At the cost of nearly eighty naval lives, Kain finally broke through the front gate with Federo and escaped the courtyard, which was crawling with ambushers. By then, only a dozen or so soldiers remained at their side.
Every one of them was wounded to some degree, and their blood was something even the torrential rain couldn’t wash away. The group was nearing its limit, but the Black Crow Society assassins who’d caught on to what was happening were still swift and vicious as a pack of wolves.
It was a twenty-minute walk from the ballroom to the estate entrance. Along the way lay fields of wheat nearly chest-high, puddles that reached above their ankles, and darkness so thick and deep they couldn’t see a thing.
No one knew whether deadly traps had been laid in that darkness.
As for the wide road meant for carriages, Kain hadn’t even considered it. With this band of wounded, battered soldiers and an old man who could barely walk, they had no chance of losing their pursuers.
It seemed they’d reached a dead end.
Kain looked back at the dark, terrifying hall in the downpour, at the shifting shadows within, and thought in silence.
Making it out of the hall with fewer than a hundred sailors, despite the Black Crow Society’s plot, was already a miracle. If that pirate captain hadn’t reaped lives like the Grim Reaper, they never would’ve made it this far.
Captain… where are you now?
Kain wondered without thinking, then paused. He let out a sigh, his feelings inexplicably heavy. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he’d started to rely on that young woman.
The way she’d laid out everything she knew about the Black Crow Society, her overwhelming combat ability against the Manticore, and the calm confidence with which she’d given him orders earlier—it was as if any storm would quiet down as long as she was by his side.
That wasn’t a good sign.
Kain pushed his tangled thoughts aside and turned to the old man, who was breathing lightly. “Governor, take Major General Meri with you and hide in the wheat field. Look for a chance to contact the troops stationed outside the estate. I’ll take the rest of them… down the main road.”
Major General Meri was the strongest close-quarters fighter in the naval unit. He’d once been Governor Naren’s personal guard captain, which was why Federo had chosen him to accompany him to the ball.
Kain’s plan was clear: make himself the bait and draw the assassins’ attention, protecting the old man’s life in the process.
In the night, the rice fields looked like a lightless sea. Before Federo became the Dark Governor, he’d been one of the Empire’s foremost spies and assassins. A field like this was as good as home to him.
Major General Meri, meanwhile, could make up for much of the fighting ability the old man had lost with age. So even if the Black Crow Society had anticipated this and hidden assassins in the fields, waiting for them, the two of them might still be able to handle it together. But…
Whether Federo and Meri survived the eerie rice fields or not, Kain’s group, serving as bait, was all but certain to die.
Unless they had five hundred fully equipped ground troops, no one could stand against more than a hundred assassins skilled in killing in the dark.
Trading the Lion of the Empire’s life for a chance to keep the Dark Governor alive would be an agonizing choice for the Empire’s upper ranks. But to Kain, there was no choice to make at all.
It was what his father had taught him. It was a soldier’s instinct.
“Kain, you really are like your father. Once you’ve made a decision, you don’t need anyone else’s opinion. That’s good. Naren once crossed the oceans by sheer force of will. But…”
Federo gave a soft cough in the cold wind. The man who’d ruled over the Empire’s dark side for decades was truly old now—old enough to need someone’s help to escape. Yet even in this desperate situation, his emerald-green eyes, strange and ghostly as a serpent’s, still gleamed with a piercing cold light.
“That can be lonely. You’ll lose a lot along the way. So sometimes, I hope you’ll listen to the people around you. Maybe then, things won’t end the way fate seems to have decided. Do you understand, my Little Lion?”
As if he were lecturing him, Federo met Kain’s eyes. “This time, let an old man handle it.”
Kain was silent for a moment. “I won’t let you die. Otherwise, how could I face my father… or myself?”
Federo smiled in satisfaction but said nothing. He gestured for the young man to let go, then slowly took two steps forward, leaning on his cane. One by one, shadows passed over the courtyard wall and appeared in his weathered eyes. His gaze was utterly cold, as if he were looking at the dead.
“Even without Ivan’s secret letter, I was ready to have a good time with the Black Crow Society. I’m old, and I don’t have many years left. If I can drag their one surviving elder down to Hell with me in my final moments, that’s the best deal I could ask for.”
Federo folded his hands together and gently rubbed the pitch-black, lightless gemstone ring on his finger. His voice was as calm as if he were discussing something that had nothing to do with him.
“But what surprised me was that you showed up on this island—with a…”
The old man paused, then smiled. “A young lady from the Anderson family? You exposed the Black Crow Society’s secret scheme, gave me the clearest information I could ask for, and bought me enough time to deal with this unexpected betrayal. If I still can’t win this war after all that, how could I ever stand shoulder to shoulder with that man?”
“Besides, the Black Crow Society has countless informants in the Empire, along with hidden agents buried too deep to root out. So of course the Empire has some of its own.”
Blades gleaming with cold light cut through the rain, illuminating the sailors’ pale but resolute faces.
The assassins, swift as hawks, splashed through the puddles. Those at the front were already within ten paces. In just a few breaths, the Empire’s most terrifying old man and its youngest rising star would be dead beneath their blades.
But that tiny stretch of ground became an uncrossable chasm.
Blazing light tore through the night. Silver-gray lead shot shattered the cold rain, and a deafening roar drowned out even the thunder.
Rows of figures suddenly rose from the eerie rice fields. They weren’t assassins the Black Crow Society had hidden in advance, but the Imperial Army’s finest riflemen!
The sheets of rain threw off their shots, and the howling wind wrecked their accuracy. But within ten meters, these black-powder firearms were still deadly weapons, able to take lives with the authority of a god.
At last, the Black Crow Society’s blades were broken.
The dozen or so assassins at the front had no time to react before the concentrated volley riddled them with bullets. They crumpled helplessly, blood spilling from every bullet hole and running all the way to Federo’s boots.
One volley had taken out enemies it would once have cost them hundreds or even thousands of times more to kill. But the old man’s expression didn’t change. With the rustle of wheat against uniforms, the first line of riflemen quickly fell back, replaced by the next line, ready to fire.
The Black Crow Society assassins reacted the instant the rifles fired. Aside from the dozen or so who couldn’t dodge in time, the rest scattered into the darkness, giving the enemy no further chance to shoot.
If nothing unexpected happened, the outcome of the battle still wouldn’t change once the assassins used the rain as cover to close in on the riflemen—or even made it right into the wheat field. But then, from a shadowy corner, the clash of countless blades rang out.
It sounded like the harsh gnashing of wolves. And at last, the rabbits they’d been hungrily waiting for had arrived.
