Roarrr!
There were a few drowned corpses alongside the human-faced dogs and ghouls.
Could these drowned corpses be fresh ones?
It was entirely possible, given that there had been heavy rains a few days ago that might have killed them.
Monsters, whether just an hour old or a week old, wouldn't care much about such things.
While some can become more dangerous with age, none of them are ever like helpless infants toddling around. So whether they were newly formed or not didn't matter.
What mattered was their numbers.
"There's a lot."
It was the whip escort who spoke. Yes, there were a lot.
The sheer number was a problem, but so was the variety.
Among the three types of monsters ahead, there were also more dangerous beasts that caught the eye.
Usually, beasts are less dangerous than monsters, but there are always exceptions.
The easiest example is the bear beast.
Even when a bear isn't a beast, it's a dangerous animal.
Naturally, when it becomes a beast, it's even more threatening and dangerous.
Two of these easiest examples were raising their heads among the monsters. One of them had a head noticeably larger than the other.
Grrrrrrrr.
Drooling, with eyes bloodshot, the bear beast stood out vividly.
Rem, seeing this, spoke.
"That's a friend of the religious freaks."
"Seems so."
Ragna replied.
If Audin had heard, it would've been his usual chance to smile kindly and ask if they wanted to stand beside his God.
But the bear was different from Audin.
It didn't smile.
Roaarrrr!
Instead, it beat its chest and roared.
The sound reverberated through their entire bodies. It was a roar that momentarily paralyzed its prey.
It seemed like the signal for something.
"They're coming."
Dunbachel said, and the monsters surged forward like a wave. They began to charge.
The human-faced dogs pushed off the ground, dirtying their bellies with mud.
The drowned corpses flailed their arms, running toward them. The ghouls stretched out their hands as if showing off their claws, then clawed at the ground, pulling themselves forward with force.
Their numbers easily exceeded a hundred.
With every move of the monstrous horde and the bear beast, the ground trembled underfoot.
If the people here were ordinary, they wouldn't just be in trouble but facing death.
It was a terrifying scene, enough to make anyone freeze in fear.
However, the humans gathered here were far from ordinary.
If they were prey, they would have been frozen by the bear's roar, but these were people completely free of fear.
No one here would be paralyzed by the sight of that beast.
Whump, crack!
A streak of light flew into the head of the charging bear beast. It was a thrown axe.
The roaring creature let out a weak, whimpering sound from its snout.
Its head snapped backward, but the powerful neck muscles prevented it from being completely torn off. Still, the result didn't change.
The bear, now adorned with an axe embedded in its head, began to lose its momentum and tumbled forward.
Several human-faced dogs nearby were crushed under the bear beast's body.
Yelp!
A shriek burst from one of the dogs.
That was the end of it. The only creature that might survive with its head split open would be a hydra.
After all, it has multiple heads.
Of course, even Encrid had never seen a hydra in person.
The bear beast, with its head split vertically, was destined to die.
"Ah, that was mine!"
Dunbachel grumbled in frustration.
Roarrr!
The distinctive scream of a ghoul echoed loudly.
With indifferent movements, Ragna and Jaxon cut through the heads and limbs of the ghouls as if pulling out weeds.
Their motions were fluid and minimal.
They minimized their steps and cut down every enemy that came within their reach.
Encrid joined in as well.
It's said that normally it takes three well-trained spearmen to deal with a single ghoul.
If well-trained, a soldier could take one down alone.
But even if a thousand of these came, Encrid would survive.
'As long as I keep striking and retreating.'
If you're alone, that's one way to do it. But what about while escorting Krang? You could fight while carrying him, no problem.
However, this time, he wasn't alone. He was with his company. There was no need to evade. They charged forward.
Striking, killing, and slicing through in a flash.
The black blood of the monsters soaked the rain-drenched ground.
"Monster tossing, huh."
Jaxon said after the chaos had settled.
He was suggesting that someone had driven the monsters toward them and unleashed them here.
Monster tossing, pushing, launching—it's a famous tactic known by many names.
"This isn't the end."
Jaxon said, wiping his sword with a cloth before discarding it on the ground.
At least, that's how it looked to him.
It wasn't just that someone was neglecting or luring monsters toward the territory, sending a group like this deliberately required skill. These were no amateurs.
"Let them come, as many as they want."
Dunbachel said, puffing out her chest. Monsters were no threat.
Even the human-faced dogs rushing at her, their mouths drooling, didn't faze her. She kicked one in the head.
There were more than five dogs with their heads split open around his wild horse.
Neigh.
Odd-Eyed horse shook its head and snorted, unconcerned.
"More dirty tricks are sure to follow."
Jaxon continued, his tone resolute. His words were a mix of speculation and prediction. It was a natural assumption.
They'd been through this countless times before.
Though not in defense, but rather in offense.
'Have they gathered?'
It couldn't be just one or two guilds in motion. The scale was too large for that.
There were certainly assassination guilds in Naurillia as well.
Had they all gathered together to form some kind of alliance?
It was a simple guess, but he felt certain.
A scheme of this size, with the audacity to target the Royal Family of a nation, wasn't the work of just one guild.
'Why have they gathered?'
He arrived at a conclusion through a few assumptions and deductions.
The client needed dogs, and the one chosen as the hound decided it was better to share the spoils and survive together than die alone.
Jaxon's guess was almost perfect.
In fact, that's exactly how things were playing out.
* * *
In Aspen, most of the assassin guilds were controlled by the Montaire's Swamp Guild, but not in Naurillia.
Here, they competed and coexisted.
And there were quite a few of them.
The internal political situation was complicated, with wars erupting here and there over the past few years. Some nobles had even taken advantage of this chaos to form their own guilds.
There were also those who took jobs from commoners, offering their skills in killing for hire.
Twelve guilds had survived for a long time in this ecosystem.
And now, those who had each been maintaining their own guilds had gathered to form an alliance called the 'Twelve Blades'.
"We hired dozens of mercenaries and even sent our own people, but they all failed."
"Because they were up against that Madmen Company."
Assassin guilds are naturally sensitive to information. It was no surprise they had quickly realized what was going on as soon as it happened.
They had gathered in a mansion in the city closest to the Capital, a place they had fortified and secured well.
"Are we going to just let this slide?"
"We all know what a failed contract means."
Among the 'Twelve Blades', there was always a leader with the most influence. The woman, who had led the largest faction before the alliance, spoke to everyone.
"We need to do everything we can."
Failure meant death.
The client was inside the Royal Palace. Failure or surrender would both lead to the same outcome.
To survive, there were only two options:
Abandon everything and run.
'Or succeed.'
She, along with the other guild leaders, naturally dreamt of the rewards that would follow.
Abandoning their established power base to flee? Not a chance.
If they had to, they'd take the risk and ensure success.
After all, the ruler of the country was about to change.
Naturally, there would be rewards for those who contributed to that.
They couldn't just throw everything away now, not after coming this far. They'd set aside their pride and united completely.
With everyone on the same page, the woman continued.
"We're up against those who've made names for themselves on the battlefield. Beating them in a direct fight is out of the question. Let's fight on our stage, using our methods."
"Exactly."
The man who had become her lover was the first to respond.
"That's obvious."
Even the other guild leaders, some of whom were jealous of her, nodded in agreement.
They took action accordingly, moving in their own way. Their opponents wouldn't know all the tricks of the assassins, so they'd fall for them at least once.
And once was all it would take.
After all, even if some of them had experience hunting bounties, they wouldn't be able to predict the carefully laid traps of trained assassins.
Their foes had survived battlefields, yes.
But this was different.
Their judgment was clear.
* * *
"Help me, please!"
A voice called out as they traveled along the road.
A young man, barely out of his teens, lay sprawled on the ground. He appeared to be caught in a trap.
He was bleeding heavily from the ground beneath him, and when he spotted Encrid's group, he desperately began to plead.
"Please help me! My father is a landowner who oversees tenant farmers! I will repay you, I swear!"
He spoke through a flood of tears.
"How did you end up like this?"
Jaxon asked, stepping forward before Encrid could.
His tone was different than usual. It was like when he imitated Krais. He was pretending to be kind and friendly.
"Well, I was on my way to sell wheat, and when I woke up..."
The young man didn't even seem to know how it happened.
"Should we help him?"
The whip escort asked. He wanted to move past quickly, sensing something was off.
Encrid looked at the young man caught in the trap. He seemed genuine.
"Please, please... Dabal..."
Tears and snot poured from his face as he continued to speak.
His last words were slurred, as if he had bitten his tongue.
"It's a trap. Looks like they've set up several around him."
Jaxon said as his gaze scanned the area around the young man.
The ground sagged in places, and there was a faint poisonous smell in the air, tickling their noses.
"If we leave him, will he die?"
"He'll die. That's what the trap was set for."
It was a trap they could simply ignore, but that's exactly what the enemy wanted.
"If we ignore it, they'll claim we killed him."
"A double trap, huh?"
Encrid asked, and Jaxon briefly explained the situation that was likely to unfold.
It was a prediction of what would happen once they reached the city for resupply and rest.
It was a trap of a 'no-win choice'.
If they tried to rescue him, they'd have to cross the trap.
If they ignored him, they'd be dragged into a troublesome situation when they entered the city later.
"You killed my son!"
That's what the supposed landowner would shout, using everything from hired actors to hostages, threats, or poison, all to manipulate the situation.
'They'll tie us up in the city.'
Once confused, it would be over. A dagger in the back.
They probably had a team prepared for just that.
'Sneaky.'
Jaxon thought, while Encrid made his decision.
"Dunbachel."
"Yeah?"
"Go pick him up."
As they had seen in the previous battle, Dunbachel was quick and agile.
That was enough to ignore the traps and grab the man.
"Alright."
She didn't ask for reasons.
If Encrid gave the order, Dunbachel would follow it. That was how her mind worked.
Normally, the traps would trigger when someone approached to rescue the man, setting off the mechanisms hidden in the ground.
But Dunbachel made all of that irrelevant by launching herself forward.
Bang!
The ground, still muddy, exploded beneath her. It was the spot where Dunbachel had stepped with force.
Soaring through the air, she landed near the trap with a solid thud.
With a single leap, she had cleared the traps, and she forcibly opened the snare.
The metal that had clamped around the man's ankle broke apart with a loud crack, losing its function.
The man, sobbing and snot-faced, clung to Dunbachel.
Carrying the landowner's son like a princess, Dunbachel took a few steps back to create enough space for a running start, then leaped over the entire trap again.
It was a feat that displayed the power of the beastwoman's leg muscles.
"Waaahhh!"
The man's scream echoed in the air as Dunbachel cleared the trap.
Now, the landowner's son was part of the group.
Encrid checked the wounds of the rescued hostage, applying powdered medicine to stop the bleeding and wrapping it in a bandage.
"Th-thank you."
He was an ordinary civilian, a non-combatant. It was clear from instinct that he had nothing to do with the assassins.
Jaxon had come to the same conclusion.
If they had left him, they would've been labeled murderers who killed the son of a prominent figure in the city.
If they had rescued him, they'd have had to dismantle the complex trap set for them.
But thanks to the beastwoman's strength and Jaxon's experience, they had bypassed the entire trap.
Even after this, the assassination attempts didn't stop.
"Help me, please!"
It was a group of merchants. Bleeding from various places, they approached, claiming to be chased by monsters. No, they ran toward them.
Encrid furrowed his brow as he watched them running.
Were they really merchants?
They concealed themselves and hid their hostility. It was the basic skill of assassins. And that's exactly what they were doing.
He felt suspicion but not certainty.
Behind them, there were even three or four ghouls, lending some weight to their story.
Yet, something ticked in the back of his mind. A warning from his instincts. But why?
His sharpened, accelerated thought process, honed from sword training, kicked into action.
'Their injuries...'
Not one of them had an injured leg. And despite supposedly fleeing in terror, their breathing was unnaturally steady.
All of this was processed and analyzed through his intuition.
"They're enemies."
That was his conclusion. Jaxon confirmed it with a nod.
As if that weren't enough, Encrid used the Tangum style he learned from Jaxon and threw a dagger.
The dagger flew toward their necks, but just before it reached its target, it dropped down sharply. The portly merchant who had been pleading for help quickly dodged to the side.
If he hadn't moved, he would've ended up with a neat little dagger stuck in his thigh. But he avoided it.
And with such agile movements from that body? Clearly, this man was well-trained.
His nimbleness was something to be admired.
"Heartless bastard."
The fat assassin muttered, who had dodged to the side.
Not exactly the kind of thing one expects to hear from an assassin.
Encrid couldn't help but lightly retort as he initiated his attack.
"Are you pregnant?"
The assassin's brow furrowed, insulted by the jab at his masculinity.
He had trained for years to keep his composure, but that unexpected comment had triggered a brief moment of irritation.
He couldn't hide it.
His reaction became just a bit slower than usual.
And that was the end.
By the time the portly assassin sensed the dagger flying soundlessly toward him, it was already too late.
Thump.
A silent knife embedded itself in his throat. He grabbed at his neck, but blood began to pour through his fingers in thick, red streams.