Episode 26

Even when I threw out a taunt that bordered on mockery, the two assassins’ expressions remained unchanged.

It’s not surprising, really. Concealing emotions is a fundamental skill for skilled assassins.

Not that it matters.

I wasn’t trying to provoke them; I was trying to prevent them from committing suicide.

As I twirled the ceremonial sword in my hand and took a step forward, the two assassins retreated.

They were wary, wondering what gave me the confidence to act so arrogantly.

While the assassin siblings were on high alert, I discreetly observed them as well.

I didn’t have to try hard; this finely-tuned body of mine could catch even the slightest movements.

Now that the assassination attempt had failed and it had turned into a full-on confrontation, as long as I stayed sharp, there wouldn’t be any real danger.

If they wanted to kill me head-on, they’d need to bring someone like Richard or my father.

“Sorry to interrupt your tension, but let me ask you something. Were you the ones who sent those lackeys last time?”

”…”

As expected, there was no answer.

However, while the man remained impassive, the woman showed a slight reaction.

It was only for a fleeting moment, but my senses didn’t miss it.

‘Is she surprised? It does seem like they’re different from the ones who came last time.’

The assassin who targeted me in the palace was clearly of African descent.

In contrast, these siblings didn’t appear to be from Africa.

They were likely merchants from the Middle East in disguise.

There are two notorious groups of assassins from the Middle East that come to mind.

The extremist Shia assassins.

The infamous Assassins of Alamut, who gained notoriety during the Crusades and the Mongol invasions.

And the Syrian Assassins, the Batini, who split from them and are now at their peak.

Judging by the siblings’ precise and swift movements, they likely belong to one of these groups.

If that’s the case, even capturing them might not yield any useful information.

I pointed at the male assassin with my finger.

“I don’t know your name, but you there. Your sister… or maybe she’s not your sister. Either way, you were planning to ditch her and run, weren’t you?”

”…”

“If it was part of the plan, fine. But if not, isn’t it a bit pathetic? Leaving her to handle the assassination and capture while you just slip away.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

Unlike the silent man, the woman snapped back in French, clearly agitated.

As I suspected, the woman seemed less experienced compared to the man.

Perhaps she’s a devout believer, thrown into action because of her unwavering faith and decent assassination skills.

Just as I was considering pressing for more information, the man shouted angrily.

“You fool! Don’t react to such low-level provocations!”

“Ah…”

Too bad. I thought I could get a bit more out of them.

I knew from the start that mere words wouldn’t yield significant information.

I tightened my grip on the sword’s hilt and spoke.

“I thought you’d gone mute, but you can talk just fine. If you don’t want to chat, then attack, run, or end it all. Do something.”

No sooner had I finished speaking than the man, who had been inching into position, dug under a church pew and pulled out a hidden knife.

Had he stashed it there just in case?

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his thorough preparation.

“Finally ready to give it a go, huh? Then…”

Whoosh!

The moment I glanced away, a sharp whistling sound sliced through the air from behind.

I instinctively twisted my body, narrowly dodging two daggers that whizzed past my head.

Throwing daggers isn’t as simple as it looks in movies or games, where they just fly and stick with a swoosh.

The fact that they flew so accurately from a considerable distance, aiming for vital spots, meant the woman’s skills were formidable.

But I had no time to focus on her as the man closed the distance, swinging his sword.

It was an early type of scimitar, commonly used in the Middle East at the time, with a slightly curved tip.

Clang!

I parried with my weapon, but the man only staggered slightly.

It wasn’t that he was as strong as me.

The ceremonial weapon was fragile, making it hard to put my full strength into it.

Still, it was clear he was more skilled than the last assassin who attacked me.

“For an assassin who relies on ambushes, your swordsmanship is impressive.”

“Assassination is merely a means to an end, not a measure of one’s abilities.”

“Well, you seem proud of your skills, at least.”

I dodged another dagger aimed at my wrist and swung my sword with renewed force.

This time, the man’s stance faltered as he blocked my attack.

“Finally getting the hang of this weapon.”

They say a master doesn’t blame his tools.

Even after just a few swings, I could instinctively gauge how much force to use without breaking it.

If the woman hadn’t tried to stab me in the back, I could have easily subdued the man.

‘These two…’

Initially, I thought I could handle them, but their teamwork left little room for error.

Especially since my goal was to subdue, not kill, which made it twice as challenging.

Clang! Clang!

The two assassins continued to evade my attacks by covering each other’s weaknesses.

When the man held his ground with his sword, the woman would throw hidden weapons or try to exploit my openings with her daggers.

Even though her strength was limited, a stab from a dagger could still be fatal.

Their method was simple, but their coordination was unexpectedly seamless, making them a tough pair to crack.

Judging by their synergy, they were either real siblings or had been working together for a long time.

Having a backup plan was indeed the right choice.

I deliberately turned my back on the woman, raising my sword as if ignoring her.

Seeing this, the man smirked for the first time, a hint of derision in his expression.

“Planning to take me down first? You never learn.”

“I always focus on one target at a time.”

“Before you know it, the sword of judgment will pierce your back.”

Ignoring the man’s words, I swung the ceremonial sword repeatedly, forcing him to defend with growing desperation.

After several exchanges, the man lost his balance while gripping his sword.

Meanwhile, the woman approached from behind, aiming her dagger at my side.

It was a similar pattern to before, but this time, she wasn’t targeting my neck.

I ignored her attack and went for the man’s wrist.

The man’s eyes widened in shock, realizing my strategy of sacrificing flesh to break bones.

“You… you wouldn’t!”

Clang! Clang!

The sound of metal clashing rang out twice as the man’s sword flew from his grasp.

At the same time, the woman’s dagger failed to pierce my side, stopped by something unseen.

“Armor under the robe…”

As the disarmed man muttered in disbelief, I landed a punch squarely on his face.

Smack!

Blood spurted as the man’s body lifted off the ground, and before the stunned woman could react, my foot connected with her abdomen.

Thud!

With both of them disarmed and down, the soldiers who had been watching anxiously rushed in, tying the two up with ropes.

The man, still bleeding from his nose, glared at me with gritted teeth.

“You coward… You wore armor and pretended to dodge every attack to make me drop my guard?”

“Isn’t it a bit odd to call the victim cowardly when you’re the one who ambushed me?”

When I countered, the man’s face twisted with hatred, and he muttered something in Arabic.

Typical. When he can’t win the argument, he resorts to cursing in a language only he understands.

“And what about you, miss? How do you feel about this turn of events? Not only did you fail the assassination, but you also got captured.”

“Spare me the mockery and just kill me. I don’t understand why God hasn’t taken your life, but perhaps it’s my own failing.”

Unlike the man, the woman seemed resigned, closing her eyes as if accepting her fate.

“So, you’re like the ones who came before. Not afraid to die, huh?”

Suddenly, the man spoke up, his eyes flashing.

“No. I can’t die here. Please, let me go.”

“Are you insane? Do you think I’ll just let you walk away because you asked nicely?”

“Of course not. But I’ll tell you what you want to know. And I promise never to target you again if you spare me.”

At this point, his audacity was almost impressive.

I wasn’t the only one taken aback by his attitude; even the woman looked shocked, her voice sharp as she shouted.

“Brother! What nonsense are you spouting? Begging for your life in front of someone who defiled God’s name?”

“Shut up! If you’d handled things properly from the start, we wouldn’t be in this mess. You call yourself the best assassin, yet you can’t even manage something so simple?”

”…I’ve never claimed to be the best.”

“Whatever. If you want to die, do it alone. I’m not dying in a place like this.”

Anyone listening might think I’d promised to spare him or something.

Sure, I don’t intend to kill him, but the way he’s talking so casually about it is starting to get on my nerves.

“Sorry to interrupt this lovely sibling chat, but can we get back to our conversation? So, you’re saying if I promise to spare you, you’ll spill everything you know?”

”…Yes, that’s right. And if necessary, I can pay. I keep my deals, so you won’t regret it.”

“Sounds like you’ve got some powerful backing, huh?”

The man nodded slowly, while his sister glared at him with eyes full of hatred.

Unlike his fanatical sister, it seemed the brother had been using assassination as a means to climb the social ladder.

That could work to my advantage.

I focused on the trait labeled [Inferiority Complex] hovering above his head and asked, “Alright, let’s start with the most pressing question. Why did you try to kill me? Was it because I supposedly defiled the name of God? Me?”

“You’re more interested in that than our background?”

The man looked genuinely puzzled, and I nodded calmly.

“Did I cause some incident while serving in the Crusades? If so, it wasn’t intentional, so let’s just let it slide.”

“Do you really not know…?”

“If I knew, would I be asking?”

His sister, who had been glaring at her brother for begging for his life, turned her hateful gaze back to me.

“You fraud! You may have escaped this time, but don’t get cocky. Soon, Allah will strike you down with the sword of judgment!”

“Fraud?”

“Not just you, but the Pope who sets up false prophets like you to confuse us will also face divine punishment! You who defile the name of the Prophet Muhammad!”

She ranted on, spewing curses as if someone had pressed her berserk button.

Stripping away the useless words, the core issue seemed to be that my recognition as a prophet was the problem.

False prophet. Muhammad. Defiler of God’s name…

Connecting these key phrases, a crucial realization struck me.

‘Wait… my existence itself contradicts Islamic doctrine, doesn’t it?’

Ah, no wonder they’re so upset. Must have been quite a blow. Not that I feel sorry at all.