The assassin heard Witt’s interrogation. His dull eyes regained clarity. He grinned, revealing blood-stained teeth, and spat hard on Witt’s pant leg.

“Spit! You bastard don’t deserve to know my boss’s noble name!”

Despite unbearable pain and immobility, the assassin remained defiant. He lifted his head high toward Witt.

Witt slapped his face. The proudly raised head instantly dropped.

Witt said, “Last chance.”

“You answer whatever I ask.”

“Who’s your boss?”

The assassin turned away nonchalantly, refusing to look at Witt or answer.

Seeing his defiance, Witt wasted no words. He stomped down, crushing one of the assassin’s balls.

Earlier, no torture had drawn a cry from him. Now, his eyes bulged like a dead fish’s. His mouth clamped shut.

He opened his mouth to scream—but Witt struck his waist with a magic-forged skull hammer. No cry escaped. He lay motionless.

His spine was shattered. If he might have survived before, now he’d never move again.

Witt knew this cruelty was necessary. This unknown man had targeted Kaelxi. Rooting out the assassin and his boss was vital. Kaelxi’s safety depended on it.

For Kaelxi’s happiness, Witt didn’t mind blood on his hands. He’d be the executioner.

The assassin knew death was near. Hiding John’s identity was pointless now. No one would avenge Boss John. He was the mine’s last member. The boss was dead. Telling this guy meant nothing. At least the sadist might grant a quick end.

Weakly, he spoke: “My boss is John. John Shield.”

Witt recalled John’s dying claim: he’d sent assassins for Kaelxi. But Kaelxi denied seeing anyone suspicious. Witt had dismissed it as a bluff. Now, facing the real assassin, he shuddered. Without him, how cruelly would Kaelxi have died?

Rage consumed him.

He gripped the assassin’s neck, lifting him up. His murderous glare pinned the crippled man. “Why won’t you leave her alone?”

“John’s dead. Kaelxi no longer works for him. Why pursue her?”

“Would you die if she lived peacefully?”

Though badly hurt, the assassin’s mind was clear. He frowned. “What? When did that Elf woman ever serve Boss John?”

Witt’s fingers tightened, sinking into the neck veins. He sneered, “Don’t play dumb. Kaelxi told me everything.”

“I’ve known all along!”

“You forced her to impersonate guards, collecting city entry fees.”

“You made her steal wallets. Strong outsiders? Tricked into mine slaves!”

“Even I lost my wallet. Almost sold in!”

“You threatened West District beggars. Her neighbors’ lives!”

“John was a vile noble. You’re his disgusting lackeys, tyrannizing residents!”

“Kaelxi’s kind. She’d embrace darkness to protect others!”

“Your crimes are beyond counting!”

Hearing Witt’s praise for Kaelxi and rage at nobles, the fading assassin grew bewildered.

“Wait! Stop!”

“We never forced that Kaelxi.”

Witt snorted. “Still lying? I’m not that stupid.”

“Your lies won’t save you. Die.”

*Angel. Kaelxi’s an angel. Angels don’t lie.*

Witt prepared to crush the throat—but the assassin panicked first.

“No! We never forced her!”

“We don’t even know her!”

He wasn’t revealing truth. He just hated dying confused.

Witt’s disdain deepened. He jerked his chin: *Continue.* He’d see what wisdom this henchman could offer.

“I tracked you both these days,” the assassin gasped. “She still collects entry fees daily.”

“Yesterday, she stole a merchant’s wallet!”

“Bullshit!” Witt snapped.

Tears welled. “It’s true! We’d never slaughter West District beggars!”

“Our mine slaves? Chosen from beggars. Smuggled from the West District.”

“Kaelxi crippled that trafficker. Threw him to the beggars.”

“You said you were sold to the mine?”

“Wasn’t Kaelxi impersonating him who sold you?”

Witt scoffed. “Kaelxi’s ordinary. How’d she beat a trafficker?”

The assassin roared, “You fool! You’re deceived too!”

“She’s a Rogue!”

“How else did she steal your wallet, idiot?”

“You’re a Bronze-class Rogue!”

Witt froze. He’d overlooked that. How *had* Kaelxi run so fast?

Seeing Witt hesitate, the assassin grinned. Blood-coated teeth gleamed. He mocked, “Fool! What a fool!”

“You don’t know her truth!”

“You don’t realize you’re used!”

“She only wants you to destroy the mine!”

Doubt shook Witt. Why lie about being a Rogue? Had she distrusted him all along?

He shook his head. “Kaelxi wouldn’t use me.”

“She’s kind. Compassionate.”

“Daily, I help the poor with her. I know her better than you.”

The assassin stared, stunned by such self-deception. He’d never seen a fool this deep.

“She helps beggars to scam better.”

“How’s that scheming woman kind?”

“You’re the type who counts coins after being sold.”

Silent now, choked by Witt, he knew death neared. He glared with bitter disappointment, waiting.

*Crack.* Witt snapped his neck. He hurled the corpse down.

He walked toward Kaelxi’s cottage, muttering.

“I don’t believe it... I don’t believe it...”

He couldn’t accept the girl he’d fought for, sworn to protect, nearly died for—had lied from the start.

“I’ll ask Kaelxi myself.”

“Expose this assassin’s filthy lies.”