehead and cheeks. Her knuckles were deathly pale, in stark contrast to her flushed face. The woman was breathing harshly, as if she might collapse at any moment.
Yet even through the torrential rain, her eyes gleamed with a piercing light. Those eerie green eyes were so vivid they seemed burned into the mind.
“Hah! A woman, of all things. She must have lost her fear.”
One of the subordinates snorted the moment he realized their pursuer was female and raised his voice.
“Who are you? You’ve been following us since earlier. Do you have some business with us?”
The woman gave no answer.
She seemed to be catching her breath, then suddenly asked a question of her own.
“Are you from Angel's Breath?”
Her voice was so small it was nearly swallowed by the rain. But none of those present failed to hear it.
The masked men’s eyes wavered.
How does this woman know about Angel’s Breath?
They exchanged silent glances.
The woman who had suddenly appeared was neither their target nor anyone connected to their current commission. But now that she knew their identity, they couldn’t possibly let her live.
Swish.
In the blink of an eye, one of the men hurled a dagger at her.
But he did not achieve his desire.
“What the…”
The man’s eyes widened in shock.
The woman he had meant to kill had caught the flying dagger with her bare hand.
“Angel's Breath,”
the woman said slowly, reversing her grip on the dagger. Its blade now pointed toward the men.
“I heard it had already been destroyed. So who are you?”
Raindrops fell from her long lashes. Her face looked so pitiful, as if she were crying. Though the look in her eyes was impossibly murderous.
“I suggest you don’t bother denying it. I’m asking because I already know.”
Just how did this woman know about Angel's Breath?
Greg, standing at the very back, opened his mouth with a confused expression.
“I don’t know how much you know, but…”
In truth, even if his subordinate’s blade had missed and the woman survived, he had been willing to overlook it just moments ago. He still had that much meager mercy left in him.
But not anymore.
“If you already know everything, then we can’t just let you go.”
Greg gave a small nod to the subordinates on either side of him.
They simultaneously leaped down from their horses.
Splash.
Even on the drenched ground, their movements were flawless. The highly trained assassins reached out toward the woman.
Or rather, they tried to.
“Huh?”
One of them blinked at the dagger now embedded in his forehead. It was the very same one he had thrown at the woman earlier.
In an instant, his vision turned crimson.
“What is this…”
The other man who had charged alongside him froze at the sight of his fallen comrade, unable to even scream. An ominous premonition swept over his entire body.
“You.”
The man frowned as he looked at the woman standing calmly.
“You’re no ordinary woman.”
Once again, the woman did not answer.
She simply stared straight ahead with eyes as cold as ice.
What did I just see?
Meanwhile, Greg, still seated on his horse, furrowed his brow. He recalled the scene he had just witnessed.
The dagger’s trajectory definitely changed mid-flight.
His subordinate was not so incompetent that he couldn’t dodge a dagger flying straight at him. In fact, he had noticed the woman throwing it and deliberately moved into her blind spot.
But how could you change the direction of a blade that had already left the hand?
Unless she had used magic.
Greg’s expression grew even more serious.
“Tsk.”
The remaining subordinate quickly retreated to Greg’s side.
He spoke rapidly while staying on full alert.
“Greg, that woman seems to be one of our kind. And she looks stronger than I expected.”
“…I think so too.”
He had been curious who the madman chasing them so frantically in this weather could be.
So it was one of their own after all.
But as far as I know, there isn’t a single female assassin with that level of skill.
Well, there had been one once.
The assassin guild’s first female leader, the one known as the Silver Thread Death God—Kayla Angel.
But that was already a year ago.
Kayla Angel is dead.
Greg had not been part of Angel's Breath at the time. He hadn’t seen her death with his own eyes, but he had heard it was incredibly gruesome. The one who killed her had burned her body so thoroughly that not even a corpse remained.
“…Well, that’s not important right now.”
With a face as cold as ice, Greg drew the wide blade strapped to his back.
“What a shame. Now I have one more reason to kill you.”
If she was skilled enough to eliminate an organization member in a single strike, it would be better to deal with her decisively here. Moreover, the woman seemed to harbor an intense grudge against Angel's Breath. Leaving her alive would surely bring trouble later.
“Yes, I figured you’d react that way.”
On the other hand, the woman didn’t look the least bit afraid even as the burly assassins directed their killing intent toward her.
She struggled to curl her lips, frozen stiff from the cold rain. Her white teeth flashed like those of a wild beast.
“Let’s say the one who captures the other first takes everything.”
Whether it was money, information, or their lives.
The woman placed one foot on the body of the dead assassin, slightly lifting her soaked skirt. She drew two daggers that had been hidden between her boots.
Clear rainwater trickled down the silver blades.
“Greg, I’ll go first—”
“You talk too much.”
The man’s eyes widened at the chilling voice that suddenly rang beside his ear.
Before he knew it, the woman had closed the distance and was swinging a dagger at him.
“Since when do assassins talk before they strike?”
“Krrgh!”
Clang!
The man groaned as he was pushed back several steps. Despite being far smaller than him, the power behind her blade was considerable.
“Damn it!”
But no matter what, she was still just a woman. In terms of strength, size, and weight, she was overwhelmingly at a disadvantage.
The man spat out a curse and shoved her away with all his might.
“Huh?”
But there was no one in front of him anymore.
A bewildered voice came from above the confused man’s head.
“Now that I think about it.”
When had she jumped again? To move like this in this pouring rain. And more importantly, why couldn’t he move a single muscle right now?
The man twitched his fingertips, his mind racing with various thoughts.
“I think one mouth is enough to answer questions.”
At the woman’s words, the man’s eyes gradually widened. He finally realized that his head had already been severed from his body.
“Don’t you think?”
The woman stepped past the now-dead man and approached Greg.
This is dangerous.
Greg bit his dry lips.
The previous strike had confirmed it. The woman before him was far stronger than he was.
Then there was only one choice left.
Hiiiiing!
The horse’s whinny cut through the sound of rain.
Greg yanked the reins, attempting to flee.
“If you were going to run, you should have done it sooner.”
A mocking voice lingered in his ear.
At the same time, the horse Greg was riding crashed to the ground.
“Ugh!”
Thrown from his mount, Greg clutched his arm and gasped for breath. The horse with a dagger embedded in its hindquarters had already fled into the distance.
“From the looks of it, you seem to be the leader of these men.”
The woman pressed her foot firmly against Greg’s chest as he tried to stand.
The gaze looking down at him was as cold as ice, yet within it burned a heat like molten lava.
“Speak.”
The green-eyed woman asked in a small but clear voice.
“What happened to Angel's Breath?”