The World Is Mine For The Taking

We had been waiting for a while, and finally, just as Veronica's information said, the person appeared.

My eyes scanned over the squad that came with me, their armor faintly glinting under the dim light. I gave a quick gesture with my hand, a silent order telling them to stay where they were. We'd approach her slowly and carefully. She wasn't someone we could just recklessly rush into.

I signaled again, my palm flat, telling them to hold until I gave the go.

But then, one of them moved—ignoring me completely.

Of course.

None of them liked me in the first place.

The knights weren't fond of me for one simple reason and that was that I hadn't gone through the same path as them. They all graduated, trained, and bled their way through the academy to earn their place. As for me... I was pushed straight into the role of a magic knight, not because of hard work in their eyes, but because Veronica recommended me.

And Veronica wasn't loved either. She had also bypassed the traditional path and rising to her position without even attending the Gold Class academy that every magic knight was expected to graduate from.

They hated her at first. They looked at her like she was unworthy. But eventually, she proved herself... so much so that they couldn't deny her anymore.

I, on the other hand… hadn't proven anything yet. And so every one of their eyes carried the same weight with doubt, disdain, and a kind of smugness that came with believing they were better than me.

And because of that, they ignored me. They didn't trust me enough to follow orders.

That kind of arrogance was deadly.

If we were dealing with some random thug off the street, maybe it wouldn't matter. They'd overwhelm him with sheer numbers. But this woman—this person—was no thug. She was a predator.

And it cost one of them his arm.

The sickening sound of flesh tearing, followed by his scream, rang out in the air. Blood poured down his armored sleeve, splattering the floor in thick droplets. He collapsed to the ground, clutching the space where his hand used to be.

Lucky for him, there were magic knights who could knit bone and flesh back together. If not for that, he'd spend the rest of his life staring at a stump where his hand once was.

"Heh…?" The woman finally spoke, her voice calm, almost playful. "It seems someone really capable suddenly decided to come and ask me something."

The woman in question—the one we came for—was Elise Eclair.

Leader of a notorious organization of women assassins.

She stood there, being calm and collected with her presence sharp like a blade pressed against your throat. She wasn't just dangerous.

She was the embodiment of death walking in human form. They said she could kill with nothing more than a flick of her fingers. Looking at her now, I believed it.

As I watched her, my eyes caught them... The thin, gleaming strands stretched out around us, almost invisible to the naked eye. They ran across the room, crisscrossing the space, tangling around the knights who had moved carelessly.

They didn't even notice. But I did. And it sent a chill running through my spine.

All she had to do was twitch her wrist, and those strings would tighten, slicing them apart like meat on a butcher's table. She could shred them all before they even knew what killed them.

A woman like her… she wasn't just dangerous. She was lethal.

"Oh? You can see my strings?" Elise tilted her head slightly, a smile tugging at her lips. "Impressive. I never would've guessed you had eyes sharp enough for that."

So the others hadn't realized. That's why she was so infamous and as to why victims never knew how they died. They couldn't even see the blades that cut them down.

If she so much as waved her hand, this bar would be painted red in an instant.

While I was focused on her, movement caught my eye. The bartender behind her suddenly lunged, wrapping his arm around her and pressing a knife against her throat.

"I thought so…" Elise said, her tone almost bored. "So you're the one who sold me out, huh?"

She didn't flinch. Not a single ounce of fear. She acted as though the cold steel biting into her neck was nothing more than an inconvenience.

"You know the rules in the underground," the bartender sneered. "Live dirty, and you survive. We're paid to do dirty work, and betrayal? That's just part of the game." He pressed the blade harder against her skin. "Don't blame me. They promised me a hefty sum to turn you in. So I think it's only fair I take it. Don't you?"

"I see…" Elise's voice was still calm, almost amused. "Well, I don't blame you at all. Just… don't blame me either when you get killed."

That's when I saw it.

There was a flash at the edge of my vision. A glint of silver, almost invisible, connected to his fingers.

Her strings.

Before he even realized what was happening, Elise flicked her hand.

The bartender screamed. His fingers split clean from his hand, flying through the air before hitting the ground with a wet slap.

"Urk…!"

"Thankfully," Elise said, watching him writhe, "I still have a little sympathy for you. Your beer really is delicious, after all."

He crumpled to his knees, clutching his bloody, fingerless hand, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Now then…" Elise's eyes slid back to me. Her smile widened. "Shall we dance? You can all come at me if you like. It doesn't matter—I'll kill every last one of you."

"Don't move!" I barked at the knights.

They froze, startled by the tone of my voice.

Right now, they were caught in her web. Every step as well as every twitch of a muscle would only make it worse. If they moved, she'd tear them apart.

"If you don't want to die, then don't move. Not a single step," I said coldly, my voice cutting through the tension.

Finally, they seemed to understand. They held their ground, rooted where they stood with sweat dripping down their faces.