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The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld-Chapter 177
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
Chapter 177: The Duty of an Assassin and a Man of Honor
After meeting Friederun, I returned alone to the rooftop of the annex.
The sea breeze blowing in from the ocean was rough and cool, and it felt as though if I spread a long, sturdy cloth like wings, I could take flight into the night sky right then and there.
‘If only I had wings.’
I would soar through the deep night, cross the sea, and return to the underworld of Flanders.
There, I would pour wine on my grandfather’s grave, honor the spirits of my fallen comrades, and watch over the nights of those old connections still living.
But I have no wings, and I can’t even meet my mother, who is so close I could touch her if I reached out.
“Haha.”
Allenvert, the noble son who possesses the wealth, status, and authority that Karzan of my past life never had.
Yet, in reality, isn’t he even less free than a man from the underworld, born an orphan in the back alleys?
Shackles, prison, noose. I want to throw off all these stifling things right now, but I can’t.
‘Even if this isn’t the life I chose, how I live it is entirely up to me.’
So, I’ll see this path I’ve chosen through to the end.
Swoosh.
I took out Voyager of the Night and the bracelet sword and placed them on the railing.
One sword for Allenvert, the noble son of a prestigious clan, and one for Karzan, the man of the underworld.
‘A sturdy and strong sword, and a thin, light one that’s fast and easy to carry.’
The characteristics of the swords differ, so the way they’re wielded must also differ.
‘This is my essence too. Not being fixated on just one path.’
I’ve now completed the foundations of Seven Stars of the Black Sea Technique and Azure Sea Moon Shadow Swordsmanship, and I plan to add the advanced martial art Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique on top of that.
“Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique is, in short, a comprehensive martial art that strengthens the practitioner’s body and soul—a divine art.”
According to Ulbhild’s explanation, those who master Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique can enhance their senses, strengthen their bodies, remodel their meridians, and optimize the pathways for storing and drawing out power.
“Most importantly, it allows one to elevate their aura to the level of reinforced aura.”
If you channel the reinforced aura of Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique into a punch, it can shatter armor; into your legs, it becomes a movement technique; and into a sword, it can split mountains.
“You can also use reinforced aura to unleash attacks in various forms, such as slashes, palm strikes, fist winds, and energy blasts. Even without wielding a sword, you can subdue enemies with techniques like fist arts, leg arts, and area-of-effect skills.”
My essence is closer to that of a swordsman, but I have no intention of focusing solely on the sword in life-and-death battles.
Dagger techniques, close combat, and every other method—if it brings down the enemy, that’s what matters, right? An ugly victory is better than a honorable death—that’s my philosophy.
‘Other martial arts are tempting, but…’
Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique, which enhances the body and focuses on reinforced aura, suits me well.
‘Of course, it also covers the realm of the sword.’
But it’s not purely about mastering the sword. And honestly, I don’t feel an urgent need for that kind of study.
‘I have Karzan’s memories.’
I’m a man whose swordsmanship is the envy of many. That’s who I am.
Through Azure Sea Moon Shadow Swordsmanship, I’ve already grasped the sword principles pursued by Grunewald and noble clans. From here on, I’ll continue to carve out my own path in the realm of the sword by clashing with many swordsmen.
Simply following and learning from the deep studies of others isn’t my style.
‘Besides, what I lack most right now is mana capacity.’
My level has risen too quickly compared to the time I’ve spent taking spirit medicines and accumulating mana.
Therefore, Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique that allows me to unleash power beyond my current capacity, is a perfect match for me.
‘Seven Stars of the Black Sea Technique and Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique.’
These are the new challenges for Allenvert, who has already crossed the threshold of the beginner.
‘But there are still two weeks left before I can begin learning Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique.’
During that time, I plan to solidify my foundation through rigorous training with Ulbhild.
“……Hah.”
Finishing my long contemplation, I looked up and saw a sea of stars twinkling in the night sky.
“Wow.”
How dazzling. It’s as if the stars are pouring down. The river of the Milky Way flows across the cloudless sky.
‘A river flowing above the sea.’
When I looked down again, I saw the starlight reflecting on the dark, shimmering ocean.
‘Seven Stars of the Black Sea Technique.’
It’s exactly the scene described by that martial art.
Perhaps the founder of this martial art, Vitenfeld, also created it on a sleepless night like this, lost in thought.
If so, what were his worries? Was it martial arts, the management of the duchy, the state of the continent, or simply family troubles?
‘I’ll never know.’
The thoughts of a sage who lived long ago and vanished like a handful of wind.
But even a hero enshrined in legend is, at their core, not so different from an ordinary human.
I confirmed this through the anguish of my father, Georg. Even a powerhouse capable of slaughtering ten thousand soldiers alone is neither flawless nor perfect.
‘It’s because we’re weak and tormented that we’re human.’
Just as my mother, the pride of Eisenach, known for her wisdom, crumbled under tragedy.
‘But it’s also because we can ignite the flames of will and don the armor of reason that we’re human.’
At times, humans are pitifully weak—
But at other times, they become unbelievably strong.
Humans are dualistic and complex beings.
‘……And my meeting with my mother is finally within reach.’
Friederun will surely persuade her. So, as I told her, all I need to do is hone my skills to win the high-stakes battle that will determine the fate of our clan.
“Will she be strong?”
I asked myself and answered.
“She must be.”
She’s the pride of Valkenhain, a duchy rivaling even Grunewald, raised with all their wisdom, martial strength, and wealth poured into her. She might even be preparing to break past the wall of the next tier.
“Wait, no.”
I scratched my head as I remembered a name I’d forgotten.
“What the hell is Barclava up to?”
The youngest of that clan is no pushover either. This isn’t the time to be building up his pride, is it?
‘He’s not an opponent you can beat just by training like this, you idiot.’
If he’s still building up his pride, he hasn’t come to his senses yet.
‘Should I go and beat some sense into him?’
I sighed as I thought of the golden brothers, Barclava and Somerset.
“Ugh, they’re such a handful.”
Anyway.
I sensed Peter’s presence fidgeting in the distance and turned my head.
“Peter, what are you doing?”
“Huh? Oh, well. You seemed troubled, so…”
“Then come over and talk.”
“Hehe, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Seeing Peter’s silly smile, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Fine, come here.”
“Okay!”
“Let’s stargaze.”
We lay side by side, gazing at the stars embroidering the night sky for what felt like an eternity.
.
.
.
“Achoo!”
“Cold?”
“Ah, no.”
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“Alright, let’s go in.”
* * *
Silas Agrippa felt something was off the next morning.
“Why is there no news?”
The night had passed. By now, whatever conclusion there was to be reached should have already been reached. When Silas, sensing something ominous, returned to the branch of the Svaltalfar—
“Lord Silas, you’ve come.”
He immediately sensed that something had gone terribly wrong.
“Why are you here? Where is Luktum…?”
The one who greeted him was not Luktum himself, but one of his subordinates.
“Lord Silas, I apologize, but we will be returning your advance payment.”
“…What are you talking about?”
The young man responded.
“Luktum has been killed by Huten.”
“What?!”
“He sent us his severed head.”
“…Damn it.”
Silas cursed under his breath.
“Luktum is dead? How is that even possible?”
Who was Luktum Svaltalfar? A master assassin who had reached the 5th tier. A man so deeply versed in dark arts that, if he so desired, he could easily take the head of even the boss of the Bisakino Brotherhood.
“We don’t know if he fell victim to psychological warfare, a trap, an ambush, or poison.”
The man spoke in a monotone, devoid of emotion.
“But it doesn’t matter. If he was killed, it means the assassination failed.”
And then.
“Failing an assassination is a disgrace to the Svaltalfar. Therefore—”
Though his voice carried no intimidation or anger,
it was filled with a chilling killing intent.
“This is now a matter of restoring the Svaltalfar’s honor. I apologize, but this has moved beyond the scope of your request.”
The man placed the advance payment receipt on the table.
“Huh, no…”
Silas, still in shock, managed to reply.
“Doesn’t this mean our Agrippa also bears some moral responsibility?”
“You entrusted us with the request, and we failed. How is that Agrippa’s responsibility?”
The man retorted.
“Then let me ask you this. What do you plan to do now?”
“It’s not for me to decide, but…”
The man continued.
“Sending us Luktum’s head was a clear mockery and provocation. The Bisakino Brotherhood must pay the price for this.”
“Are you planning to wage war?”
The man shook his head.
“A top assassin from the main clan will be dispatched immediately. To restore the clan’s honor, he will challenge the Bisakino Brotherhood alone and bring back Huten’s head.”
This was their way, their code.
“Failure in assassination is an occupational hazard. But if they use it to insult us, it becomes a challenge that must be answered. Whether Huten knew this and provoked us anyway, I don’t know.”
The fact that they could impose their code on other organizations spoke volumes about their standing in the underworld.
“If even this fails, we will admit defeat and withdraw. If they wish to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, they will hand over Huten. If not, they will prepare traps and ambushes to protect him.”
“Ah, I see.”
Silas nodded.
“So it’s like a custom, a duel of sorts?”
“Correct. Any organization belonging to the underworld of Litvaleur must abide by this rule without exception.”
“…How barbaric.”
He was once again struck by the influence of the so-called second rate organizations in the world of the night.
“To be honest, this kind of thing doesn’t happen often in our clan. From what I recall, the most recent case was eight years ago.”
This was a testament to the formidable reputation of the Svaltalfar, known as a clan of master assassins. Both the main clan and its branches boasted an almost undefeated record.
‘And yet, Luktum died so meaninglessly.’
No matter how he thought about it, it was strange. How could a mere executive of a third rate organization possess such power?
“You should be cautious. Whether Huten has hidden his true strength or prepared an elaborate trap, you must not let your guard down.”
“I appreciate the advice, but the main clan’s capabilities are on a different level. We’ve already sent a letter. The Bisakino Brotherhood can either prepare their defenses or hand over Huten.”
“…Right, I see.”
Silas nodded heavily.
“And I won’t take this money back.”
“Huh?”
Silas pushed the receipt back.
“This wasn’t a deposit but an advance payment. Even if the mission failed, taking back money already given is not the way of Agrippa.”
“But that’s—”
Silas raised his hand to stop the objection.
“Use this money to craft Luktum’s coffin and carve his body with care. Consider it funeral expenses. Do you understand?”
“…”
The man closed his eyes.
“We won’t forget Agrippa’s kindness.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.”
In this moment, Silas fully demonstrated his acumen as a shrewd merchant. The trust between clans, built over generations, is formed through moments like these, stacked one upon another.
The Svaltalfar would surely remember this.
‘…The irony is that this is the relationship between an assassin and their client.’
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]