I pulled Mordred to the side and quietly mentioned, "We're going to have to split up. One of us to handle the mercenaries in the streets, another to head to the castle and figure out what's going on."

  "Do we have to?" she questioned, not pleased at the idea. "Together, we should be able to beat things quick enough, right?"

  "We don't know enough to say for certain. And if we wait too long, things might slip away before we can intervene."

  The dragon's lip curled and she sighed, but gave a single nod. "Alright. I'll take the streets then, look maybe for Gunther. I really hope he's not among the mercenaries causing a ruckus."

  "Hopefully not. If he's still our friend, be sure to hand this over to him. I have a feeling he'll be in need of a good sword before the end of the night."

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  "This isn't what we were told!" the leader of a mercenary band complained to their fellows, glaring at that damn castle in the way. "We were told it was going to be an easy takeover, how the heck did things end up this way!"

  "They've got good sharpshooters, all my archers are down," another angrily told. "Plus, they've got somebody from Magia! That's just not fair!"

  "Guess it's no surprise that they're stubborn on the defense. Why'd we let them rouse themselves and get situated?"

  "It wasn't part of the plan numbskull, like we should've been done with the city guard by now and should have way more on our side! Heck, we should've already been in, that was what was promised-!"

  "What now? We just going to wait around and siege them down? That's not what I was paid for."

  "Me neither. Maybe best we start calling it quits and running. No way we can stick around after this-"

  "You won't be running," a new voice instructed and the gathered mercenary leaders started when somebody abruptly entered through a window. They held up a hand when weapons were drawn. "Hold on, I'm from your employer. New orders for you- help assault the castle with me."

  Immediate protests erupted at the likely suicidal plan. Siege assaults were bloody business. One of them angrily stepped forward, blade at the ready. "Listen, we're tired of being yanked around with this stupid plan! So forget it, unless they've got a better payout ready!"

  "Oh, I've got a payout here for you." Suddenly the mercenary found themselves staring at the point of a crossbow bolt pointed straight at their face. They yelped and scrambled back as the masked figure hoisted the weapon. "Look, I'm going to open the portcullis. I can climb the wall. But I need you to cover me then with a direct assault. Got it?"

  They looked unsteadily at each other, then slowly nodded. The ones present might not like it, but they were in too deep now. It was either riches or the noose now.

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  Mordred leapt across the rooftops, noticing the guards clashing with the mercenaries in the streets below. Most of them seemed to be stragglers or deserters from the main battle that had occurred at the wall's base. They were pretty much broken and trying to hide or escape now, but the guards were hot on their trails. She didn't have to intervene with the usually one-sided encounters.

  And when they did have some fight, a swift kick or punch was enough to send their exhausted frames to the floor. She hadn't yet needed to draw Heart-Pierecer.

  But when she did, the dragon knew that was crossing the line that one couldn't just come back from. It was one thing to kill wildlife and monsters- another to kill somebody sentient, somebody who maybe had a family somewhere, someplace. Her mother had warned before that someday, it would either be her life or theirs- that was just the nature of this world. Sometimes she wouldn't have the mercy of just knocking somebody out and letting justice decide then.

  And sometimes, maybe Mordred would be blessed to be the one to ram her lance through that crimson dragon's heart.

  She crossed over into a familiar part of the city and looked down a familiar street. There, a familiar building was on fire and Mordred stilled, looking at the flames engulf the place where she once slept and ate during her stay in Gabion. It was a total inferno with a few locals trying to form a bucket line to the nearest well, but it was no use. All they could do was just try and prevent it from catching onto neighboring buildings.

  Then she noticed, out the corner of her eye, movement not too far away. It was coming from that small shrine to Belle, the Divine of Death of the Ten Lights. There was a small cellar to the side that was being pushed open and coming out of it, hacking loudly and covered in soot was the dwarf innkeeper and-

  Gunther!

  She wasted no time in jumping across, then down to land in front of the two ragged-looking individuals. Immediately both tensed, bringing out broken weapons, only to visible relax at the sight of the dragon. "Oh, thanks the gods. It's only just an adventurer," the mercenary laughed hoarsely, almost brokenly. "Ah, aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

  "Are you two alright?" she asked, noting the multiple tears and rips in their armor and attire. But there were no visible injuries otherwise and she noticed the empty bottle tightly clutched in Gunther's free hand, like it was all that was keeping him standing. "You used the potions."

  "Hah, I did. Might've been the only thing keeping me alive, between that and [Sole Survivor]." He gritted his teeth and glanced, mood somehow darkening at the sight of another distant fire. "Mmh, so looks like those bastards weren't kidding. I think they set fire to where the Eber Marauders were barracked after 'dealing' with me."

  "The wisdom of the goddess Belle though once again provides," the innkeeper weakly said, waving to where his mother was pushing open the shrine and gaping at the sight. "A secret passageway between the shrine and the inn saved us when they barricaded the way out and started the fire. But looks like we were the only ones who made it. That beer, it goes up fast turns out."

  Mordred gritted her teeth, then shook her head. She quickly briefed Gunther on the other happenings in the city while the shrine's caretaker hastily took her son into the protection of the building. She offered to do the same with the mercenary, only for him to wave off the older dwarf woman and square his jaw. "I guess I'm being infected with your madness, because I'm not standing for this. I'm with you, we're taking back these streets. Even if I'm the only one of the Eber Marauders left, I'll keep fighting."

  "Good. Then you'll be needing a better weapon than that." She gestured to the broken sword in the man's grip before pulling out the 'commission' that had been settled upon a few days ago. "Here you go, like you asked. You should find that it'll hold up better than anything you've ever used before."

  He grinned and took the gift, eyes widening at the incredible quality of even just the leather sheath itself. Then Gunther drew out a measure of the blade and swallowed heavily at the sight of the reflective iron blade. "Well, guess I'll definitely be trying it out tonight," he remarked and tucked the weapon back. "Let's go and find- oh?"

  Mordred blinked and turned, eyes raising at the sight of mercenaries coming down the streets. Ones that she recognized with a feral snarl. "Guess we're being saved the trouble of looking now." Slowly, her hand reached back and withdrew Heart-Piercer, readying to fight and cross that line.

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  "They're charging up!"

  Teodor almost couldn't believe it when the cry was taken up and confirmed across the castle. He had to take a look for himself and was stunned to see it to be a real thing that these mercenaries were trying to do. He could see sheer terror mixed with reckless bravery on their faces when they rushed the castle walls of House Cordis, armed with nothing but seized ladders and grappling hooks.

  No siege equipment. No protection from their archers. No magic to make it make sense.

  It put the heir of the duchy on guard, and he waited for the big reveal. He watched as the charging mercenaries were picked off, the house guards of course well-suited for defending against tides if need be. A soldier was only just smaller a target than a monster. He watched them try to places and climb up the ladders, only for these clearly made for daily commoner usage to fall apart and collapse under the weight of so many trying to climb up. It had none of the sturdiness required for the task. The grappling hooks found barely any more success.

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  Then there were those who charged at the gates and tried to bodily ram through the wooden portcullis. But it held firm and they were cut down by the defenders stationed at the gate controls above, using murder holes to do exactly that. What few survivors panicked and ran back, leaving their dead to lay there.

  Just as quickly as the assault had began, it was over with the mercenaries returning back with maimed bodies, and naught to show for it.

  What...had been the point of that?

  Teodor stared from where he stood in the bailey, barely noticing when his family moved to join him from where they had been watching it all unfold. "Teodor," Gregori uncertainly began, looking actually unsettled. "Tell me, what was their plan? Did you, say, purposefully expose a weakness to lure them into attack?"

  "Father, as much as I would like to claim credit for such, I had nothing to do with the events that had transpired," his son truthfully told with a shake of his head. "They decided to assault our defenses with no clear plan. I know that they are sellswords, but I cannot imagine what price one would be offered for such a pointless attack."

  "Neither I cannot think of what honor and duty would drive them to such purpose."

  "But it's a good thing, isn't it?" Petula added, shifting uncomfortably. "That means we've only one enemy left to deal with if that...siege, if you could call it that, is broken."

  His sister had a point. "Yes, I agree. Everybody, prepare for a sally-"

  "My lords!" one of those on the battlements called out. "More approach! They hoist banners...it's from the Duchy of Viszal!"

  "Our neighbor Viszal?" Vio openly questioned with a confused look and glance at her brother. "I take it not by your invitation?"

  "No. And neither of yours either?" he asked both his children, whom frantically denied the claim. "Then why are they here-"

  "They're slaughtering the mercenaries and...readying for an assault?!" That same shocked watcher called out before their voice rose in pitch. "THEY'RE CHARGING!"

  "What madness is this!" muttered the duke, grimly turning to face the gates. "Surely, they know they cannot-"

  Horror dawned upon the faces of House Cordis when they noticed the portcullis slowly, inexplicable, rising to let in their invading neighbors.

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  The assassin had waited amid the fallen and dead of the mercenaries who had charged the gate at their command. All of them had assumed that the masked individual could open the portcullis to let them into the castle, which was the truth. But they'd left out that for the quickest way in, as requested by their employer, it was easier to play dead and wait for the attention to be drawn elsewhere first before making a move.

  And of course, a lone individual who charged the gates would be suspicious. So they needed a cover, and the other mercenaries were the perfect unwitting accomplices. Through their deaths, the assassin quietly promised to assuage the faint guilt, that castle would at least be stormed.

  Right on time then came Eifer's host, moving in to quickly silence those surviving mercenaries. He'd likely make a quick proclamation on how everybody in the castle now was too a mercenary, to just let those swayed house troops blind themselves even more, then charge forth to a thunderous roar. That was the cue then for the assassin to rise up from the dead and nimbly ascend up the opened murder holes, while all the attention was drawn onto the arriving noble host.

  There were a few defenders inside, ordinarily enough to just hold the gate controls if they weren't under threat. Before they could notice and move to overwhelm the intruder, the assassin used [Knife Fan] to send sedative-laced blades through their armors, knocking them out within seconds. These knives weren't the ones with deadly poison on them, but well, Eifer had only paid for two bodies.

  Not a single one more. The extra price was to cover for this service. Those sedatives weren't cheap.

  They braced, ready to flee anyway if they'd been noticed, but it sounded like the scuffle was drowned out by the sound coming outside. Looks like they managed to do it- good, in a prolonged fight, they probably wouldn't win. Now to exploit something else found in their research of Gabion's defenses. The castle had been designed to keep monsters out, meaning that at the doors leading into the gate controls, there were handy wooden bars to lower to solidly bar the way. Useful for keeping beasts from swarming inside...but also catastrophic if a human infiltrator like an assassin got in.

  Time to raise the gates. The masked individual grunted and pushed against the controls, straining with all their might. With effort, it was slowly rose up, giving barely enough space for Eifer's troops to pass under. Of course, this immediately drew attention and the doors pounded on both sides when the defenders tried to demand what was going on. Only scant moments later, axes and swords were being swung, trying to break into their own heavy defenses against monsters.

  But by the time they would be in, it was already too late. Eifer's retinue was already in the castle.

  The assassin locked the position to give their employer a bit extra time, then slipped back the way they came. Still those barred and reinforced doors held, they quietly admired. Were it a proper siege against a foe without such trickery, House Cordis could have held perhaps forever. Now their defenses worked against them, stalling them from retaking the gatehouse. From here, it was totally up to the invading army whether or not they could take and hold the gates to let more in.

  Hopefully so, because that was the chaos needed to keep their targets out in the open.

  They reviewed the details while they skittered around and climbed the walls. House Cordis didn't shirk from a fight- rather, because of their nature, they fought directly at the front of battle against monsters. Their [Blood Harvest] was most effective there. Of course it wasn't wholly applicable here- but they would want to least direct the battle themselves, instead of being in some secured command center elsewhere. The assassin was counting on that now.

  With how the defenders were trying frantically to stem the tide of attackers spilling into their bailey, it meant all troops on the walls were being drawn back to try and contain the attack. So the assassin should be able to get a good vantage spot on the battlements, unnoticed and unseen. Their crossbow came out from beneath the cloak and they peered down its length searching.

  The defenders of House Cordis was admittedly fighting well, trying to shove the surprise assault back. They had been caught by surprise, perhaps by whiplash of that first overwhelming failed assault, followed by a second in which their own defenses had been compromised. And they were more used to fighting monsters, compared to these veterans of many a 'heretic' hunt. Yet they adapted, quickly, grimly, unwavering. They held in that grim, desperate way that only those appointed guardians of the empire could, spilling blood with every step taken back.

  An equal fight where a single shot could perhaps change the tide of battle.

  There. The one who stood out in plate compared to others. That could only be the duke.

  The fight meant that they couldn't quite get any closer to ensure it would be a killing shot, like the assassin would've liked. But they settled for it, having made preparations for such. The bolt was laced with a deadly poison that would, over time, freeze the heart. All they had to do was hit an artery, and the vampire's blood would do the rest. They'd done their research too- there wasn't a single healer in the duchy, or any of its neighbors who could cure it.

  After all, it wasn't everyday one obtained or even knew how to use monster venom.

  They pulled the trigger.

  The Duke of Gabion jerked back, staring horrified at the crossbow bolt embedded in his upper arm. Then he collapsed, strength already being drained from the poison.

  One more to go. Best move to a new vantage spot though to try and find the heir. Might be trickier if they didn't wear anything to differentiate from the others.

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