"If my memory does not fail me… I have never seen you before." Morisson’s voice grew grave as the surroundings fell silent and cold.
"Who are you?"
Xian smirked, expecting a show to unfold. Whatever answer the coachman gave now, he would remain under Morisson’s scrutiny.
"Ahaha, this is only a misunderstanding, Head Butler. I am a friend of the previous coachman. He was feeling unwell, so he asked me to replace him at the last moment."
"Is that so?"
There was no chance such an excuse would satisfy the head butler. In his line of work, once suspicion took root, it spread like wildfire through dry grass.
"Then he will pay with his life for abandoning his duty." Morisson stepped toward the coachman. "When I return, I will see that he receives the appropriate punishment, and carry out yours this very moment."
Xian knew the head butler was inventing consequences on the spot. Had such a rule truly existed, no one would have remained in the household, much less dared to work there.
"Ah? Are the rules truly that strict in this household?" The coachman spoke with the same carefree manner, though he no longer bothered to maintain his façade. "Either way, you already seem determined to punish me, Head Butler."
Without hesitation, he shot across the distance between himself and Carmillia, intending to kill her before anyone could react.
A sudden flash stopped his hand just before it reached her.
A slim knife, no different in appearance from an ordinary dining utensil, had pierced his palm and pinned his hand in midair.
Red Aura flared around his hand. He clenched his hand around the knife and wrenched his arm back just as the katana-wielding swordmaiden slashed through the space he had occupied.
A crescent of black light tore through the air and carved a deep gash into the estate’s towering wall.
Despite the high noon sun, the shadows beneath the walls, the carriage, and every living body stretched toward one another. They joined beneath Morisson’s feet and spread across the estate as a single black field. Color drained from the surroundings until only gray and black remained, while the surrounding noise sank into a distant, suffocating hush.
For an instant, the abrupt loss of color and environmental noise made Xian feel as though every sense had vanished.
The familiar terror of regression seized him.
By the time the sensation passed, the coachman was already sprinting through the shadowed estate with Morisson’s knives in pursuit. Morisson stamped one foot against the ground and came to a complete stop.
In the previous regression, the coachman had barely defeated the swordmaidens and killed Carmillia, though it had cost him his life.
This time, Morisson’s presence had changed everything. Rather than trying to finish his mission, the coachman chose to flee, but no matter how fast he ran, the darkness clung to him.
The coachman glanced back and saw his own shadow stretched unnaturally across the ground. At its far end stood the emaciated old man, his feet unmoving while dark threads bound the stretched shadow in place.
'I see. My shadow’s been grabbed, huh?' The coachman grinned in disbelief.
"Haah. You’re really not going to let me leave, are you?"
Morisson gave no answer as eight daggers floated before him. Despite resembling ordinary table knives, darkness gathered along their edges. Xian recognized them at once.
Important characters in the game often possessed unique weapons that raised their strength by leaps and bounds. Morisson was already a nearly complete character, someone who had endured his own tribulations and reached the later stages of his growth.
Once all eight daggers appeared, his opponent’s death was no longer a mere possibility, it signified the certainty of his opponents demise.
The fake coachman narrowed his eyes in disbelief. Seeing those weapons, he understood that he would not leave the estate alive.
"Might as well go out with a bang!"
If he was going to die, he would give everything he had against the infamous butler of House Montagne, a man feared throughout the world of filthy nobles.
He bit down on a pill, and his Aura erupted in violent red.
Aura was the power used by Warrior-class characters. Xian knew that much from the game’s lore, along with the Skills, Passives, and Traits built around it.
What he did not understand was how Aura actually functioned beneath those visible effects.
The coachman’s explosive red Aura amplified his movements until even a light strike could break bones. At the same time, it reinforced his body enough to endure the force produced by his own attacks. That was why Warrior characters depended so heavily upon physical training.
As for Morisson, Xian understood even less.
The game presented his ability as shadow control, but the mechanics beneath it had never been properly explained. Veteran players and theory-crafters argued over it endlessly, while the developers remained elusive after the game’s release and never held proper question-and-answer sessions.
Xian only knew that Morisson’s power consistently ranked among the players’ top picks for the deadliest powers in the game. Controlling shadows might be a clichéd power, but Morisson put it to use uniquely.
Eight blades hovered in the air, spinning as they danced in unison. One of them shot toward the coachman at blinding speed, and he met it with his fist. A tearing explosion erupted upon impact as clouds of dust rose.
"Hoh? Do you feel no pain at all?" Morisson asked leisurely, his chin slightly raised.
"Hah! The pill numbs the pain, and newfound strength comes knocking!"
The coachman looked down at his hand, now reduced to little more than a mangled lump of flesh.
His Aura allowed his body to function as both a weapon and a shield, yet Morisson’s knife had destroyed his left hand with ease.
The two swordmaidens followed with coordinated attacks aimed at his arms and legs, while a second knife flew toward him too quickly for him to evade. He raised the elbow of his already ruined arm and took the blow there instead.
The impact flung him backward. He twisted into a somersault to lessen the force and regain his footing. With the two swordmaidens closing in from either side, he decided that he would at least take one of them down. If only to leave a slight crack in the villainess’s defenses and pave the way for those who would come after him.
After taking another knife strike to his left arm, he used his right arm, his dominant and only good arm, to seize one of the swordmaidens. He dragged the katana wielder off balance, then latched onto her neck with his legs like a monkey.
She struggled and flailed around, but could not shake the coachman off.
Just as he was about to twist her neck with his remaining good arm, he sensed a dagger approaching his head. Its presence was so faint that he had nearly failed to notice it.
Knowing the force behind the daggers that had struck him earlier, he could not afford to take this sneak attack directly.
In his haste, even with his heightened senses, he failed to gauge the dagger’s force and…
He reflected it with ease, shattering half its blade into fragments.
At that moment, he saw a young man with blood-red hair wearing a sinister smile. It was the so-called special butler who had arrived a week ago.
Special, they called him, but he was someone the coachman could kill with a single swing. The man was weaker than even his own daughter had been when she began training in martial arts at ten.
'This fucking—'
The coachman cursed inwardly as he realized the dagger had been a dud.
But that realization came too late. Morisson’s other dagger tore through his torso, robbing his body of all strength and sending him limp to the ground.
Unlike in the previous regression, there would be no tricks or final dying burst. The dagger had shattered his spine, leaving his legs useless and his entire body in shock.
"Cough!" The same katana-wielding swordmaiden from before knelt as she caught her breath. Xian was now convinced that she was the weaker of the two swordmaidens guarding Carmillia.
Soon, the darkness subsided, leaving the assailant bloodied upon the ground with one arm mangled and his torso torn open.
The head butler looked him over and was about to finish the job with another dagger when Xian stopped him.
"May I do the honors, Sir Moris?"
He did not forget to address him with the familiar name used by the other workers in the estate.
"Hm? Then do so." Moris gave a small nod and motioned for him to proceed. Some might question why Xian was being allowed to execute the enemy on the spot, but with wounds that severe, healing him was impossible. Even if it were not, keeping him alive would be far too dangerous.
This was going to be his first kill in this world. Xian knew that. He had never killed anyone before, but wanting to kill someone? He had plenty of people to list in his mind.
The law had never allowed it, and he had not been capable of doing so, but things were different now. This place was not Earth. With enough power, the people here were basically walking targets, and he could do with them as he wished.
Almost holding his breath from nervousness, Xian picked up the dagger he had thrown earlier, half of its blade gone.
Before him lay the man, looking at him with those fleshy eyes.
He hated those eyes the most, the eyes of someone looking at a pitiful, pathetic wretch.
Why had this coachman felt pity for him back then? What hypocritical thoughts had gone through his mind while looking at Xian?
He preferred the honest gaze Carmillia turned toward him, the utterly unmasked contempt in her eyes. At least he did not have to hesitate for that reason.
'You will be my stepping stone.'
He thrust the dagger into the man’s neck with some difficulty. He had to thrust repeatedly before the broken blade pierced the man’s skin and sank into his neck.
That finally did it, and whatever light remained in the man’s eyes disappeared. His mouth hung open, dripping with blood, as the stalk he had been chewing fell into the pool beneath him.
Seeing that the job was done, Morisson turned to Carmillia.
"Please pardon us for the incident. This was all due to my negligence." Carmillia, still as spotless as before, looked at Xian with a strange gaze for a moment before smiling at the head butler.
"It’s alright. I saw quite the fun show today, so I don’t want the tour anymore."
Her smile was infamous for being deadly poisonous to those who did not know better. Young nobles unaware of her reputation would instantly swear their lives to her service, only to end up shattered.
"Instead… when you’re done with the special butler, I’d like to have a talk with him."
"As you wish."
First, the special butler needed to be questioned. He might have helped them, but Morisson still had to determine whether this was a plot by outside powers to gain their trust by betraying an ally.
If Xian proved innocent, a reward awaited him. After that… even Morisson did not know what the young miss had in mind for him.
'She has become far too unpredictable…'
Morisson felt saddened by the twisted girl their young miss had become, but even so, he would remain loyal for as long as he could walk the earth.
Meanwhile, Xian still had not moved from his spot while the conversation between Carmillia and Morisson took place.
[Level up!]
"… Heh."
Author's Note
YuzaiRearu
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