(Arin's POV)
The fishy smell of crocodile blood mixed with the stinging aroma of swamp mud assaulted my nose. To an ordinary person, this was a disgusting and nauseating smell. But to me, this was the sweetest scent in the world.
The smell of money.
The scalpel in my hand moved nimbly, separating the hard Osteoderm skin from the flesh tissue beneath with the precision of a surgical maestro. Not a single wasted movement. Every incision was calculated carefully to maintain the integrity of the skin, which was valuable on the black market.
"Fifty gold for belly skin... a hundred gold for intact back skin," I muttered softly, my fingers dancing over the reptile carcass while calculating profit in my head.
My ingrained stinginess, a remnant of hungry days on the harsh streets, could not disappear just like that even though I had become a wealthy Duke's business partner.
Beside me, Rose cleaned her Rapier blade with a silk handkerchief. She looked at me with a mixture of amusement and disgust that was not hidden.
"You really enjoy this part, don't you?" asked Rose, grimacing as I pulled a large sheet of skin with a wet sreet sound that disturbed the ears. "You look happier skinning corpses than winning a duel."
"This is my favorite part after the 'not dying part', Miss Rose," I answered without turning, my focus entirely on the loot. "There, done. One set of flawless skin."
I put the roll of skin into the small dimensional bag lent by Elena. Rose suddenly stood up straight, her posture changing to alert. Her eyes stared sharply into the darker depths of the swamp, where mangrove trees grew so densely that sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy.
"Arin," called Rose softly, her voice containing urgency. "Look at that trail."
I followed her gaze. On the mud surface that rose and fell, a faint but clear reddish-purple slime trail was visible. The trail led into a narrow crevice between giant mossy roots.
"Young Swamp Hydra slime?" I guessed, squinting to see more clearly.
"No. The smell is too sweet," corrected Rose, her nose sniffing the air. Her eyes sparkled with the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter. "That is a blooming Venom Orchid. If it is a venomous orchid, the price could be ten times that of your smelly crocodile skin."
I weighed the risks for a moment. We were deep enough into dangerous swamp territory. Our stamina had not fully recovered after the fight against four crocodiles earlier. But... money was money, and ten times was a tempting number.
"But that gap is too narrow for me," I said, pointing to the tightly intertwined roots. "My Mithril armor is too thick to sneak in there without getting stuck."
"Wait here," decided Rose quickly. She had already stepped forward, her slender body moving agilely on the water surface with Water Gliders. "I will check it myself. Just five minutes. Guard our loot, don't let swamp monkeys steal it."
"Wait, Rose. We shouldn't separ—"
My sentence was cut off in the air. Rose had already shot into the root crevice, disappearing behind the darkness of lush vegetation. Her confidence as a Class S student and future Swordmaster sometimes made her too daring to take risks.
"Five minutes! Don't miss me!" she shouted from afar, her voice fading.
I sighed a long breath, letting my shoulders relax a little.
"Reckless noble," I grumbled softly to the empty air.
I stood alone on a mound of solid mud surrounded by calm murky water.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed drastically.
The buzzing sound of swamp insects that had been filling my ears... stopped abruptly. Crows perched on mangrove branches above me flew away without the sound of flapping wings.
Silence descended, blanketing the swamp. Unnatural silence.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up instantly.
This was not ordinary fear. This was a cold sensation creeping up the spine, the same sensation when I faced the Grizzly Bear or Silver Golem.
The Grizzly Serum instinct in my blood screamed loudly: PREDATOR.
SWISH.
A very subtle sound of fabric friction was heard from four o'clock. Right above the tree that was my blind spot.
My body moved reflexively before my brain had time to process visual information.
I did not look back. Let alone ask "who is there?" I immediately threw my body forward, performing a combat roll on the slippery wet mud.
WHOOSH!
Something cold and sharp sliced the air right where my neck had been a fraction of a second ago. The wind from the slash swept my back hair, leaving a cold feeling on my neck skin.
I rolled quickly, rose on one knee, and turned to face the attacker. My right hand had already drawn the Adamantium sword in a defensive position.
There, standing on the root where I had just stood, was the figure.
Mud camouflage tactical clothing blending with the environment. Face covered by a cloth mask, leaving only a pair of cold emotionless eyes staring straight at me. In his hand, a black Falcata was gripped, a curved assassin sword designed for beheading, not for knightly duels.
He was not a student. He was a professional assassin.
There was no hesitation in his movements, no dramatic pause, no killing intent leaking before the attack. His presence aura was perfectly suppressed. If not for the super hearing from my serum, my head would be rolling in the mud right now.
"Target missed?" he muttered softly. His voice was flat, a tone of technical disappointment, not emotional.
He did not give me time to think or ask. His feet stomped the mud, gliding toward me with a speed that made it difficult for my eyes to follow his shadow.
Shukuchi. High-level assassin footwork that compressed distance.
"Damn it!" I cursed.
I didn't have time to take a perfect stance. I raised the Adamantium sword horizontally chest-high to block the follow-up slash aiming for the heart.
CLANG!
Metal clashed with metal. Sparks flew brightly in the middle of the gloomy swamp.
Heavy.
Very heavy.
The pressure from the Falcata sword did not come from the weapon's weight alone, but from the Aura coating it. The aura was dense, sharp, and... vibrating at a high frequency.
Professional Tier.
My knees wobbled instantly. The mud ground under my feet sank several centimeters due to massive pressure.
"Gkhh!" I growled, holding his sword with both hands with all my might. My arm muscles screamed in pain. My collarbone felt hot, as if about to crack holding the Aura load levels far above me.
The assassin stared at me from behind his mask. His eyes narrowed slightly, analyzing my defense. He rotated his wrist fluidly, changing the angle of his sword pressure to deflect my attack to the side and open my defense.
Technique: Deflecting Guard.
My sword slipped to the side. My chest was wide open without protection.
He sent a fast and hard straight kick to my solar plexus.
THUD!
My Mithril armor withstood physical penetration, but the kinetic impact penetrated into the organs. My ribs creaked painfully. My breath cut off instantly.
I was thrown three meters back, falling rolling in the murky water. The salty taste of blood filled my mouth.
"Target possesses above-average physical endurance. High-class armor. Reaction equivalent to war veteran," analyzed the assassin while walking closer casually. His steps were slow, but his sword was raised, ready for final execution. "Data updated. Target must be eliminated with full force."
I tried to get up, but my lungs spasmed violently.
"Cough!"
Blood spurted from my mouth, staining the swamp water red.
He was already right in front of me. The black sword raised high, ready to separate head from body.
"Sleep well," he whispered coldly.
The sword descended.
I closed my eyes, spurring the Piston Heart for one last desperate move—
TING!
A sharp and loud metal clink broke the swamp air.
The Falcata sword did not touch my neck. The weapon was held in the air, stopped by a long black dagger that appeared out of nowhere.
From the shadow of the mangrove tree beside us, a figure shot out. No, not one.
Three figures dressed in all black, with plain faceless masks, landed around the assassin in a perfect triangular formation. They made no sound, as if they were part of the shadow itself coming to life.
Shadow Servants.
The assassin jumped back with extraordinary reflexes, creating a safe distance from the encirclement. His eyes, previously cold, now showed slight surprise.
"Intervention?" he hissed displeasedly. "Who are you?"
One of the shadows who parried his sword earlier did not answer the question. He just flicked his wrist. Two other daggers slid from his sleeves into his grip, ready for combat.
The fight exploded in the blink of an eye.
This was not a knightly duel full of codes of ethics and respect. This was the dance of death of professional killers.
Fast, silent, and deadly.
The three Shadows attacked simultaneously. The first Shadow attacked from the front, diverting attention with a flurry of quick slashes. The second Shadow slid low targeting the legs, while the third Shadow jumped from the tree trunk, diving from above targeting the head.
Metal clinked clashing in a crazy staccato rhythm.
Clang-clink-clang!
The Assassin was great. He parried the first Shadow's attack, jumped over the second Shadow's leg sweep, and ducked avoiding the third Shadow's ambush. His movements were fluid, efficient, without a single flaw.
But he was outnumbered. And his three opponents had coordination equivalent to one mind split in three.
SLASH!
A scratch appeared on the assassin's arm. Then another on his thigh. Blood began to seep.
He was pressed. The Assassin knew he couldn't win against three elites at once in open combat. His mission had failed. Escaping was priority now.
The assassin parried the combined attack with a Professional Aura explosion, creating a small shockwave that pushed the three Shadows back for a moment.
His hand reached into the tactical pocket at his waist. He threw a small gray ball to the ground between them.
PUFF!
A thick white smoke explosion enveloped the area in seconds.
I, still panting in the water, reflexively covered my nose. But the smell... the smell penetrated my defense.
A sharp sulfur smell, mixed with stinging ammonia and a specific rotten aroma.
My eyes widened. I knew this foul smell.
This was not an expensive military magic smoke bomb. Nor was it Mist of Obscurity used by tower mages.
This was "Hunter's Haze."
A cheap recipe made from dried Goblin dung mixed with pine resin and low-quality gunpowder. The smoke was thick, stinging the eyes, and the smell stuck to clothes for days.
Back when I was still a butcher on the outskirts of the city, I often harvested Goblin dung sacs from hunted carcasses and sold them to...
Bounty Hunters and low-class Mercenaries.
So that was it... I thought, staring at the billowing white smoke. My enemy was not an Academy insider, but from the Underworld. A hired killer.
The smoke began to thin, blown by the swamp wind.
The assassin had vanished without a trace. Even his footprints were invisible; perhaps he jumped through the trees.
The three Shadows did not chase. Their duty was not to hunt, but to protect the asset.
They turned simultaneously facing me. Their pitch-black plain masks stared at me expressionlessly. Their swords and daggers were still drawn, dripping a little blood from the assassin's wounds earlier.
I forced myself to stand, though my knees trembled and my chest hurt terribly. I raised my Adamantium sword, pointing it at them in a defensive stance.
"Who are you?" I asked hoarsely. "Friends or new enemies?"
I must not be careless. In this world, a savior could turn into a kidnapper in the blink of an eye.
One of the Shadows, the tallest and slenderest, stepped forward. He sheathed his dagger with a smooth movement that eliminated killing intent instantly.
His hand raised, then slowly removed his black mask.
Behind the mask, a gaunt face with pale skin, sharp green eyes, and slightly pointed ears was visible. His short silver hair was neatly combed even though he had just engaged in acrobatic combat.
Alfin.
Selena Rhyms' trusted half-Elf servant.
"Lower your sword, Young Master Arin," said Alfin flatly. His voice was calm and polite, just like when he poured tea in the headmistress's office, as if he hadn't just tried to kill someone. "If we wanted you dead, we would have let that person finish his job neatly."
I lowered my sword slowly, but my muscles remained tense and alert. "Rhyms Family Shadow Servants..."
The other two shadows did not remove their masks, but they retreated and disappeared back into the forest dimness, taking guard positions on the perimeter.
"ARIN!"
A panicked shout was heard from the direction of the root crevice.
Rose appeared, gliding on the water with a deathly pale face. She saw the puff of residual smoke, saw me soaked and bleeding, then saw Alfin standing tall.
Rose stopped abruptly, water splashing her legs. Her eyes widened in shock staring at Alfin.
"Alfin?" Rose stared at the servant in disbelief, then switched to me. "What happened?! I felt an aura explosion from there! Who attacked?"
"An uninvited guest," I answered while grimacing, holding my painful ribs. "A Professional Assassin. He used a Falcata and was very fast."
Rose cursed roughly. "Damn it! I left you for five minutes! Just five minutes!"
She rushed to me, checking my wounds frantically. Her hands felt my chest. "You are bleeding... cracked ribs? Damn, forgive me Arin. I was stupid. I shouldn't have left you alone for that stupid flower."
"I am still alive, Rose. Calm down," I said, then took a small bottle from my secret pocket.
Premium Antibiotic Type A. The golden liquid shimmered. I downed it at once. It tasted bitter, but a warm sensation immediately spread to my chest, relieving pain and starting micro-regeneration on damaged tissues.
"Hah..." I sighed a long breath, blood color returning slightly to my face.
I turned to Alfin who still stood silently watching us like a statue.
"So..." I said, staring into Alfin's green eyes. "Since when have you been following us? Since the academy gate?"
"Since you stepped out of the dormitory this morning," answered Alfin honestly without hesitation.
I jolted in surprise. "What? All day?"
"Did you think Lord Duke Rhyms would let his biggest investment, his 'Money Factory', wander into a hunting zone without escort?" Alfin raised his eyebrow slightly, a subtle yet sharp expression of criticism.
Those words slapped my ego harder than the assassin's kick earlier.
"So I am just merchandise guarded by security?" I asked bitterly.
"You are a strategic asset worth billions of gold, Master Arin," corrected Alfin coldly. He walked closer, then pointed to my left chest, where my heart beat.
"But what disappoints me is not the fact that you were attacked. But the fact that you were unaware we were there."
Alfin stared at me sharply, the gaze of a teacher disappointed in his student.
"Three Shadow Servants followed you all morning. We were on the roof when you talked to the gate guard. We were behind the trees when you fought the crocodiles. And you... with all the sharp senses you boast of... did not realize our presence at all."
I could only be silent. He was right that I was too confident in my serum instincts. I felt great because I could detect monsters, but I was blind to true professionals who could hide their presence aura.
"Your reflexes withstanding the first attack earlier were indeed praiseworthy," continued Alfin, his tone softening slightly but remaining sharp. "For a student without mana, that was miraculous. But your environmental awareness? Zero."
"You feel safe because this is school territory. You feel strong because you defeated Gordon. But your enemies now are no longer school children, Master Arin."
Alfin pointed toward the dissipating smoke.
"That person earlier... he was not a cheap hired thug. He was from the Shadow Guild. Vesper and Karl Benzzi have raised the stakes. If we were not here, your corpse would be floating in the swamp right now becoming crocodile food."
I clenched my still-trembling hands. The physical pain in my ribs was incomparable to the shame burning in my chest.
I felt small.
All this time I thought I was a chess player successfully manipulating the Duke, extorting his money, and controlling the situation.
But in reality? I was merely a fragile king's pawn. Without Elena and the Duke's protection, I would have died ten times over. I was still weak like a sewer rat needing to be guarded by a big cat to avoid being eaten by snakes.
"Alfin is right, Arin," Rose's voice sounded soft beside me. She did not mock me. Her face was serious and grim, as if looking at me like looking at her past self.
"You are no longer an ordinary student who can wander around as you please. Our heads have high prices, Arin. Your head now might be more expensive than mine."
Rose touched my shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Welcome to our world. A world where you are never truly alone, because there is always someone who wants to kill you, and always someone who wants to own you."
I brushed Rose's hand off gently, then looked down staring at my reflection in the murky water. My face was pale, bloody, and pathetic.
I lifted my face. Looking at Alfin, then Rose.
"Thank you for the help, Alfin," I said. My voice no longer trembled. There was a new coldness there. "Tell the Duke... his asset is safe and starting to learn."
Alfin nodded respectfully, then took a step back and faded back into the mangrove shadows, disappearing as if he had never been there.
"Let's go home, Rose," I invited, sheathing my sword roughly.
"Arin, are you okay?" asked Rose worriedly seeing my expression.
"No," I answered honestly. "I am angry."
I walked through the swamp water, no longer caring about mud splashes dirtying my expensive armor.
I was angry at my negligence. Angry at my weakness. Angry because I had to depend on other people's shadows just to breathe.
Vesper... Karl... and that masked assassin.
"Sector 9 Dungeon later..." I mumbled softly, my eyes flashing sharp with determination. "Not just an exam."
I would stop being a protected asset. I would become a feared threat. I would ensure Vesper regretted sending his dog after me.
I would become the hunter.