The narrow alleyway echoed with the harsh sound of swords clashing with ruthless precision.
clang!
clang!!
clang!!!
The night was a canvas of cold shadows and shifting mud as Grey fought desperately against the leader of the thieving gang. The leader, a wiry man with a scar slicing through his cheek, exuded malevolence. His eyes were narrow slits of malice as he sneered.
"You're a tough one. Not many can stand against me and still be standing…"
The leader's gaze turned bloodshot, his fury palpable. "It's a pity you messed with the wrong guy. NOW DIE!"
With a practiced flourish, the leader chanted,
"Mudslide!"
His command warped the ground beneath them. The cobblestones transformed into a slick, treacherous expanse of mud, threatening to betray Grey's every step. He struggled to maintain his footing on the unstable surface, the night air biting at his exposed skin.
Despite the dangerous footing, Grey's eyes remained cold and unyielding. His every movement was a dance of precision, honed through countless battles.
As the leader lunged, his crude sword glinted ominously under the moonlight. Grey's reflexes, honed from a lifetime of combat, allowed him to barely deflect the leader's assault.
The impact reverberated through his body, and he staggered, a sharp taste of iron filling his mouth. The pain was raw and immediate—an intense reminder of the disparity between them.
This leader was not just a simple opponent; he wielded mana to bolster his attacks and fortify his defenses. The mudslide spell made the battle even more chaotic, complicating Grey's efforts.
The leader pressed his advantage relentlessly. Their swords clashed repeatedly—
clang!
clang!!
clang!!!
Each contact left fresh cuts on the leader's body, while Grey's sword began to show signs of wear, tiny cracks threatening to splinter the blade. The weight of the battle was becoming evident. Grey knew that if his sword shattered, his chances of victory would evaporate. Realizing the futility of trying to win with his current strategy, he decided to shift his approach. He focused his gaze on the leader's neck, his intent sharpened to a deadly edge.
As he lunged forward, his killing intent palpable, the leader's sword intercepted his strike, but a shallow cut marred his neck, warm blood seeping out. The leader's eyes widened in horror, the shock of his own vulnerability striking him deeply. He looked at Grey—a completely naked figure with a steely resolve. The scene was almost absurd, but for the leader, the only sensation was a paralyzing dread.
"Monster," the leader thought, his mind racing with fear. The boy before him was a monster—a force of nature that had outmatched him without even using mana. The chilling golden eyes of Grey seemed to pierce through his very soul, and a suffocating fear gripped his heart. He clutched at his neck, his breathing ragged and panicked.
He had seen enough. This battle was beyond his capability to win. He raised his hands in surrender, his voice a broken whisper, "I... I yield. Please, spare me."
Grey's gaze softened slightly, the fervent fire in his eyes dimming. He took a deep, shuddering breath, the bloodlust receding as exhaustion and an eerie emptiness took its place. His voice was rough as he demanded, "Give me everything you have."
The leader, a mixture of relief and wariness in his eyes, handed over two pouches—one from Grey and one of his own. He did so with a slight tremor in his hands.
"Take your clothes too," the leader added, cringing as he pointed at the discarded pile. "It's quite painful for my eyes."
Grey, still completely naked, glanced at the leader with a cold, detached look. He then looked down at himself, his lips curling into a smug grin.
'As expected, I'm perfect as ever.'
The leader watched Grey's self-satisfied expression, his irritation palpable.
'Shameless bastard,' he thought bitterly. 'What's he even proud of?'
As Grey finished dressing, he observed the two bandits lying unconscious. His attention was drawn to the leader as he administered some form of treatment to them. Grey's curiosity was piqued, and he inquired, "What did you give them?"
The leader shrugged, regaining a trace of his previous bravado. "A kind of medicine. It'll help them recover quickly. It's not as effective as a potion, but it's cheap."
Grey nodded, acknowledging the information. "Do you have more?"
The leader shook his head. Grey was not particularly bothered; he was always cautious about accepting unknown substances.
Pondering for a moment, Grey asked, "Do you know any black markets?"
The leader hesitated before nodding. "There's one, but it won't open for another month."
Grey's frustration was evident. He had a month to return to the academy or face expulsion. The academy represented a safe haven and a chance for a new beginning—one he was keen to seize.
As he gathered the money from the bandits, preparing to leave, the leader's voice stopped him.
"Wait," the leader called out.
Grey turned, his expression inquisitive.
The leader spoke, his tone shifting to a more calculated demeanor. "If you need to sell or buy something, I can help with that. For a commission, of course."
Grey's golden eyes were cold as he asked, "And why are you helping me?"
The leader's demeanor shifted to a sly grin as he clasped his hands together. "You see, I'm in dire need of money. If you give me a commission, I'll assist you with whatever you need," he said, then continued, "You're new to this city, aren't you? Those clothes suggest you come from an elite family. Nobles of your rank are usually well-guarded. The fact that you're alone implies either you've escaped from your household or been cast out."
The leader's eyes gleamed with cunning. "Whatever the case may be, you're in need of money, aren't you? Isn't that why you took my money?" He added with a smirk.
Grey was momentarily taken aback by the leader's keen observation. Despite the earlier confrontation, the leader hadn't fled when given the chance. Instead, he was trying to negotiate.
'It might be a trap,'
but did it matter? The fact that the man had accurately assessed his situation showed intelligence—a trait Grey valued. Besides, he could always deal with any treachery later.
He nodded thoughtfully and added, "If you try anything funny this time, I won't let you get away with just a cut," his gaze fixed on the shallow wound on the leader's neck.
The leader shuddered involuntarily under Grey's cold, unwavering stare. He stammered, "I… I understand."
The leader's earlier bravado waned, replaced by a palpable nervousness. "Follow me. I know some people who'd be interested in making a deal."
"By the way, this one is Rex," the leader said, gesturing to himself.
"Grey," he replied curtly.
Thus began an unlikely partnership—the ruthless killer and the cunning thief, brought together by their mutual need for profit.