Part 5: Wishes Do Come True (2)

As Aiden appeared, the skeleton targeted him as prey.

Ssshhk!

A chilling blade aimed directly for Aiden’s crown.

Lucy was behind him.

Aiden didn’t dodge. Instead, he caught the blade barehanded.

His palm, infused with mana, glimmered faintly with a blue light.

Clang!

With a twist of his wrist, Aiden snapped the blade as if it were a brittle cracker.

“……!”

The skeleton tilted its head in bewilderment.

Crack!

Before it could process what had happened, its skull shattered into fragments. Aiden’s elbow struck its forehead like a hammer.

The skeleton collapsed instantly.

“A… Aiden? Is that really you? This isn’t a dream, right?”

Lucy was equally stunned.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. After all, Aiden had suddenly emerged from her shadow, leaving her utterly flabbergasted…

Without answering, Aiden approached Lucy.

He bent down slightly and stretched out his hands, pulling her cheeks apart.

“Ow! That hurts!”

“Doesn’t seem like a dream to me.”

“Idiot! How can you joke around in a situation like this?”

Lucy grabbed the hand Aiden extended and stood up.

“By the way, what was that? How did you come out of my shadow?”

“I can manipulate shadows.”

“Shadows?”

“Everyone has at least one hidden talent, don’t they?”

“That’s way too absurd to just call a ‘hidden talent,’ don’t you think?”

Aiden chose not to respond.

Shadow Gate.

It was an ancient secret technique, passed down only to the Rogue Masters.

But Aiden was special. He had been taught this technique directly by his master.

The Shadow Gate allowed him to maintain up to four gates at once. By embedding a gate into an object or person’s shadow, he could teleport to its location whenever he wished.

When Carl had worried about Jack’s rampage, Aiden had already planted gates in the shadows of Carl, Lyra, and Lucy—just in case.

“For now, you should head back. It’s dangerous.”

“And it’s dangerous for you too, isn’t it? You’re planning to fight the undead, right? Let me help!”

“Staying put is the best way you can help.”

“Don’t underestimate me! I’ve taken down a ghoul before.”

“And you almost got killed by a skeleton too. If I hadn’t stepped in, what would’ve happened to you?”

Lucy fell silent at Aiden’s pointed remark. She couldn’t argue—no matter how many excuses she might try to muster.

Aiden adjusted his hood, pulling it over his face.

When fighting, he preferred to keep his identity concealed.

“If you don’t want to go back to the inn, then just watch. I’ll allow that much.”

With a sharp motion, Aiden launched himself forward.

Thwack!

He leapt into the air, scattering ten throwing daggers. The blades gleamed like jewels.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Each dagger struck its mark, piercing the foreheads of the ghouls.

Ten ghouls, which had been spewing corrosive saliva, collapsed in under three seconds. Their writhing forms squirmed on the ground like dying worms.

Thud!

Aiden landed gracefully. From his subspace, he drew a dagger—a Holy Dagger.

The Holy Dagger was silver from tip to hilt.

As Aiden wove through the battlefield, the gleaming blade left trails of light, resembling silver waves.

Crash! Crunch!

Wherever Aiden passed, the skeletons were reduced to nothing. Skulls split apart, torsos shattered, and legs severed.

The skeletons’ attacks couldn’t touch Aiden.

Their eyes couldn’t follow his movements.

Their shields failed to protect them.

All they could do was crumble to pieces in an instant.

In no time, the plaza became a graveyard for the undead.

“Captain Bolton, at your service. Thank you for your assistance.”

Bolton approached Aiden, bowing respectfully.

“Aiden,” Aiden replied curtly.

“Your skills are extraordinary! To annihilate so many undead at once… You’ve saved us.”

Aiden simply shrugged.

For the continent’s strongest assassin, undead were easy prey.

“I know this is presumptuous, but could you help us a little more? We still haven’t dealt with the vile necromancer behind all this.”

“Sure. Step back for now.”

“We’ll assist—”

Bolton’s words were cut off.

Five wraiths were hurtling toward them.

Wraiths.

Incorporeal ghosts.

Their grey, flickering forms floated ominously as they surged forward.

“That lunatic! Summoning wraiths too? We need to retreat! Without aura manipulation, it’s impossible to fight wraiths. We should hold out until reinforcements arrive—”

Aiden shook his head and charged at the wraiths.

From behind, Bolton shouted, calling Aiden reckless.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Aiden dodged the wraiths’ claws with ease. Their attacks were sluggish and predictable.

As Mugin had said…

Fighting such weaklings felt beneath him.

After all, his most recent foe had been Astaroth.

Even so, there was something satisfying about moving his body again.

Focusing intently, Aiden’s sharp gaze locked onto his target.

A ‘point’ appeared in his vision.

Connecting the points, he saw a ‘line.’

A single path to eradicate the wraiths with one strike.

Track of the Massacre.

Flash!

The Holy Dagger carved an intricate arc through the air.

The arc encompassed all the wraiths within its path.

“Screeeech!”

“Shrieeek!”

The wraiths screamed in agony.

Heads were severed, torsos sliced apart, and shoulders split open.

The wraiths, torn by the Holy Dagger, dissipated like smoke.

The plaza fell silent once more.

“Come down. It’s your turn now.”

Aiden’s dagger pointed to the top of the clock tower.

*  *  *

“Am I dreaming?”

Bolton stared blankly at Aiden, his disbelief evident.

Even after witnessing it firsthand, it was hard to accept.

Aiden was an aura user.

Moreover, he had displayed enough power to obliterate five mid-tier undead wraiths in a single blow.

Having someone of his caliber in Centum was nothing short of a miracle.

If Aiden hadn’t intervened, what would’ve happened?

Even if they somehow managed to fend off the skeletons and ghouls, the wraiths would have wiped them out.

Centum, a small town and territory…

Only two people here could manipulate aura.

And both were knights stationed at the lord’s manor.

They were likely on their way to the plaza, having only just heard of the undead invasion.

“We can’t let our guard down yet, can we?” one of Bolton’s subordinates spoke cautiously.

“Jack is still out there. If we don’t take care of him, this won’t mean a thing.”

“That’s true…”

“Will that man be able to handle Jack?”

“Honestly, expecting him to handle everything is unrealistic. All we can hope is that he holds out as long as possible.”

Bolton gritted his teeth.

The reason for Jack’s all-out war against the territory remained unknown.

One thing was clear, though: Jack wouldn’t have started something this massive if he weren’t confident he could devour the entire land whole.

And then, suddenly—

“You worry too much.”

A familiar voice came from behind.

“Chief!”

Bolton turned, a glimmer of relief flashing across his face.

It was Cody, the Rayon Magic Association Branch Manager and a third-class mage, walking toward him.

If they could enlist his help, taking down Jack might actually be possible.

“You’ve heard the news, right?”

“Of course. Why else would I be out here in the square this late?”

“Killer Jack has finally gone off the deep end. He unleashed undead in the square as if he’s lost all reason.”

“The square’s in shambles. It’s going to be a nightmare to restore it.”

“This isn’t the time to talk about restoration. First, we need to deal with Jack in front of us. Can you lend us a hand?”

Bolton gestured toward Aiden with his eyes.

Cody glanced at Aiden before letting out a faint chuckle.

“Why should I?”

“How can you even say that? The town’s in danger! This is the time to step up and help.”

“Hmm.”

Cody paused for a moment, then spoke meaningfully: “If you ask me, Jack seems to be the one who needs help.”

*  *  *

Jack, who had been perched atop the clock tower, landed gracefully on the ground below.

From eavesdropping on the guards’ conversation, he learned that the young man standing before him was named Aiden.

“I ran into that raven familiar earlier. Looks like you’re its master.”

Aiden nodded silently in response.

“You’ve got quite the talent for handling daggers. Honestly, I was impressed.”

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Jack clapped his hands, laughing merrily.

Though his slaughter had been interrupted, he found himself in an oddly good mood.

After all, true masterpieces of art were always born out of adversity.

Jack couldn’t suppress the excitement coursing through him at the thought of the grand “painting” he would create after tonight.

In his mind, the composition was already taking shape.

“Are you with the Thieves Guild?”

“Why? Would that change anything if I were?”

“Just curious. Every thief I’ve met so far has been utterly pathetic.”

“If all you meet are pathetic thieves, maybe the problem is you.”

“You insolent whelp…”

Jack’s brow furrowed deeply.

Though Aiden was undoubtedly strong, he wasn’t someone Jack considered his equal.

The dark mana Jack had used to summon the undead accounted for only 30% of his total power.

His strength was still brimming, more than enough to crush someone like Aiden.

“Why do you kill people?” Aiden asked nonchalantly.

“Because death is art. People are so ignorant of death. No, they don’t even try to understand it.”

“……”

“But isn’t that foolish? Humans are destined to die, one way or another. My killings are a way to make them realize that death is always by their side.”

“……”

“So you see, I’m a pioneer of death and an artist of its beauty.”

Jack shared his philosophy for once, but Aiden’s reaction was unexpected.

Most people would have hurled insults upon hearing such madness, but Aiden remained silent.

“You don’t think I’m insane?”

“Not particularly.”

“And why is that?”

“Because your life is yours to live as you please. It’s not my place to interfere.”

“You’re like me, aren’t you? You’re desensitized to death. Only someone who contemplates it daily would have such an attitude.”

Jack felt an unusual sense of camaraderie with Aiden.

It was the first time he’d encountered someone so calm and outspoken in the face of his presence.

“Become my assistant. It’s far too soon for you to join death’s embrace.”

“That’s impossible.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because deciding who lives or dies isn’t up to you… it’s up to me.”

Jack burst out laughing at Aiden’s audacious reply, clutching his stomach.

“What a piece of work you are.”

Aiden, however, continued without a hint of amusement: “Mind if I ask you something?”

“By all means.”

“You call yourself an artist of death. Have you ever thought about your own death?”

“My death? And who, pray tell, would dare kill me?”

A smirk played on Jack’s lips.

Killing him would require at least a full unit of holy knights, and even they wouldn’t stand a chance.

They were slow and cumbersome—easy prey for him to outmaneuver.

“So, you don’t know anything about death after all,” Aiden spoke calmly.

“When a person dies, they go through five stages. Let me show you those stages firsthand tonight.”

“Kekeke. You, kill me? Even if the heavens collapsed, that wouldn’t happen. Look at you, climbing higher and higher on your high horse.”

Dark, ominous energy began to emanate from Jack’s body.

He unleashed his dark aura, the oppressive force spreading rapidly.

Yet, Aiden didn’t so much as blink.

Instead, he added one last line, almost mockingly: “You’re doing well so far. The first stage of death is denial.”
 

To be continued

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