Part 1: Retirement (4)

Aiden returned to his lodging and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

It felt like his body was floating, as if he had used flight magic.

Reality seemed distant.

Retirement?

So abruptly, without any preamble?

The shock was greater than when he received the mission to assassinate the Flame Dragon.

Aiden rubbed his face with both hands, as if trying to wake himself.

He recalled his conversation with the Master.

“Why do I have to retire?”

“Hmm… Come to think of it, this is the first time you’ve ever questioned a mission.”

“This isn’t a mission.”

“When I give you an order, it’s a mission. That includes retirement.”

As expected, the order to retire wasn’t a joke. Fleta’s expression had been dead serious.

Still, Aiden couldn’t accept this so-called mission.

Neither logically nor emotionally—what little of it remained.

“What will you do about SSS-class assassination missions without me?”

“We just won’t take them. Maybe it’s time to lighten the workload. If it’s absolutely necessary, we’ll borrow your skills occasionally.”

“If that’s the case, isn’t there no need to retire me in the first place?”

“There’s a big difference between full-time staff and a freelancer.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

For once, Aiden felt frustration.

Fleta was the smartest person Aiden knew.

So why on earth was he doing something so foolish?

Or… did he have some hidden agenda?

“Don’t use that ability. If you do, you’ll never see me again.”

Just as Aiden was about to use “that ability,” Fleta issued a warning.

As always, he wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

“Aiden.”

“Yes, Master.”

“If I were to order you to take my life, what would you do?”

“If you were serious, I would obey.”

Aiden’s answer came without hesitation.

“Let me ask you the opposite. If I ordered you to take your own life?”

“I would obey that as well.”

This time too, the answer came swiftly.

Aiden had no aversion to taking lives—even his own.

Aiden had no sense of self-love.

Love was for humans.

Aiden was human, but in some ways, he wasn’t.

“Still as cold-hearted as ever. You wouldn’t hesitate to take my life, or even your own.”

“That’s how I’ve survived until now. Isn’t that what you wanted from me?”

He lived because he didn’t care if he died.

And he couldn’t die because he was already dead inside.

That paradox had shaped the current Aiden.

“At some point, you stopped smelling human.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m the best assassin on the continent.”

“Who could I blame or resent? It’s all seeds I’ve sown.”

Fleta let out a short sigh.

The unyielding wall of emotions he had built cracked slightly, revealing a glimpse of torment on his face.

“Aiden.”

Fleta walked over to face Aiden directly. He placed a hand on Aiden’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to overthink it. Just complete this mission as you always do.”

“……”

“This will likely be the hardest mission you’ve ever faced. But I believe you can handle it.”

Though he had much to say, Aiden held his tongue.

He might complain, but in the end, he could only follow orders.

Aiden was a dagger.

A blade that flew wherever Fleta threw it.

“This is your mission directive. Commit it to memory.”

Fleta handed him a neatly folded piece of paper.

The paper was crumpled, suggesting Fleta had been contemplating this for a long time.

As Aiden pocketed the directive, the conversation ended.

Back in the present, Aiden chuckled bitterly.

This “retirement mission” felt overwhelming.

Aiden had never once considered retirement before.

Retirement = Mission Failure = Death.

To Aiden, retirement had always been synonymous with death.

If I’m not an assassin, then what am I?

He had no answer to that question.

Nor could he fathom what to do next.

After a long internal struggle, Aiden reluctantly accepted retirement as his mission.

Not sincerely—it was more like being pushed into it.

‘A mission is a mission. I have to see it through. That’s who I am.’

Aiden pulled out the paper he had tucked into his inner pocket.

Every assassin received their directive alongside their mission. The directive helped outline the mission parameters.

But as Aiden read the contents, his eyes narrowed.

The details were absurd.

*  *  *

On the roof of the Thieves Guild.

Fleta was lounging with his arms behind his head, basking in the sunlight.

He had loved high places ever since he was a child.

When you face something, it feels like a wall. But when you look down, the wall becomes a path.

Perhaps that’s why, even after entering the world of thieves, he sought ever higher positions.

But gazing at the scenery and overseeing the world and its organizations were entirely different.

The former was freedom. The latter was confinement.

Standing at the top, he was shackled by countless things below.

-Won’t you regret this?

A deep voice suddenly resonated.

It wasn’t an illusion.

The voice came from the “Ego Dagger” strapped to Fleta’s waist.

“Regret? Why should I regret anything?”

-Without Aiden, the guild’s dominance will weaken. How will you handle the shifting power dynamics, the secret societies, or the awakening of demons?

The dagger’s tone was laced with thorns.

Its concerns were valid.

Whenever factions across the continent grew too powerful, Fleta had sent Aiden to eliminate key figures.

In that sense, Fleta was the orchestrator, and Aiden, the executioner.

Without his executioner, Fleta’s ability to orchestrate would inevitably diminish.

“If I don’t have teeth, I’ll make do with gums. Did you hear Aiden earlier? He said I’m still capable of defeating Astaroth. I’m still useful.”

-But you’ll never match Aiden.

“Comparing me to Aiden is hardly fair.”

Fleta chuckled.

Only when he was alone with the Ego Dagger did he allow himself to express his emotions freely.

-Aiden is vital, but so are you. If you die during a mission, the continent will descend into chaos.

“I’m not dying anytime soon. Even if I have to grab Death by the pants, I’ll live long.”

-You failed to anticipate your decision to retire Aiden. Why did you make that call so suddenly?

“Well, I’d been considering it for a while…” Fleta trailed off before continuing, “When he mentioned the wheel, my mind snapped, and I made the decision impulsively.”

-An emotional response, then.

“That just proves I’m still alive. No regrets. In fact, it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

Alive, yet not alive—that was Aiden.

Human, yet not human.

Fleta had made him that way.

Unable to resist Aiden’s immense potential, Fleta had pushed him relentlessly.

Looking back, he should have drawn the line somewhere.

At the very least, he shouldn’t have subjected him to “that training.”

After that training, Aiden had died in a way.

-Your training was harsh, but I believe it was justified. You’re largely responsible for Aiden’s strength today.

“……”

-And his overwhelming power has kept the continent at peace, hasn’t it?

“If peace requires one person’s sacrifice, I’d rather see the world destroyed.”

-……

“Damn this cursed continent. Let it burn.”

Fleta spat into the air.

-You’re not yourself today.

“Whatever I do, it’s still me. Don’t try to split me apart.”

The conversation lapsed into silence.

The world below the roof remained as peaceful as ever.

As the day brightened, the city came to life. People and carriages bustled along the roads.

Beyond the horizon, waves rose and fell, while seagulls cawed and soared in the sky.

-Come to think of it, I might be worrying for nothing.

“What do you mean?”

-Aiden will return to the guild. He’s an assassin to his core. He’ll never adapt to a normal life.

“Are you sure about that?”

Fleta shook his head with a faint smile.

“That guy… he’s never failed a mission, you know?”

*  *  *

Daniel’s Tavern.

Beginner assassin Libel was having a conversation with assassination instructor Fathom.

“Is that really true?”

“Do I look like I’m joking with you?”

“That’s not it. It’s just so sudden.”

Libel tilted her head as she responded. She had just heard shocking news.

Her previous instructor, Clark, had left for a long-term mission and wouldn’t be returning for some time.

As a result, Libel would now be trained by Fathom instead.

It was strange.

If Clark was unable to continue training her, he would have given her at least some notice yesterday…

Why so sudden…?

“This is the Guild Headquarters. No one knows when someone might receive an urgent mission and have to leave,” Fathom explained.

“Is that so?”

“You must be pretty fond of Clark. The others were thrilled when I told them.”

“I didn’t dislike Instructor Clark.”

Clark was strict, yes, but his skills were undeniable.

While other trainees disliked him for being too meticulous and overly critical, Libel appreciated his feedback and had grown rapidly by addressing each of his criticisms.

“Take a good rest today. We’ll start training tomorrow.”

“Yes, Instructor. I’ll be in your care.”

Fathom nodded and left.

Libel, now alone at the counter, surveyed the quiet tavern while sipping her beer.

But then…

A young man descended from the second floor to the first.

The moment Libel saw him…

She felt as though her breath had been taken away.

Time seemed to stop.

Why?

Because…

The young man was incredibly handsome.

His silver hair exuded an almost otherworldly charm.

His chiseled, statue-like facial features and strikingly clear eyes made him look like he had stepped out of a painting.

His large, blue eyes held an inexplicable sense of wistfulness and sorrow.

“Who… is that gorgeous person?”

Libel pointed her chin toward the young man and asked Daniel, who was wiping a beer mug at the bar.

“Huh? Who could that be? Did he come in when I wasn’t looking?”

Daniel’s eyes widened as he observed the man.

“Wow, he’s really something. He must be from a prominent noble family. Even a guy like me can’t help but be impressed.”

“He looks like he walked out of a fairy tale.”

Libel couldn’t take her eyes off the young man, her face glowing with fascination.

For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to fall in love at first sight.

“Should I go talk to him?”

“Don’t go stirring up trouble. Besides, you’re just a rookie thief. Now’s not the time to be falling in love.”

“A real thief should be able to steal someone’s heart too. It’s part of the training!”

With that thought, Libel counted to three in her head and approached the young man.

When she blocked his path, the young man stopped in his tracks.

“……”

“……”

The moment their eyes met, Libel froze.

She had prepared something to say, but her lips refused to move. Her cheeks turned bright red.

“Do you need something?”

The young man spoke first, his voice utterly mesmerizing.

It was a perfect blend of softness and huskiness, two qualities that shouldn’t coexist but somehow did.

Was such a thing even possible?

“Um… I… uh…”

“……”

“Would you… have dinner… Never mind!”

Overcome with embarrassment, Libel bolted out of the tavern in a fluster.

The young man watched her retreating figure and shook his head.

“Zero points for observation skills. She didn’t even recognize I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Maybe I should’ve given her a D-rank after all.”
 

To be continued

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