The moment the clay jar full of kerosene shattered, Gram smelled its distinctive odor.
His heart immediately tightened.
But when he discovered that it was only a pack of "Blue Dogs," he relaxed again.
These "Blue Dogs" had come for the babies!
He must have left a clue when he snatched the last baby at the police station.
At that thought, Gram cursed Arthur again.
Damn you!
If not for you, how could I have become this weak?
The Mystic Art "Hymn of Iros," which dragged people into dreams and used the "dreamscape" as its home ground, was powerful and uncanny, but it also came with various restrictions.
Beyond the necessary contact, it also had a range limit.
Above all, the toll it took on its caster was beyond imagination.
Even if Gram completed "Hymn of Iros" normally, he would be weakened for two or three days.
Now that Arthur had broken the Mystic Art, not only was his [Spirituality] obscured, but his [Physique] had also dropped drastically. Of all the Mystic Arts he knew, he could cast nothing except the simplest illusion.
But!
That was still enough to kill a squad of "Blue Dogs."
That was what Gram thought, and that was what he set out to do.
Still, this man of the mystical side did not charge straight out. He had noticed the crossbows in the Blue Dogs' hands.
Although gunpowder had risen to prominence, bows and crossbows had not entirely faded into history.
On rainy days like this, bows and crossbows still had their place on the battlefield.
Gram had no intention of taking crossbow bolts head-on with his body. He could not have managed that even at his peak.
And now?
He did not want to take a single bolt.
If one struck a vital spot, he would truly be finished.
So he threw out a coat hanger draped in his coat.
Gram smiled as he watched the "Blue Dogs" all hit the hanger.
Crossbows could be reloaded, of course.
But the time they needed to reload would be enough for him to slaughter the entire squad.
As for afterward?
Naturally, he would stall for time!
As long as he held out until after midnight, he could leave South Los at his leisure!
Even if the Count of South Los pursued him afterward, he was confident that he could lose the man on the vast sea. After all, the Count could not truly leave his territory for long unless he no longer wanted it.
For someone like him, who had merely killed a squad of "Blue Dogs," five babies, and six families-only forty-odd people altogether-it would not be worth it.
Of course, that could wait until later.
For now, naturally-
Kill the leader first!
Gram charged out, thrusting the dagger in his hand straight at Maltz.
The officers around them cried out in alarm, but Maltz remained calm.
The Third-Rank Police Officer felt as though he had returned to his youth.
Back then, he had stood on a battlefield facing cavalry, a Matchlock clutched in his hands.
It seems nothing has changed!
No, a few things have changed!
At least, I'm no longer holding a Matchlock, but...
Holy Water!
Recalling Arthur's earlier instructions, Maltz flung the Holy Water in his left hand and roared.
"Evil spirit, be purified!"
Gram, who had charged right up to Maltz, immediately took a faceful of concentrated sulfuric acid.
Hiss!
The sound of concentrated sulfuric acid eating through skin rang out.
Gram's screams followed.
"Aaargh!"
It worked!
Seeing this, Maltz did not hesitate. He immediately threw the Holy Water in his right hand as well.
Gram covered his face with both hands, and the concentrated sulfuric acid immediately began eating into the backs of his hands and his neck.
The pain drove Gram back.
A trap!
This is a trap set for me!
Who?
Xiudik!
It must be Xiudik!
Only Xiudik knows me this well!
Only he could set a trap specifically for me like this!
Gram grew increasingly furious. He wanted to roar, but he dared not, afraid that concentrated sulfuric acid would be splashed into his mouth.
If concentrated sulfuric acid really did get into his mouth, he would completely lose his ability to "chant." That would be a devastating blow.
No!
I absolutely cannot let that happen!
As he retreated, Gram focused all his attention on guarding against Maltz. To him, the Maltz before him was Xiudik in disguise.
Thinking back to the calm in the man's eyes as he charged, and that faint hint of mockery...
It is definitely Xiudik!
Gram had no doubt.
Thus, the man of the mystical side failed to notice Arthur standing on the roof of 14 Kirk Street.
After propping up his umbrella on the roof to keep "Anna" and the Medium's Case dry, Arthur stood with his sword in hand.
He held his left hand out in front, his four fingers straight and pressed together, his thumb forming a right angle with them. Like the barrel of a gun, the blade rested on his hand, aimed at Gram.
Fine raindrops pattered against Arthur's body and face.
Arthur steadied his breathing and gathered the strength of his entire body. Then he pushed off with his rear foot, shooting down from the roof as his sword-bearing right hand thrust straight out.
[False Swiftbird Swordsmanship]!
In the rain, the twelve Patrol Officers stared wide-eyed.
At that moment, they seemed to see an eagle swooping from the sky to hunt prey on the ground.
Gram also heard the rush of air overhead.
The man of the mystical side finally sensed that something was wrong.
But it was too late!
Sword light flashed.
Arthur leaped down from the roof and swept past Gram.
Gram's body went rigid. His hands were still over his face, and he could only peer between his fingers at the figure standing with a sword.
That all-too-familiar silhouette instantly confirmed Arthur's identity to Gram.
At that moment, Gram realized that he had been wrong.
Utterly wrong!
"It's you!"
"I..."
Spurt!
Filled with frustration and rage, Gram tried to say more, but blood sprayed from his neck like a fountain.
Scarlet splashed more than three meters into the air. Gram staggered, tipped sideways, and collapsed at Arthur's feet.
Ignoring the corpse at his feet, Arthur turned his sword-bearing right hand. The blade immediately traced a semicircle before him, flicking its blood onto the muddy ground in a straight line, before he sheathed it.
His gaze turned to Gram.
More precisely, to the words before his eyes that only he could see:
[Killed a severely wounded individual of the mystical side, XP +20]
Just as I thought, I only get XP for killing people of the mystical side!
Having confirmed another of his suspicions, Arthur began examining Gram's corpse with his sheathed sword.
He hoped to find something.
Meanwhile, Maltz shouted at the stunned Patrol Officers-
"Put out the fire and rescue anyone inside!"
"Do not touch anything!"
Although Maltz knew that last instruction would do little good, he had to make a show of it in front of Arthur.
Arthur understood that perfectly.
But he did not mind.
It was not that he had ignored Maltz's gesture, but that he knew 14 Kirk Street was not the lair of the toad before him.
In his predecessor's memories, a family of four had lived here.
The husband seemed to be a first mate, the wife a homemaker, and the son and daughter were probably just old enough to need a private tutor.
Arthur could not help glancing at 14 Kirk Street.
Through the broken front door, he could see the bodies in the dim hallway.
Two adults and two children, tossed aside carelessly.
What a cruel world.
Arthur thought silently. When his gaze returned to Gram's corpse, he no longer felt any such emotion. He merely added a slight emphasis to that thought.
What a truly cruel world.
With that judgment in mind, Arthur searched Gram's body for loot even more thoroughly.
It was the same in every world: strength and vigilance were both indispensable.
The victor gained everything.
The loser lost everything.
Arthur did not want to become the loser, so he could only explore his surroundings with greater vigilance, gathering more nourishment to make himself stronger.
After all-
Victory meant life!
And soon, he found something on Gram's corpse.
"Huh?!"
Before you continue