Shika

Once targeted, death comes within three days. They are one of the continent’s most feared assassin organizations.

Among these groups, the bloodline-based Shika stands out for being exceptionally hierarchical. Most assassin organizations operate with clear chains of command due to their nature, but none are as rigid as Shika.

Even within the same bloodline, those of lower rank must unconditionally obey those above them. As a result, the lower-ranked members of Shika are essentially treated as slaves.

Within Shika, the entity with the greatest influence is the Elders’ Council. Since even the leader of the organization is chosen by the council, their will is effectively Shika’s will.

“Let us begin the meeting.”

In an unknown mansion, inaccessible even to the top assassins aside from the leader and the highest-ranking members, the Elders’ Council sat gathered around a long rectangular table. These individuals were, in essence, Shika itself.

Although the council served as the “head” of the assassin organization, their meetings were rare. While monthly regular meetings were scheduled, most matters were resolved by the leader.

Today was not one of those regular meetings. The very fact that they had gathered now highlighted the seriousness of the matter at hand.

“As you are all aware, it has been a week since we lost contact with the investigation team sent to the capital.”

“That means…”

“Hmm. It is highly likely they were annihilated.”

Silence fell over the room. The possibility of betrayal or some unexpected mishap wasn’t even considered.

The idea that Shika’s top assassins would collectively betray the organization without any forewarning was utterly implausible, and if it had merely been an unforeseen complication, communication would not have been severed entirely.

Thus, the natural conclusion was that the investigation team had been wiped out.

“As you know, the investigation team was a direct unit under our council. The one leading them was even a candidate for the next leader.”

This meant the possibility of leaked information was close to nonexistent. If information had leaked, it would implicate one of the council members—an even less plausible scenario than the team betraying them.

Baseless suspicion would only create division within the council, and so the conclusion was singular.

“Is Isaac Meyer truly such a man?”

The investigation team’s target: the Empress’s husband, Isaac Meyer. The only logical conclusion they could reach was that he had single-handedly annihilated their elite unit.

Even under the improbable assumption that the Empress had somehow noticed Shika’s movements, she did not possess the power to secretly and completely eliminate an entire investigation team.

If the Imperial Knights had openly been deployed, then perhaps the team’s annihilation could have been accepted, but the outcome would not have been as silent as this.

“Thus, the only remaining possibility is that Isaac Meyer personally wiped out the investigation team.”

“We miscalculated. If he possesses hero-level power, we should never have approached him with brute force.”

The term hero-level power had no precise measure.

It referred to individuals whose overwhelming strength defied common understanding or adventurer rankings—those whose power was simply inhuman.

Across the current human nations, fewer than five individuals were publicly recognized to possess such strength. Of course, some concealed their abilities, but even so, they were exceedingly rare.

The Elders’ Council resolved to add Isaac Meyer’s name to that list.

“Our information on the Meyer Kingdom is severely lacking.”

“There’s no helping it. Even Shika’s assassins dare not enter that inhuman hellscape.”

Perhaps due to a life of perpetual war and combat, the people of the Meyer Kingdom were extraordinarily sensitive to the scent of blood—even ordinary commoners.

No amount of disguise or acting could fool them. For Shika assassins, attempting to infiltrate that kingdom was tantamount to walking around with their identities plainly exposed.

Furthermore, its position on the edge of human territory made it unbearably distant, further limiting intelligence on the kingdom.

“…Come to think of it, wasn’t Isaac Meyer sent as a replacement for his runaway younger brother?”

“Indeed. That means the third brother is currently not in the Meyer Kingdom.”

Outside of the Meyer Kingdom, there was no place on the continent beyond Shika's reach. No matter where someone hid, they could not escape Shika's eyes.

“Very well. Let’s shift our focus and gather more information in that direction.”

To understand Isaac Meyer, they would first need to understand the Meyer Kingdom. The council decided to find and interrogate the individual who would know it best.

It was a direction that, on the surface, seemed entirely reasonable.

Seemed reasonable.

The Hounds were terrified.

Normally unfazed by most things, they were hardened by years of handling dirty work and had grown almost numb to emotions. But even they were still human.

And when humans see something frightening, they naturally feel fear.

For instance, witnessing their normally stoic and cynical assassin colleague humming a tune while cheerfully cleaning the base…

“Terrifying.”

“I’m scared.”

“I feel like throwing up.”

…Such reactions were hardly unreasonable. Yet the scariest moment had not even arrived yet.

“I’m back.”

“Oh, welcome back.”

Haria greeted their captain, who had just returned from the Imperial Palace on business. On the surface, her tone seemed as blunt and stoic as usual, so there didn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary.

But the Hounds weren’t strangers to each other. Even when they didn’t want to, they could always sense their comrades’ moods.

From the moment the captain’s footsteps were heard, Haria’s lips had been twitching upward as if resisting a smile. Her body trembled slightly, trying to suppress it—an effort that did not go unnoticed.

The instant she saw the captain’s face, her cheeks flushed a faint red. Though she tried to speak with her usual bluntness, the faint tremor in her voice gave her away.

Finally, the subtle way her feet almost looked ready to run up and embrace him sealed the deal. It was concerning, to say the least.

“If someone changes that much, doesn’t it mean they’re dying?”

“Right now, I think Haria could take down the Grim Reaper himself.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Even Gilbert agreed, earning nods from the others.

They were all coming to terms with just how powerful the force of love could be.

After finishing a brief conversation with Haria, Isaac approached Gilbert and handed him a document from his coat.

“Here.”

“…Pardon?”

Gilbert accepted it with a puzzled look. When he looked at Isaac for clarification, none was given.

Left with no choice, Gilbert opened the document. Moments later, his hands began to tremble violently. Everyone else watched in curiosity, wondering what could possibly elicit such a dramatic reaction from the Hounds’ most senior member.

Isaac finally turned to face the group and announced as if declaring a royal decree:

“This was applied for long ago, but the previous captain’s untimely death left it unresolved. Today, I went ahead and finished the process. For his contribution in taking down that evil mage—what was his name again?

Anyway, the mage who nearly destroyed the capital three years ago—Gilbert is hereby recognized for his service and officially retired from the Hounds. He’s free now. Everyone, let’s give him a round of applause.”

In the brief silence that followed, Isaac’s solitary clapping was soon drowned out by the uproar of cheering, whistling, and applause from every Hound present.

It was louder than I expected—practically deafening.

For a moment, I worried the old base might actually collapse. Still, it was worth coming during dinner hours; this was when all the Hounds would be gathered together.

I watched as my subordinates celebrated and congratulated one another.

Even Coil, who had always butted heads with Gilbert, offered his heartfelt congratulations. The hulking Damus wept openly, and even the ever-stoic Derrygan smiled brightly.

Each Hound had their own way of expressing their joy. After all, it wasn’t often that someone retired alive from this job—almost unheard of, in fact.

Amid the commotion, Haria slipped up beside me and whispered softly.

“Captain, was this what you were up to today?”

“Yeah.”

She had sulked a little earlier when I told her I’d be visiting the palace alone, given her habit of following me everywhere lately. But now, she smiled brightly and joined the others in celebrating Gilbert’s retirement.

Once the excitement settled a bit, I added some final clarification.

“Imperial mages will come here tomorrow to release the obedience seal. I’ll be present, so there’s nothing to worry about. On that note, if anyone else wants to retire, now’s your chance to speak up.”

Ever since I became the Hounds’ captain, I’d considered letting anyone retire who wished to. Skills and talent mean nothing if someone is forced into a role against their will—they lose their drive and motivation.

While I had expected at least one more volunteer, surprisingly, no one else stepped forward.

“I think it’d be hard to find another job at this point.”

“Unlike Gilbert, we don’t have families to return to or people to protect.”

I figured being free was better than staying bound, but I wasn’t about to force anyone out against their will either.

With the farewell party scheduled for tomorrow after the seals were removed, I returned to my room.

Tap, tap.

As always, the sound of someone knocking at the window pulled my attention. Sure enough, there was Haria hanging outside.

I opened the window, and she jumped inside, promptly wrapping herself around me. Incidentally, the window hadn’t even been locked.

“You could just use the door. Why do you always come in through the window?”

“It’s embarrassing if the others see me.”

Her face flushed red as she buried it against my chest. It was adorable, but honestly, I didn’t understand Haria’s standards for embarrassment.

She had no qualms about making some fairly bold demands in bed, after all.

“That’s different.”

“Hm. So what about the expensive renovations you made to my room recently?”

Unbeknownst to me, Haria had transformed my room into a state-of-the-art space complete with top-tier soundproof magic devices.

On top of that, she brought new things into it nearly every day, making it cozier than my quarters at the Imperial Palace.

“That was necessary. And the expenses aren’t a problem because Her Majesty can cover operational costs.”

“…And my legal wife approved the budget for soundproofing my room?”

“…Well, the wording on the request form was slightly different.”

In other words, to anyone looking in from the outside, this was the story of a mistress tricking my wife into funding a perfectly soundproofed space for an affair.

Even for me, that was… a bit much.

“So, aren’t you going to test the installation tonight?”

“…I suppose I should.”

The newest soundproof magic devices were, indeed, very effective.