Make Dark Fantasy Great Again-Chapter 31: A Master of the Assassin Guild

An assassin without discipline is nothing more than a murderer.

Assassin guilds each upheld their own creeds and disciplines, strictly adhering to them, and undisciplined assassins failed to earn their respect.

...In that sense, Black Serpent could be considered a very exceptional assassin.

We are the shadows that devour karma. Ego is poison. Beware gold and blood.

Black Serpent was relatively free from the most important discipline for assassins. Some might say she interpreted and followed the discipline very creatively.

Outwardly, Black Serpent lived the life of a high-ranking adventurer, and she didn’t hesitate to indulge her personal desires.

It was certainly not behavior that adhered to the discipline. However, it wasn’t completely against it either. She maintained a life that teetered on the edge of what was acceptable for an assassin.

Of course, if one were to uphold the discipline, such laxity shouldn’t be left unchecked.

The guild took action, attempting to guide her by mobilizing other assassin masters.

Consequently, the guild gained an unexpected insight.

“When did I plant the poison? How foolish of you to ask such a question. Before I answer, I’ll give you a chance to ponder it yourselves.”

The outside world feared each of these masters. However, they discovered that Black Serpent controlled all their lives.

For an assassin, discipline is absolute. But if there was one value free from that discipline...it was absolute power.

Thus, Black Serpent earned the guild’s respect and became more devoted to her ‘adventurer play’.

...All of it was to cure her insufferable and terrible skin disease.

***It felt like a fire on her skin was being extinguished. It was a sensation she had never felt since contracting the skin disease.

Salana immediately took out a mirror to check.

“...”

She carefully touched her face.

“This can’t be...”

Salana had made every possible effort to cure her skin disease. She had traveled across the continent to meet famous healers, priests, and mages. She even personally hired pharmacists and alchemists to commission custom-made cosmetics.

But it had all been in vain. While they could temporarily heal the scars and wounds caused by the skin disease, they couldn’t eliminate the condition itself.

What Risir did was different. Or rather, the opposite. The scars and wounds on her face remained, but the underlying condition had noticeably improved. The terrible dark red color that had stained her skin had slightly faded.

“How...?”

Salana was so stunned she forgot to rejoice. She looked at the man before her—Risir. He was an ordinary man, save for the impression of being ‘kind of cute’.

While his appearance was somewhat aristocratic, he never revealed his family name. Add to that his casual attitude, he was probably a member of a family too insignificant to claim a noble identity.

His level of attainment also matched this ordinariness. The man looked around twenty years old, yet he was at the 3rd rank.

For a commoner, this would have been proof of exceptionality, but for a noble who had grown up with full support from a young age, it was proof of mediocrity. Perhaps inferiority, even.

Most people, including Salana, who had attempted to cure her disease would have seen him that way. Unremarkable. Risir was the kind of person who gave such a first impression to people like Salana.

This unremarkable person had approached her, claiming he could cure her skin disease. It was reasonable for Salana to doubt his intentions and abilities. And yet...

“How does it feel?”

“...Huh?”

Salana snapped back to her senses at Risir’s words. Her expression brightened little by little, until suddenly—Whap! She grabbed his arm.

“How did you do it?!”

Salana was so surprised that she forgot to play the ‘easygoing high-ranking adventurer’. But it didn’t matter much. The assassin master was in such a good mood that she didn’t even need to act.

“...”

However, Risir’s reaction was underwhelming. He spoke with a displeased look.

“If possible, could you tell me how it feels right now?”

“...!”

Salana was startled by Risir’s demeanor.

Why does he suddenly seem so reliable?!

Salana’s previously haughty posture became suddenly respectful. Those who knew her true maniacal nature would have been shocked to see her actually show respect.

“Well done! Uh I mean, I think it’s better! How’d you do it?! Could you tell me?”

Back to her cheerful adventurer persona, Salana gazed at Risir with sparkling eyes.

“It’s better now?”

“...Is there a problem? At least that’s how it feels to me...”

“Actually, your condition isn’t completely cured yet, Miss Salana.”

“...!”

Salana’s eyes snapped wide. She felt saved just by the slight improvement in her condition, yet this man was dissatisfied with the fact that he hadn’t completely cured the disease.

In other words, he was confident of curing it entirely.

“What should I do?! What do you need? Money? Materials? Just name it.”

“...I know it’s rude, but if you could let me touch the affected area once—”

Before Risir could even finish, Salana dropped to her knees and pressed her face against his palm.

“Uh, you don’t need to go that far...”

“Oh, is this uncomfortable? Sorry. I’m just so excited right now, haha...”

Salana stood up, still holding Risir’s hand to her face.

“Better now? How is it?”

Salana pestered Risir like a puppy begging its owner for a walk, but as soon as he started to concentrate, she immediately zipped her mouth.

Following a brief moment of silence...

“Miss Salana?”

“Mhm, I’m listening.”

“By any chance...”

Risir pondered how to convey what he had felt to Salana.

From what he sensed, her skin disease was surely a target for normalization. An abnormal force that reacted to his power was worsening the condition of her skin. This why he expected her skin to be cured if he purified it.

But to his surprise...Salana’s skin disease remained unchanged. More precisely, it was reverting to its original state, as if the recovery had never happened.

It’s like a container connected to a pipe...

Even by emptying the container of its dirty contents, it immediately refilled through the connected pipe.

“Ugh...!”

As if on cue, Salana winced and pulled her face away from Risir’s hand. The wounds that had healed reopened, and sticky discharge flowed out. The discharge wet Risir’s hand.

For the first time, a look of shame appeared on Salana’s face, which had always maintained cheerfulness.

“I’m sorry! Gross, right?! I’ll clean it right away...”

Salana hurriedly took out a handkerchief and wiped Risir’s hand.

The handkerchief looked far too luxurious to be used for wiping mere discharge. This indirectly showed how much care she usually put into her skin.

“...”

She wiped Risir’s palm with an expression contorted by shame. He had to hold back a sigh at the sight. Though he had intended to offer some light help, it seemed the problem wasn’t so simple.

Risir’s gaze drifted towards the alley’s exit. He was worried about Fienne, who would be waiting in front of the inn.

“What’s wrong? Do you have some urgent business?”

Salana’s voice suddenly stole Risir’s attention. In the brief moment he had looked away, her demeanor had changed dramatically.

Though her cheerful expression remained, the light had vanished from her dark red eyes. The desperation of potentially losing the hope she had just grasped broke through the assassin’s composure.

With her persona a mix of the cheerful adventurer and the assassination guild master, Salana stared silently at Risir. Then she looked at their hands, still joined from wiping the discharge.

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Unbeknownst to Risir, he was now infected with Salana’s phantom poison.

Of course, it wasn’t lethal. How could she use such a dangerous thing on someone who might become her savior?

“If you have something more urgent than treating me right now, please tell me.”

It was just a mild poison, strong enough to temporarily rob one’s freedom of movement. Enough to make them reconsider any thoughts of leaving.

“...I do have a prior engagement with my companion.”

“Oh, really?”

Salana’s lips curled into a sinister smile. It’s common fact that assassins aren’t ones for conventional conversation.

They were well aware how unless dialogue was, because they knew two more efficient methods—persuasion, and intimidation.

Normally, Salana would have attempted a patient conversation with Risir as a cheerful adventurer, but she currently lacked the composure for such niceties. Anxious about the possibility of Risir leaving, the assassin quickly concluded the conversation.

It was time for persuasion.

“Guess it can’t be helped then.”

Salana activated the poison, and Risir reacted immediately.

“So, could I perhaps drop by my companion for a moment?”

“?”

He continued speaking, looking straight into Salana’s eyes as if nothing had happened.

“I didn’t intend to go this far originally, but I’ve changed my mind. This is my first time dealing with something like this, and I feel the need to see it through to the end. May I ask for your cooperation?”

“...Uh! C-cooperation! Of course. Of course I should.”

Salana was bewildered. For one, the poison had no effect, and two, she never expected Risir to say somethig like that.

As a master of the Black Hand assassination guild, and as Black Serpent, it was the first time she was every bewildered by someone else.

***“You couldn’t cure her either? Well, I suppose that does takes precedence over our promise. I’ll let it slide this time.”

While Fienne grumbled about the broken dinner promise, she readily accepted Risir’s subsequent explanation.

Salana spoke up then.

“I have to make a quick visit somewhere myself. Would you mind coming along?”

“A visit?”

“Yup. Actually, I had a prior engagement too. I was planning to consult a pair of experts about this damned skin condition.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I held you up didn’t I...”

“Don’t be silly~”

Salana slung her arm around Risir’s shoulders.

“Just like you prioritized me over your girlfriend, I’m prioritizing you now. To be honest, getting your help is probably more helpful than consulting those two. I’m only going to still see them because, well, just in case.”

“Just in case?”

“In case their opinions might be useful to you, Risir.”

“Ah, certainly. I had the same thought. As it happens, I wanted to ask a few questions about your condition.”

As they walked, the surrounding buildings and the attire of passersby dramatically changed. They had left the commercial district where the inn was located and entered the magic district.

“By the way, you mentioned experts earlier. Who are these people?”

“One is quite a famous scholar in this city. An elite mage from the Caig Tower.”

“Oh...”

Risir’s eyes gleamed with interest.

‘An elite mage from a mage tower...Isn’t that someone even high nobles would struggle to get an appointment with?’

As befitting a high-ranking adventurer, Salana’s connections were far from ordinary.

Risir momentarily recalled the potential side benefits of this job and felt satisfied. A high-ranking adventurer was an incredibly luxurious first acquaintance to make upon entering the city.

“And the other one is...This is a bit embarrassing to say, but it’s a shaman.”

“A shaman?”

“You might not believe it, but she’s the only one who’s given any real help for this skin condition. I got help from her once before, and it was effective, so I’ve been meeting her periodically for treatments.”

“And by treatments you mean...”

“She performs a ritual and I drink a potion. It might sound silly, but it actually helps quite a bit.”

“Ritual...potion...”

Risir repeated these two words while staring at Salana’s diseased skin.

Eventually, they arrived at an underground laboratory on the outskirts of the magic district.

“This is my lab. I set it up for the shaman I mentioned earlier.”

As Salana had mentioned, two guests were already seated in the lab.

Dreadlocks? Pretty hip.

Risir was secretly impressed by one of them, an old man with long, braided gray hair and beard. He was engaged in serious conversation with a young woman with red markings on her face.

“Hm? Ah, Salana, you’re here.”

The old man immediately greeted Salana.

“What a surprise. When I heard about an expert who helped with that nasty skin condition of yours, I wondered who it might be—never imagined it’d be a barbarian.”

“Barbarian? I hope you haven’t been rude to my benefactor?”

“At first! I was. Unintentionally. It’s not every day one converses with a barbarian, is it? But it’s fine now. I’ve learned that her knowledge is far from barbaric. Shamanism! What a mysterious, fascinating, and barbaric power!”

The shaman nodded to Salana.

“Salana, it’s been a while.”

“Ah. It has, Glia. And thank you for coming, Sir Meltas.”

“Tsk tsk. You ought to be grateful indeed, making me move my old feet all this way. Yes, very grateful. But Salana...Who’s this young man beside you?”

Risir stepped forward to answer.

“I’m Risir.”

“Oh, I see. Risir. So.”

“Yes?”

“Risir of which family?”

“Ah, I can’t disclose that. I’m an illegitimate child of my house.”

“Mm.”

Meltas nodded slowly, his expression subtly clouded with displeasure.

“So, illegitimate Risir. What brings you here?”

“Sir Meltas. Risir is here to help me.”

Salana retorted with slight annoyance, to which Meltas also displayed his irritation.

A bastard brat, and one barely at the 3rd rank, was invited to this place on equal footing with himself.

“Then, it appears my help is not needed.”

Meltas stood up without hesitation.

The shaman Glia also rose and strode over to Salana. Her expression twisted as she closely examined Salana’s face.

“Salana. What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your condition...it’s severely worsened.”

She pulled out a bottle of green potion from her bosom and handed it to Salana.

“Drink this first.”

Salana reflexively took the bottle—and Risir snatched it away.

In that instant, the color of the potion changed.

“What are you—!”

“You—”

“What did you two put in here?”

The bastard was a beat faster than the old man and the shaman, questioning them first.