The seat of the ruler of Philos. Peering through the window at the figure of Roseau sitting quietly there, Bruder bent his eyes in a strange way. He wondered, or perhaps he was suspicious. It was strange, how could this be?

　--Roseau was the leader of the enemy, and there were no soldiers around to protect him.

　Roseau was alone, with no clerks or guards to attend to him, just his body in the flickering light. It was as if he was asking for help.

　It was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling.

　A lord or ruler's mansion is normally the largest residence in the city, where appropriate soldiers and attendants stroll about to greet the lord. I don't know the circumstances of the city of Philos, but even so, the fact that the ruler does not have a single bodyguard around him is extremely abnormal.

　If I may say so, not only the surroundings of Roseau, but this ruler's mansion itself was strange.

　Normally, there would be all kinds of guards roaming around the mansion and gardens, but there was no sign of them at the moment. In fact, the place seemed rather empty and lonely.

　The only guards that seemed to be on duty were the gatekeepers and a few clerks and maids. This situation made me think that Roseau might have given up the city of Philos as soon as possible and fled.

　But Roseau still sits in his chair, like this. He shows no sign of moving.

　What are you up to? Bruder's brow twists suspiciously and his eyes narrow. An unformed creepiness settles over his stomach.

　Roseau is a traitor. A traitor is usually a cowardly figure at heart.

　They think that what they can do, others can do. Those who have betrayed someone will play with the fantasy of being betrayed by someone else until they die. That's why most of them have soldiers and guards at hand to serve as weapons.

　However, the situation in this house does not seem to be like that. In fact, it seems that the security system is even thinner than usual. The city, with its extra soldiers on patrol alone, looked better still.

　It was too sloppy to be a trap. Besides, it is hard to understand who they are trying to trap. The time to set a trap is when you know who you are going to kill.

　Then what is this? Bruder bit his lip and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He makes a few assumptions in his mind.

　He squinted a few times, and then lost his mind.

　Let's kill him, that's fine. I don't care what this Roseau guy thinks, what does he have to do with me?

　You can sit here and wonder and run away with your tail between your legs like a fire lizard. You may be branded a fool by your employer for risking your life to enter the city but failing to achieve a single thing.

　I'd hate that. I never thought I had such vanity in me. I've been so preoccupied with my sister, Vestaline, that when I let my mind wander a bit, my thoughts become more human. It's so ugly.

　Bruder exhaled softly. He leaps to his feet, walking along the red brick roof outside the window, right next to the ruler's office.

　He sits down on the bricks and moves closer to the window. The ruler's chair is far enough away from the window, but still close enough that a surprise attack would take him by several breaths. Through the window, I could see Roseau's profile.

　With my long-handle, I could aim at his skull in a single breath even if there was a window. I was confident of my throwing accuracy.

　He bent his fingers lightly. He held the two long needles between his fingers. Then he listens carefully, synchronizes his breathing with the target, kills its existence as if it were melting into the night, and quietly erases its consciousness.

　Bruder had heard somewhere that this was what an assassin did. He didn't know if he was living it, but he was.

　There were a few breaths. Through the window, he could hear Roseau's heartbeat. Bruder felt as if his own body had become the night itself.

　--Huh-uh-uh.

　Before he knew it, it had been released from his hand. The long hand penetrated the window and rode the wind with a minimal sound. The movement of the hand, the way it breathed, the amount of force it applied, it couldn't have been more perfect. Nothing in the world could have avoided it, he was sure of that.

　Bruder hid himself from the window and thought clearly of the long needle piercing Roseau's profile. Surely he would spurt blood without noticing him or the needle. Such a feeling, almost like a prophecy.

　In a few moments, it became a clear reality.

　Bruder's one-handed throw was not something ordinary that Roseau could avoid, at least not in the slightest. Roseau's eyes widened as he greeted the long needle, and the two needles pierced his skull and eyes painfully.

　Thick, reddish-black blood splattered around him, coating his hair and beard. It was more than enough blood for a man to throw away his life.

　Strangely enough, Bruder had caught the feeling of the long needle piercing his hand. Just as a bow and arrow master would feel an arrow pierce his target. The sensation of the needle stirring the skull and brain plasma was certainly at his fingertips. There was no doubt in my mind that Roseau was dying.

　That's why I'm so sure. Bruder turned pale and leapt from the window sill as quickly as he could. He paid no heed to the sound of the red bricks crumbling.

　--Just as he thought the needle had pierced him, he heard a voice inside the room.

"Have you ever heard the voice of God?

　At the same time, the window frame that Bruder had been resting on was strangely lifted up and thrown into the air. It was as if he had been swung wildly by something powerful.



　The sound of shattering glass echoed in the darkness, but it no longer mattered. Bruder clears his throat, something cold, not sweat, dripping down his forehead.

I heard it. I heard it." God said, looking down at me brazenly.

　A voice that crawled on the ground. The voice sounded like a drowning man's, perhaps with blood in his throat, and yet it sounded calm. It was uncanny. It's as if it's not the voice of a living person.

　With his foot on the window sill, Roseau thrusts his body outward. Its appearance is human. Just bones, flesh, and skin. That's all it's supposed to be.

　But what are those long needles sticking out of his eyes and head? What are those eyes glowing in the dark, piercing as if on fire? What is the presence that makes me feel a heavy pressure?

　It's like a demon manifesting itself. It's like a demon... no, like a demon who once made its mark on history. Seeing Roseau's foot down on the brick roof, Bruder took an involuntary step back.

　His thoughts were confused. What to do, what to do, no matter how hard he tried to collect his thoughts, they all disappeared in the turmoil.

　Roseau said, depressingly pulling out the needle stuck in his face.

My enemies are coming here. I'm sorry, assassin, but I'm not dead. The villain is coming here, to die.

　Roseau took a step forward. That's all it took, and the brick bounced off itself. It was as if it had been forcefully crushed by a great mass.

　Bruder's cheeks twitched, his chin tucked, and he said.

"Fine. If I kill you first, then my employer will recognize me.

　And with that, he took a step forward.