The World’s Finest Assassin Gets Reincarnated in Another World as an Aristocrat - Volume 6 - Chapter 21

Chapter 21 | The Assassin Fights Alone

Screams and bellows rang out from all over. Ordinary people were suddenly rampaging and attacking all in their way. It was a terrifying environment.

I wish I could just run like they are…

Despite being the ones to put on this excessive witch trial, the high priests fled as quickly as they could. They excelled at self-preservation. Not that I could blame them. Escape was preferable to remaining here.

“Dia, Tarte! Pattern C-7!” I yelled loudly enough for them to hear me in the midst of the panicked crowd. Pattern C-7 meant that I was going to take on the demon alone, and that they were to focus on rescuing people. I watched them get to work, then jumped up high and rode the wind to remain airborne.

“I have a clear view from up here.”

The Puppeteer’s greatest weakness was that it could not control people without the mana threads. What made the demon so fearsome was that it could produce an endless amount of easily replaceable soldiers, all while remaining hidden. However, those strings still led right to him.

I focused mana into my Tuatha Dé eyes to strengthen my vision and ability to see mana. I had to count myself lucky that he wasn’t using the invisible strings that caught me off guard earlier… That would’ve made this really difficult.

I’ll be in trouble if I don’t hurry. My shoulders were burning. Pain racked my entire body, centered on where I’d affixed the Airgetlam. It may have been a divine treasure, but installing a foreign object on my body naturally came with adverse effects.

I couldn’t afford to take it off, though. I couldn’t defend myself against the invisible strings. Without the arm, I would be finished the next time they got me.

“There it is.”

I accelerated using wind thrusters. The strings led to a totally plain house—an ideal hiding place that would never draw suspicion.

I felt someone watching me through a window. I sped up more and kicked through the pane, only to be greeted by countless strings that I had no hope of avoiding. Dodging them was impossible, so I charged forward instead. The threads penetrated my body, stealing the freedom of movement, but as soon as the god arm stopped receiving the cancellation code, it swiped and cut me free.

Once I regained control, I drew a large knife of a new variety that I’d developed, and with the momentum that carried me crashing through the window, I used the blade to cut open an overly thin, gray-skinned man. The regeneration ability unique to demons activated immediately, but the wound healed slowly, and he continued to bleed.

“This is problematic. I see the god arm wasn’t your only trump card,” the demon commented. His way of speaking sounded intellectual, almost like that of a scientist. That and his human appearance would’ve made it difficult to recognize him as a demon had I not already known.

“That’s right. I have plenty of others ready as well,” I replied.

I’d fought several demons already, and one thing always left me feeling uneasy. Unless I manifested a Crimson Heart using Demonkiller and destroyed it, the demon would restore itself immediately, no matter how I wounded them. That placed me in a very disadvantageous position and greatly limited my options in battle. If the demons were sharing information, my battle strategy would eventually cease working on them. After all, Demonkiller was a flawed spell and complicated to use.

“Hmm, that blade was made from the fangs of one of my brethren. How cruel of you.”

“If demons can kill each other, I hypothesized that a piece of a demon’s body could injure another of its kind… It looks like I was right.”

I’d crafted this knife using one of the lion demon’s fangs. It was made of strange material that was hard and sharp enough to bite through mithril armor, yet also resistant to impact, so I’d decided to collect it from the demon’s corpse.

Being made from a demon gave the knife capability beyond that of a mere strong weapon. There were numerous accounts in literature of demons fighting each other, and even some cases where one of them was said to have died. That meant that demons could slay each other. Previously, it had only been a theory, but I’d just proved it correct.

The Puppeteer sent strings at me. I dodged them by a paper-thin margin, dropped low, accelerated abruptly to vanish from the demon’s view, and took one soundless step to get behind him at a diagonal angle. Doing so made it appear to my opponent as though I’d vanished. This was an assassin’s technique to catch people off guard at close range.

I stabbed the demon fang knife into the Puppeteer’s neck and twisted my wrist to expand the wound. Purple blood erupted from his neck in a fountain.

“Hahhh, you are quite irritating, human,” the demon stated calmly. He held his injury, then jumped away and broke through the wall behind him. Puppets charged through the hole. He’d evidently hidden his guards in a different room.

Unlike the hierarch, who was a manipulated corpse, these people were still alive. Because I was determined to avoid needless killing, living puppets were significantly more troublesome for me to deal with. Knocking them unconscious accomplished nothing, and immobilizing them without taking their lives was extremely difficult.

While bearing intense pain, I took manual control of the god arm, cut the strings attached to the puppets, and charged forward. This was the perfect opportunity to try one more experiment. I drew a gun from my holster. It was my standard one, but the bullets were special.

I took aim and fired six times, emptying the magazine instantly. The bullets glowed red as they flew through the air, and they all connected and wedged into the demon’s flesh. What’s going to happen here? I wondered. If this test succeeded, then fighting demons would become much easier.

“Gah… Hahhhh, hahhhhh. Impossible… These are…khhk!” the demon gasped out between coughs.

The bullets took effect immediately. The result was even greater than the knife’s. No regeneration occurred at all. He looked no different than the thousands of humans I had shot across both of my lives.

“That’s right. These are projectiles made from a demon’s heart,” I declared.

If demons could kill each other, that got me wondering if the most integral part of the demon, the collection of their power, might also work as their greatest poison. I’d saved all the Crimson Hearts we’d shattered so far and analyzed them from a variety of angles.

This time I decided to use the Crimson Hearts to create bullets. I made them into hollow point rounds, which penetrated less than ordinary bullets. Hollow point bullets were made distinct by their empty tips. When one hit a soft target, the hollow section burst and caused the tip to expand, inflicting massive internal damage. They didn’t puncture well compared to other bullets, but they were very lethal and possessed excellent stopping power. This made them extremely useful for spreading poison throughout a body, as I was doing now.

“Hmm, this is what makes humans so frightening. From your weakness comes guile.”

The Puppeteer was on the verge of death from blood loss. His essential organs had been damaged by the expanded hollow point bullets lodged in his body, leaving him immobilized. I could have left him to die on his own. He was a demon, though, so nothing would have surprised me. I was going to make sure I killed him.

“Why don’t we talk this out, human? If you join forces with me, you could become the king of your kind… Oh, come now, you have nothing to worry about. Demons never betray another. We are much more trustworthy than humans,” the Puppeteer said.

I didn’t listen to him. I didn’t even respond. His skill of manipulation was too dangerous. If I took him up on that offer, all the people in my life could become his puppets before I knew it. His personality and trustworthiness were irrelevant; his very existence carried way too great a risk.

“You are clever, and cruel as well. More so than any monster—excuse me, hero—there has ever been.”

I loaded new bullets into the revolver, then fired them all without any hesitation. The Puppeteer went completely motionless.

“I successfully killed him without using Demonkiller… But I need to monitor him for at least twenty-four hours to be absolutely certain he won’t regenerate. The Holy Land likely has demon statues, so I’ll have someone take a look at those as well.”

I had to ensure the Crimson Heart bullets truly disabled the demon’s regeneration. After taking a seat in a chair, I pulled out my radio communication device to report that I’d killed the demon and to ask Dia and Tarte to see if the corresponding statue was broken.

All right, this case is closed… Actually, not quite. I had a really annoying talk with the high priests awaiting me. I was sure all suspicion of me had been cleared, but merely imagining the ridiculous things they would say to save face put me in a foul mood.