Chapter 9: The Assassin’s Canvas

The assassin must know how to draw.

Of course, this doesn’t mean to draw with paint or anything like that.

Drawing refers to every process that unfolds in the act of assassination.

It starts with knowing who the target is, imagining how they will move and react, and planning the optimal assassination strategy in one’s mind.

Of course, this plan isn’t limited to just one or two; it considers dozens of scenarios at most.

After that comes the uncertain waiting. Sometimes it lasts a few hours, other times it stretches for days.

When the moment finally arrives, the instant that overlaps with the image I’ve repeatedly envisioned in my mind, I absolutely cannot miss it.

I don’t even entertain the thought of failure. For an assassin, failure means only death. In fact, if I can die, then that’s fortunate.

Of course, if I’ve taken the target’s life, then the cleanup afterward must be flawless.

All of this is part of the assassination process. If any one of these conditions isn’t met, it’s not assassination, but simply murder.

In that sense, I am already disqualified as an assassin.

Not only did I fail to understand my opponent, but the plan to draw him in was clumsily executed.

Fortunately, the duel proceeded in some way, but the assassin, who should never be swayed by emotions, acted emotionally.

The cost was rather high.

Had I been in perfect condition, it might have been different, but the losses from the previous four duels were not insignificant.

Instead, forcing a quick resolution has left me more exhausted than usual.

Originally, I could have aimed for an easy victory, but the fight has already become messy.

Thwack!

The moment I dodged the swinging sword, he grabs my hair. And according to his grip, my head is pulled.

It’s a dangerous situation as the sword swings toward my dragged body, but I utilize the pulling force to narrowly evade the sword and deliver a kick.

If I were still in my previous form, it would have been impossible, but with my newfound agility as a woman, I manage to move with almost acrobatic finesse.

Thud!

Feeling a fair amount of shock, I quickly escape from the street, seizing the moment when he slightly loosens his grip on my hair.

My head still throbs, but thankfully, it hasn’t been pulled out.

Phew.

Have I regained enough composure to think such useless thoughts?

I take a moment to catch my breath and throw out a comment.

“You claim to be a noble, yet your dirty deeds are nothing but the actions of a back-alley thug.”

“Hah, dirty? Thug? Where’s the dirt? Class 2 is a jungle. If you’re weak, you just stay crumpled.”

The expression of Selene, visible behind him, doesn’t seem to deny his words.

“Survival of the fittest, huh? Let me show you who the weak one is.”

I charge at him. The longer I delay, the more unfavorable it becomes for me. My muscles scream in protest, but I push through the discomfort, swinging my sword repeatedly to increase my speed.

In response, he naturally adopts a defensive posture. Knowing that I’m pushing myself, he likely thinks that if he can just deflect this attack, an opportunity for a counterstrike will come.

His foot slightly retreats. I take an extra-long step and stomp down hard on his retreating foot.

There shouldn’t be any pain. But for a brief moment, an unexpected opening appears. Just a tiny gap.

It’s not enough space to swing my sword. In that case, I’ll widen the gap.

I move in excessively close to him, aiming for a position to steady myself.

Bam!

And then my head collides upward with his face. The skull, one of the hardest bones in the human body, makes a rather useful weapon.

I may have called it dirty or thug-like, but I am actually more accustomed to such fighting.

With his tangled steps and the sudden shock to his face, his body naturally collapses backward.

Even in such a situation, I swing my sword, trying to find a way out.

Clang!

With my posture crumbling, there’s no power behind the swing. His sword flies off into the distance.

And my sword…

Thud!

It narrowly passes beside his fallen neck and embeds itself in the ground.

With my heightened senses, I feel him trying to move, so I subtly angle my sword toward his neck.

Drops of blood begin to trickle from his neck. His arm, which had been moving, comes to a halt in an awkward position.

My long hair, leaning forward, blocks the view of my surroundings, and I face his expression of disbelief one-on-one.

Then, I smile at him.

“If you move, you die.”

A small voice that only he can hear.

“Stop!”

As Pelches shouts, I pull the sword out of the ground and put it back in its sheath.

Normally, in a duel, it wouldn’t be a problem to take a life (at least on the surface), but at that moment, his family wouldn’t just sit back.

My ‘Frentz’ still exists only in name, and nothing else, so taking his life is nothing but a burden.

“Elysia, since you don’t seem to have any intention of taking a life, let’s end this with your victory. I, along with everyone here, am a witness, so you can request anything as compensation for his life.”

I glanced at the ugly sight of him lying there.

“Honestly, I feel like even the value of such a third-rate life would just dirty my hands further.”

Then I turned my head to look at Selene.

“May I say just one thing?”

Our eyes meet. Selene is a powerful figure at a level I have yet to reach. It’s undoubtedly a reckless move, but—

“The professor’s survival of the fittest is nothing special.”

I smiled, raising just one corner of my mouth. It was an obvious mockery.

It was behavior that no one would consider appropriate towards someone in a higher position, and it simply marked me as a spoiled pup who doesn’t know fear.

I was also prepared to take a stab from Selene if need be. I was just thinking that he wouldn’t kill me.

However, Selene’s actions displayed something I hadn’t anticipated.

“Kuh… haha…”

Suddenly, he chuckles without caring about the surrounding gazes.

Both I, the person involved, and Pelches, who had moved to stop him, along with the other students surrounding us, all looked at Selene with bewildered expressions.

“Hah…”

After an unknown amount of time spent laughing, Selene finally catches his breath and faces me again.

“So, are you saying my educational policy is wrong, and according to your words, I should send away your precious friend?”

I shrugged my shoulders and replied.

“Isn’t it more appropriate to say that since I’m not the strongest in the class, yet I’ve defeated all five of Professor Pelches’s students, at least his educational policy should be more correct?”

This is the justification I’ve forced upon myself. Honestly, it’s a flimsy excuse. If Selene chooses to dismiss it, it’s over.

“What will you do, Professor Pelches?”

“At the very least, I cannot ignore my student’s opinion.”

“Kuh kuh… Alright, it’s a bit lacking, but considering your efforts, let’s go with your idea about Yuri… Wait a moment?”

Suddenly, Professor Selene strokes his chin, nodding several times as if deep in thought.

“How about you coming to Class 2 instead? That way, you can naturally help Yuri from the side.”

Selene proposed this in reverse. Of course, if Yuri comes to Class 1 instead, I can eliminate the bullying directed at her in Class 2.

However, Selene is already someone I have a grudge against. Why should I bother with such a situation?

But before I could utter a word of refusal—

“No!”

Celian suddenly stood up from the group of students watching us and shouted.

Feeling the gaze of those around her, her face began to flush, as if she hadn’t thought or acted on her own.

“Th-That’s… since El won, I think it’s right for Atileah to come over instead of El going over…”

With a face as red as a tomato, Celian spoke in a small voice, contrasting with her usual calm demeanor, and then sat back down.

She then buried her head in her knees and couldn’t lift her face.

After a brief silence, I opened my mouth.

“I have no intention of going to Class 2, as Celie said. I don’t like the teacher.”

At my words, Pelches covered his face as if he didn’t know what to do, while Selene clutched his stomach, laughing heartily, before finally stopping and speaking up.

“Hehe… Alright. Let’s move Yuri to Class 1 immediately. But if you change your mind, just let me know.”

I’m sure you want to.

As Selene said this, he patted my shoulder a couple of times, then gathered the students from Class 2 and left the training ground.

What remained were the members of Class 1 and Yuri.

I brushed my disheveled silver hair back with one hand and smiled at Yuri.

In response to my smile, Yuri, who had been standing alone, ran towards our side, towards me.

Then, she suddenly buried herself in my arms.

With her head buried in my chest, she held onto me tightly for a long while.

It seemed she had many things she wanted to say, but instead, I just hugged her back.

It felt like my chest was getting damp, and although Yuri was shaking, I simply patted her back… until I felt something snag inside her clothes, so instead of patting, I gave her a gentle tap.

“Try not to hate Professor Selene too much. He ended up in that situation by chance; he’s actually a good guy.”

Before I knew it, Professor Pelches had come up beside us and spoke. Even in that moment, Yuri was still nestled in my arms.

“Anyway, I and Professor Selene will handle the procedure for Yuri, so don’t worry. I’ll take the other students in first, so come in once things settle down.”

“Class 1, gather!”

With Pelches’s shout, the other students lined up in front. Pelches took the other kids and moved aside first.

It was a little scary to see Celian turn her head towards me without looking ahead as she walked away into the distance… but that just means she is worried about Yuri.

Anyway, I guess things have been resolved fairly well. I hugged Yuri, who was crying in my arms, once more.