Chapter 182 - The Purge Spreads

The Fourth Penumbra was in a predicament.

The original plan had been to lead thugs disgruntled with the Military State in an assault on District 12's largest military school. While those delinquents blamed the innocent school for lives they themselves had ruined, the Fourth would release the poison.

The Military State's taboo: the incident at Hamelin.

Clues to the incident in which 162 military school graduates had died en masse. What better place to scatter them than a school?

It was an ideal place to introduce the poison, so the Shadow had devoted particular attention to this district.

But someone had deceived the thugs into charging ahead, and the Fourth had hurried after them upon returning from the Shadow's assembly.

'Those impatient thugs haven't already finished and gone home, have they?'

Until arriving, the Fourth had worried not about the thugs, but about how well the school would hold up.

Unlike other facilities, military schools had woefully inadequate security. A dormitory supervisor and a few military school students standing night watch were all they had.

What if the furious thugs had already smashed everything they could and moved on? That was the concern.

But...

"You little bastards! Get down in the push-up position, now!"

"A military school is still a military facility! Do you realize what you've done?"

The sight on the school's parade ground left the Fourth reeling.

Every one of the thugs who had filled the streets lay sprawled like limp squid on the parade ground, thoroughly beaten. Veterans in instructor uniforms patrolled among them, clubs in hand.

They were the Shelter's veterans.

Former Major General Frontain had been a major general before retirement and become the Shelter's director afterward.

The old soldier twirled his cane above his head and shouted.

"You wet-behind-the-ears brats! If you couldn't become officers, you could have joined the engineering corps and learned a trade! If you've got the time and courage to attack a school, put that energy into making an effort! An effort!"

"Urgh...! How did these old geezers know to come here...!"

"Silence!"

Frontain rushed over like lightning and swung his cane at the muttering thug's backside. His exquisitely controlled strength converted the impact entirely into pain without breaking a single bone.

As the thug groaned in agony, Frontain scrunched up his wrinkled face and shouted.

"Be grateful we were the ones who caught you! If you'd actually carried this through, you wouldn't have gotten off with protective custody!"

These so-called thugs were nothing more than delinquent students led by recent graduates. The Shelter's instructors, all military veterans, were far too seasoned, organized, and powerful for mere hoodlums.

After dropping their leader with a single blow, the veterans had barked at them with such ferocity that the thugs had merely exchanged nervous glances and followed along one after another. Having met their match, they had lost their nerve without putting up any real resistance.

The Fourth clicked her tongue.

'... Tch. If I'd been hiding among them, I could at least have launched a surprise attack.'

The Shadows were assassins, after all. They could end a life with an unexpected strike, but had no chance in a head-on fight.

Worse, their opponent was someone who had once reached the rank of general. He was surrounded by formidable veterans as well. Walking in alone would simply mean getting herself surrounded.

'It's hopeless. To complete the mission, I'll have to sneak into the school and release the poison, at least...'

Just as the Fourth was about to slip through a blind spot and move stealthily forward, her keen ears caught someone muttering.

"To think the magician really was telling the truth. If we hadn't acted, things could have gone terribly wrong."

'The magician?'

The Fourth listened closely.

A legendary petty criminal whose very existence was uncertain, yet whose rumors were familiar even to the Shadow.

The magician was a mysterious figure whose identity even the Shadow had failed to uncover.

Whenever they investigated the rumors, they could only skirt the edges, never discovering who he was. It felt like chasing a ghost story with no substance.

Yet his activities were too clearly documented, and too many people claimed to have seen him, for him to be dismissed as a ghost story. Countless children said they had watched the magician perform while walking down the street. The Shadow alone had never seen him.

Puzzlement, coupled with a slight dent to their pride. That was precisely what members of the Shadow felt whenever they thought of the magician.

'Does that mean the magician interfered with us?'

Curious, the Fourth was about to take another step closer.

Her sharp senses stopped her in her tracks. Instinctively feeling eyes upon her, she flinched and looked around.

Something was off about the one-armed instructor standing over there. Unlike the others, he never once glanced in her direction.

That meant his attention was fixed on her. He had certainly detected the Fourth.

'The talk about the magician was bait! Retired or not, these soldiers are no pushovers!'

The Fourth Penumbra abandoned her lingering hopes and immediately withdrew. A shadow slipped into a dark gap between buildings...

Sensing the presence disappear, the one-armed instructor lowered his head with a troubled expression.

"I'm sorry, Director. I let my wariness show."

"Bah, tsk. Seems we've lost much of our edge without any real combat..."

His remark was not directed solely at the one-armed instructor. Soldiers they might be, but fighting was all they knew. They could beat down thugs charging straight at them, but lacked the ability to find a Shadow concealed in the dark.

Moreover, they were veterans who had spent years away from actual combat. Tracking a skilled assassin's presence through a dark school was difficult.

"My night vision's been getting poor lately... I can't make out hazy things like that. Same with the note the magician sent..."

Frontain planted his cane on the ground and gave a weary sigh.

The magician had sent a note to the Shelter along with a single card.

It contained information that the Shadow intended to lead thugs in an attack on the school, and that the mob included children who were still students.

Startled as though burned, Frontain had immediately summoned every veteran he could reach. Only a dozen or so had been reachable at this late hour, but each was a seasoned soldier trained in energy arts. They were more than enough to beat down a disorganized rabble of thugs.

"Tsk, tsk. In the old days, I'd have chased them to the ends of the earth and caught them. These days, I don't have the stamina... I hate to do it, but perhaps I'll have to leave this to the magician."

Capturing a Shadow hidden in the darkness was beyond them, but that had never been their job in the first place.

The Shelter's role was to protect children. Defeating the Military State's enemies should be left to the Military State.

If only it would defeat its enemies, and no one else.

Frontain gazed into the pitch-black darkness in the distance.

"Magician... I don't much care for dancing to your tune. But for the children's sake, I'll be your puppet."

Hamelin.

An incident the Military State had initially suspected was the work of dark mages... only to burn all information on it at some point and classify it.

Classified information that even generals dared not access.

The magician's note had alluded to that incident. That was why Frontain had acted so urgently despite his age.

If the story of Hamelin got out, this unrest would not end as a mere disturbance.

"There could be a purge..."

Troubled, Frontain turned around.

"None of our children here, are there? Of course, our children are all good kids..."

"Director, we've gathered our children over there."

"Hey! You brats! We clothed you, fed you, taught you well, and sent you out into the world! What more did you want that you had to get involved in this? A week in solitary for all of you!"

By the time the Third Penumbra reached the Market, its members had already subdued the transport union. The union members had gleefully stormed the warehouse to plunder it, only to be thoroughly beaten and incapacitated by the Market members lying in ambush.

The warehouse was the Market's fortress.

Both its layout and its equipment had been made for the market's merchants. The transport union members were no match for the Market, which used its supplies without restraint.

They might reasonably have let their guard down, but even after tying the union members up tightly and herding them into a corner of the warehouse, the Market remained alert. The merchants switched on every light and searchlight they could spare from the warehouse and kept watch in all directions.

Krin, the manager, shouted.

"More lights! Don't leave any shadows!"

That put the Third in an awkward position.

He had to sow chaos and release the poison. But simply scattering poison was not enough.

Even venomous snakes had fangs to pierce skin, and poisonous plants only worked when eaten. Unless it entered the body, poison was no different from a harmless, docile beast.

Naturally, the most effective approach would be to enter the warehouse and hide traces of it there. But...

"Don't let anyone in! We're staying up all night! Tomorrow we'll do business in our sleep!"

'Security is tight. Slipping in during the chaos would have been best...'

However impressive the Shadow's stealth techniques were, they could not hide someone in bright light. Even if he used the Black Shadow energy arts to conceal his form, a pitch-black mass floating around would arouse suspicion.

The Third habitually grasped his dagger's hilt and rubbed his chin with it. Before his eyes lay the interior of the enormous warehouse, cluttered with all manner of goods.

'Hmm. How to do this? If I could just get in there, I could hunt them down one by one.'

Perhaps because they had brought all the lights outside, the warehouse's interior was not particularly bright, and its assorted goods cast a jumble of shadows. He could hardly ask for a better hiding place.

'The Market is only a collection of merchants and warehouse keepers, after all. Hmm. Should I force my way through?'

Still, he could not simply stab everyone to death. A body had to be alive for poison to spread throughout it. Killing them all here would instead amount to cutting away only the affected part.

A precise insertion would be best.

What should he do? As he briefly pondered the question...

A luxurious carriage approached the Market. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but the mere fact that horses were pulling it was already unusual.

'A horse-drawn carriage? An expensive one. Is it with the transport union?'

In the Military State, anyone who could keep their own horses fell into one of two categories: those rich enough to afford it, and those who made their living from it.

He had a good idea. Unlike motor carriages, horses would run wild if given a slap on the rump. The Market would leave an opening while trying to stop the rampaging horses and carriage.

'Perhaps I'll borrow that.'

The Third sprang into motion.

Apparently bound for the Market, the carriage headed into the alley leading there.

The horse sensed something before the humans did and abruptly planted its forehooves. With a loud screech, the large carriage came to a near-emergency stop.

"A horse with sharp instincts."

SHING.

A streetlamp, cut diagonally through, toppled onto the road. As the shining lamp struck the ground, luminous fragments scattered everywhere. Before long, their mana ran out and their light faded.

The Third slowly emerged from the shadows where he had been hiding.

"Leave the carriage and get lost. Do that, and I'll spare your lives."

The driver turned around with a troubled expression. A young woman's voice came from inside.

"Peto. You could have simply kept going. A mere streetlamp wouldn't dent this carriage."

The driver answered her.

"Oh, miss. That would frighten the horse."

"That's none of my concern. It's your job, isn't it?"

"Driving a carriage wasn't part of the plan..."

"Really? Would you like to quit?"

"No, no. I must do whatever it takes to repay your kindness in taking me in when I was unemployed."

Shaking his head, Peto undid the harness attached to the carriage. Freed from the straps around its neck, the lion horse gave a pleased snort.

"Right. Being the president's secretary is better than being a knight's squire. What could be worse than that?"

As he spoke, Peto mounted the horse. Without stirrups or any other tack, he expertly guided it forward and stopped before the Third.

The Third muttered.

"A squire, eh? Judging by your paltry riding skills, that wasn't an empty boast."

"Ah, don't even mention that shit. It brings back bad memories."

Knights fond of their squires would sometimes teach them how to wield weapons or ride horses. Favored by his knight, Peto had received personal instruction from an early age.

Not that Peto had wanted it.

'Still only a squire. He's no knight, so there's nothing to worry about. I see neither armor nor weapons.'

Having finished his assessment, the Third Penumbra warned Peto.

"I'll give you one last warning, squire. Put your young lady on that horse and flee. Then you'll both be safe."

'A fine horse and carriage, rarely seen in the Military State. Whoever she is, she must be someone of considerable standing. If I send her away now, the Military State's upper ranks will take notice of this incident too.'

With his calculations made, he exuded killing intent. Whether Peto felt it or not, he merely scratched his head, unperturbed.

"A breadwinner has responsibilities. If I get on the president's bad side, my whole family ends up on the street. Even if you beat me to death, I have to fight you."

"So you choose to drink poison..."

'No choice, then. I'll finish them all here.'

The Third slid through the darkness. Cloaked in Black Shadow energy arts on the street where he had shattered the lamp, he moved like a ghost.

He had destroyed the streetlamp in advance in case a fight broke out. In this darkness, no one without senses as keen as a beast's would detect even a trace of him.

"Oh, and be careful. This horse is called a lion horse."

Yes. Unless it was a beast.

The lion horse's mane bristled stiffly. The hair that had fluttered in the breeze now stood still, pointing precisely toward the Third.

An instant later, the furious horse snorted and charged straight at him.

'What?'

Black Shadow energy arts concealed not only one's appearance but also sound and heat within shadows. When used to establish Heaven and Earth, they blurred the user's form as though it were submerged in darkness.

Horses were even famous for their poor eyesight. How, then, had it spotted him at once?

For that matter, why was a timid horse charging like a maddened bull?

"It resembles a lion in both looks and temperament. Taming it was a real ordeal."

NEIGH!

As if answering Peto's muttered words, the lion horse charged with a fierce cry. Closing the distance in just two strides, it raised its forehooves.