Yala's Blade (Part Two)

Twelve years ago, during those years when the kingdom was in chaos and blood covered the land, there was a terrifying swordsman who carved out a territory in Black Street with his utterly unprincipled, emotionless blade.

From that day onward, the fledgling Black Street Brotherhood and the long-established Blood Bottle Gang of the Royal Capital became like two dragons locked in a fight to the death, waging a life-or-death struggle for underground supremacy over Everstar City and even the Starfall Kingdom.

As time passed, the Black Street Brotherhood gradually grew from a young dragon into a colossal beast with sharp fangs and savage claws, beginning to stand toe-to-toe with the Blood Bottle Gang, which had once held an unshakable advantage.

Over a struggle spanning ten years, built upon countless deaths, injuries, and rivers of blood, the two major gangs also gathered a group of outlaws beyond the official gaze, stirring up bloody waves in the dark world.

Among them, the dozen or so Strong Ones of the Black Street Brotherhood and the dozen or so experts of the Blood Bottle Gang represented the most promising young people and rising stars of the two gangs, standing on the foremost front of their conflict.

Compared to their predecessors—the Brotherhood's mysterious three legendary assassins, its six magnates who rarely acted, the Blood Bottle Gang's terrifying two behind-the-scenes experts, and its bizarre eight Psychic Warriors—these young Strong Ones had far more famous names, familiar even to beggar children.

Baldy Spinn was the most mysterious of the Blood Bottle Gang's young experts whom busybodies called the "Twelve Supremes"—because only twelve remained at present.

He was responsible for collecting the Blood Bottle Gang's illicit debts and rarely appeared in large-scale battles, so no one spread tales of how skilled or formidable he was. Yet amid the blood-soaked gang conflicts that sifted survivors like waves washing sand, he had stood firm for a full five years without falling.

Meanwhile, many Brotherhood Strong Ones who had once fought him, figures whose names had shaken the streets in their day, had long since become gravestones—or nourishment for grass and trees.

Yala said nothing. She merely flexed her wrist.

"Dorno was an idiot. Using corpses for an ambush was disgusting too," Spinn said as he casually kicked the corpse of his companion at his feet, his face full of disgust. "But I still have to thank him for dying. Otherwise, I really would have had a hard time discovering that we had a silent, uninvited guest."

Spinn grinned hideously and took the terrifyingly huge Five-Faced Spiked Mace from his shoulder. Gripping it with both hands, he spun it around as though it weighed nothing at all.

Yala moved, vanishing from where she stood!

Baldy Spinn merely smiled indifferently before turning with savage force and swinging!

Clang!

The Five-Faced Spiked Mace, twice as thick as an ordinary man's arm, collided head-on with two Wolf Leg Knives!

Yala, who had launched the surprise attack, was thrown off balance and sent flying backward!

Tales's heart clenched!

Luckily, Yala regained her balance in midair, performed a graceful backflip, and landed steadily.

Baldy Spinn gritted his teeth and shook his weapon, looking as though he were swinging a baseball bat from Tales's previous life.

What terrifying brute strength.

But Tales also found it strange. If it was merely brute strength, why was Spinn rumored to be so mysterious?

"Your speed and surprise attacks really are impressive."

"But once your presence is known and your charge is anticipated, stopping you with battle instinct isn't all that difficult."

Spinn's grotesque nose twitched with his smile, making him look especially terrifying.

Yala said nothing. She simply vanished again.

The next moment, the Barmaid appeared before Spinn's left leg.

She lowered herself, rolled sideways, and sent out her blade.

But Spinn merely shifted his feet and sidestepped. Using the momentum of his body, he brought his mace crashing down once more!

Bang!

The spiked mace struck the stone ground, sending shards of rock flying!

Yala barely rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow.

"Such strangely shaped blades. What rare weapons and craftsmanship—but what a pity, little girl. Whether you're an assassin or a killer, when facing an enemy who's on guard, the sneak attacks you're so proud of are useless, aren't they?"

Yala crouched on the ground, seeming to consider her options.

"But if you want to enter Red Quarter, hehe, you have no other choice."

Spinn kept using words to disrupt Yala.

"What will you do?"

Watching from the side, Tales grew increasingly nervous.

He knew that, for now, Yala was his only means of crossing Red Quarter and escaping the Brotherhood.

But what worried him more at this moment was Yala's safety.

And Spinn's mysterious reputation.

Yala's expression remained hidden behind her goggles.

Until she slowly rose to her feet and flipped both Wolf Leg Knives at once, shifting them into a forward grip.

She seemed to have made some sort of decision.

Tales swallowed nervously.

He had witnessed Yala's nimble, ghostly movements and extraordinary speed, but against Baldy Spinn, who was clearly known for his strength, would her Wolf Leg Knives still work?

After all these years... Yala sighed inwardly. Do I still have to use this blade?

Yala did not launch another surprise attack.

The next moment, she stepped forward and charged directly at Spinn!

Tales was instantly startled.

The twin blades came one before the other: the foremost pointed at Spinn's throat, while the rear blade angled toward the spiked mace.

"Head-on?" Spinn roared excitedly, swinging his huge mace at Yala!

"You're courting death!"

Whoosh! The spiked mace cut through the air as it swept toward Yala's waist while she rushed forward!

Later, I'll have some fun with this chick. She's got a pretty good figure—hmm?

Spinn watched in surprise...

This time, Yala neither defended nor retreated.

The instant before the spiked mace struck her, her body displayed unbelievable flexibility, stretching out at an inconceivable angle!

The wind howled.

Facing the oncoming spiked mace, Yala performed a forward flip so astonishing that Tales's jaw nearly dropped, barely evading the attack.

Even Spinn was stunned.

That movement technique—how did she do that?

The attack was not over.

The Barmaid's rear blade lightly tapped against the spiked mace, and borrowing Spinn's immense force, she leaped toward the bald man's left shoulder!

She arced backward through the air as her foremost blade chopped down fiercely!

The altered curve of the blade allowed the Wolf Leg Knife to slash toward Spinn's left neck faster, more powerfully, and more lethally than an ordinary blade.

"Aaargh!"

Spinn roared as he staggered backward, narrowly avoiding a vital point at the critical moment.

But a spray of blood still burst from his left shoulder.

Spinn clutched his shoulder as he retreated, shock filling his heart. This little girl had completely abandoned defense, risking evasions just to gain opportunities to attack?

Didn't she know that a single mistake would mean certain death?

But Yala did not pause after landing. With a tap of her foot, she pressed her advantage and continued her assault!

Ignoring his wound, Spinn swung the spiked mace again!

Yet Yala spun sideways once more, slipping past the tip of Spinn's mace by a hair's breadth.

The two Wolf Leg Knives followed their mistress's rotation and slashed at Spinn.

Another flash of blood.

The bald expert cried out in pain!

This time, Yala had cut open Spinn's right flank.

But it was not over. Her next strike followed, shadowing him relentlessly!

The Barmaid's direct assault perfectly displayed the flexibility and suppleness of her body. Against Spinn's terrifying attacks, she twisted, shifted, and leaped away at the very moment she was about to be struck.

Several times, Tales watched her nose pass perilously close to the rusted spikes on the mace.

At the same time, Yala's attack rhythm and angles did not weaken in the slightest. They were even deadlier than her surprise attacks.

Spinn, on the other hand, was being steadily overwhelmed by her unrelenting and perilous attacks. Though the man roared again and again with frightening momentum, even Tales could see that, bleeding from ever more wounds, he was struggling desperately to cope.

This can't go on, Spinn thought in panic.

How could she keep making such hair's-breadth evasions without making a single mistake?

Clang!

Spinn made a desperate effort, using all his strength to deflect one attack. Then, with an awkward sideways roll—in Tales's eyes, a bear-sized brute was being forced into a miserable tumble across the ground by a slender girl only two-thirds his height—he evaded the barrage and quickly opened up some distance.

"Th-this is Rapid Kill Style!"

The words were like a stone breaking the water's surface, interrupting Yala's ceaseless offensive.

She trembled slightly and stopped.

"And the move you used to kill Dorno earlier probably came from the same source!"

Spinn panted violently, his face filled with terror. "Rapid Kill Style—I only saw it once, long ago, in the hands of Lordan Sarridon of 'Blood Aria'! You—you are from House Sarridon, the 'Assassin's Flower'!"

Yala dropped to one knee without saying a word—this seemed to be a stance she favored for exerting force—and merely stared coldly at the large man.

"That can't be!"

As though he had suffered some terrible blow, Spinn turned pale and his lips trembled. "Everyone from House Sarridon fled abroad after Kessel the Fifth ascended the throne!"

"Did you come here for some mission?" he asked in disbelief.

"But wanted posters and bounty notices cover the entire Western Continent! Carrying the grave crime of murdering royal family members, you actually dared come to Everstar City! Aren't you afraid of being hunted down?"

"No matter how strong House Sarridon is, no matter how strong the Black Street Brotherhood is, can you withstand the wrath of the Iron-Fisted King and the entire Starfall Kingdom?"

Tales was suddenly shocked.

What?

What... grave crime?

Yala's expression remained hidden in the darkness, utterly unmoved.

She merely slowly raised her blade!

But the next moment, Baldy Spinn's anger instantly deflated, suddenly softening.

"Fine, you can spare me," he pleaded bitterly. "I don't care about the Blood Bottle Gang anymore. Just go on through. As long as you let me live, I swear I'll leave Star Kingdom tomorrow—no, tonight!"

"I won't expose your secret either! I know what you're capable of!"

"I don't want to provoke House Sarridon!"

In the alley, Yala remained silent and as cold as ever.

Like a heartless stone statue.

As Tales listened to Spinn, countless questions flooded his mind.

"If I die here, your identity will be exposed! The Kingdom Secret Bureau will receive information tomorrow morning that the regicidal family has returned to Star Kingdom!"

Seeing no reaction from his opponent, the bald man grew even more terrified.

"Kessel the Fifth won't let you go! He'll wipe out every descendant and bloodline of House Sarridon—"

But before he could finish, Yala charged again!

Clang—slash!

This time, Spinn blocked the first blade, but it seemed to possess a life of its own. After striking his mace, it changed direction with bizarre speed and curved around it without bearing any force at all!

Yala's upper body twisted and changed direction like a soft ribbon, slipping around the spiked mace before her.

It's practically like drifting with a human body, Tales thought to himself.

What's happening? Spinn thought in shock. The trajectory of this blade—why can't I block it?

But the blade in the Barmaid's right hand did not stop. After changing direction, it returned to its original trajectory and drove forward with even greater lethality!

Until it cut into his throat.

Yala landed lightly.

Blood trickled across the ground.

Spinn's eyes widened.

He stared in astonishment as his opponent calmly wiped the blood from her blade on her clothes, then sheathed her weapons.

Baldy Spinn's spiked mace crashed to the ground.

"Wh-what kind of... blade style..."

Spinn struggled, wanting to ask one final question before he fell.

But he never managed to finish it.

In that instant, Tales seemed to return to the garbage heap behind Sunset Tavern four years ago. Before him, a carefree woman waved the blade in her hand and said to his stunned self:

"Chain Kill Style. What a waste to use it on a dog—hey, kid, do you want some meat? Call me Big Sister, and you'll get some meat."

Chain Kill Style.

Tales knew it. This was Chain Kill Style.

The last fellow to experience this blade style had been a large Rage Wolf Dog that had had a minor disagreement with Tales—"We were merely discussing whether humans should be included in a Rage Wolf Dog's diet. Of course, I'm very grateful that you supported my view, Big Sister—so, the meat?"—said Tales, trying hard to sound composed.

Yala's skill astonished him once again.

But what shocked Tales even more was the truth Baldy Spinn had revealed about House Sarridon, the Assassin's Flower.

Murdering royal family members?

Assassin's Flower?

A regicidal—regicidal family?

"Too much nonsense."

Yala looked at Spinn's corpse and spoke coldly.

"The so-called Twelve Supremes are nothing special."

With that, she called out to Tales, who had been hiding in the shadows.

"Let's go, kid."

Tales walked past Baldy Spinn's corpse and looked into his unclosed eyes.

Yet he still did not understand. If Spinn merely had great strength, a large build, and one less nose...

Why was Baldy Spinn known as the most mysterious of the Twelve Supremes?

Was Yala simply too strong?

He shook his head and walked toward Yala, no longer dwelling on it.

Glancing at the Barmaid's profile, Tales wisely did not ask her anything about House Sarridon.

I have secrets too, the boy thought.

And bigger ones than yours.

The two of them, one large and one small, continued toward the battlefield between the Blood Bottle Gang and the Brotherhood.

Sunset Temple, inner sanctum.

The gray-white-haired middle-aged noble sat on a stone chair beneath the inner altar, looking calm on the surface while anxiety churned in his chest.

His gaze had never left the Altar of God.

Or rather, it had never left the tiny Sacrificial Lamp that had been burning all along.

As if he feared the flame within it might suddenly go out.

Beside him sat an Elder Priest, deeply absorbed in prayer, quiet and devout.

That reminded the middle-aged noble of Yordel.

That terrifying man who was equally quiet—if not even more so.

Although His Majesty had great faith in Yordel, believing that "he would never hesitate when it was time to act,"

Yordel Gato—that fellow who hid behind a Purified Crystal Mask all day—had worked with him once in his youth. It was not a pleasant memory.

With his efficiency, he should have found the target long ago.

That guy was someone with convictions of his own.

After all, he served His Majesty's will.

And Yordel Gato, that unfathomable man, served His Majesty's interests.

The difference between heaven and earth, clouds and mud.

Did Yordel truly know, or understand, when His Majesty wanted him to act?

Red Quarter, alleyway.

Not long afterward.

Baldy Spin's corpse suddenly twitched.

A second later, the wound in his neck began healing rapidly at a visible pace.

Until the man struggled to climb back to his feet.

"Damn it!"

Spinn cursed as he shakily reached for his spiked mace.

Someone from House Sarridon had appeared in Everstar City.

City Hall would pay him ten gold coins for that information alone.

But...

Spinn touched the freshly healed wound on his neck and gasped in pain.

His life was still more important.

Fortunately, that woman had been in a hurry and had not looked back to check.

Spinn was one of the Twelve Supremes of the Blood Bottle Gang. His combat instincts and skill went without saying.

But more importantly, it was his little-known regenerative ability that often allowed him to turn the tables the instant his enemies let down their guard.

"As long as your head—more precisely, your brain—isn't destroyed, you can return from death." Those were the words the Blood Elementalist, one of the Blood Bottle Gang's true bigwigs, had said to Spinn:

"Congratulations, Undying Spin."

And that boy.

Undying Spin thought that while he had been playing dead, he had seen a frail boy appear at the street corner and follow the woman from House Sarridon away.

That was suspicious too. Any child who could follow a woman from House Sarridon was certainly no ordinary kid.

Some kind of genius? Someone with an ability that could turn the tide of battle?

Some sort of biological weapon? Capable of widespread destruction?

Or one of those inhuman Long-Lived Races? The boy looked young, but perhaps he was already hundreds or thousands of years old?

Spinn hoisted his spiked mace onto his shoulder and frowned.

Once I report this to the Air Elementalist, I'll—

But his thoughts were interrupted.

Someone suddenly appeared before Spinn.

Yes, appeared.

It was as if someone had drawn a person out of thin air, and the figure in the drawing had suddenly come alive, materializing without warning.

Spinn jolted in fright.

The strange person wore a strange mask and silently stared at Spinn.

"You saw that boy."

The masked person spoke.

His voice was hoarse and indistinct. It was not a question, but a statement.

Who was this?

Spinn had not detected him at all.

Stealth and concealment—was he also someone from House Sarridon?

The strange mask appeared to be made from some sort of dark purple hard metal, sharply angular, with only two round holes bored where the eyes should be. Round Crystal Lenses covered them, and behind those lenses seemed to be bronze-yellow mechanical devices.

The only reason Spinn could still think so much was because thinking was the only thing he could do.

The man in the dark purple mask held a short sword with a cross-shaped guard in his right hand.

The instant he appeared, that short sword sliced open the wound on Spinn's neck, which had only just healed.

Spinn did not even form the thought of dodging before his throat was slit alive once more.

"Clang!"

Together with his spiked mace, Spinn fell again.

What rotten luck, Spinn thought, preparing to welcome another death and revival.

Yet through his senses after playing dead, Spinn realized in shock that the masked man had not left.

The strange man frowned imperceptibly behind his mask.

He slowly crouched down and carefully examined Spinn's wound.

A moment later, the Masked Weirdo nodded as though he had suddenly understood.

Through his senses, Spinn discovered in despair that the masked man lightly flicked the short sword in his right hand, tracing a beautiful flourish.

No.

No!

Deep in his heart, Spinn screamed in terror!

No, no, no!

Then Spinn could only "watch" as the strange man guided the short sword along his temple, lightly and lethally...

And drove it into his head.

The blade was withdrawn.

Not even a drop of blood stained its smooth edge.

"As long as your head—more precisely, your brain—isn't destroyed, you can return from death—"

In his haze, Spinn seemed to hear the Blood Elementalist's words once more.

From that day onward, Baldy Spin, one of the Twelve Supremes of the Blood Bottle Gang—known within the gang as Undying Spin—never woke again.

The masked stranger crouched down and brushed his right hand over a blade mark on the ground.

It was the trace left by the Wolf Leg Knife when it had flown into the ground.

He stood up.

Then he vanished.

Just like...

A Ghost.