He'd never even been outside the Empire, let alone to the East! But Toby didn't stop talking.
"You can tell by looking at his dagger technique. It may seem weak, but it's the dagger style known as Rakbija, designed to ruthlessly kill unarmed targets."
"No way!"
'What the hell is Rakbija, you idiot!' Max screamed internally. He had never even heard of such a ridiculous name. The dagger technique he used was simply something he had learned from his master and refined through personal experience.
"And the way his mask is tied—it's a clear sign he's from a sect that modifies their bodies to conceal poison. If two or more people attack him, he'll go berserk and release his entire body's poison, killing everyone nearby."
"If that's true…!"
"We have no choice but to leave it to the young lord! Thankfully, these assassins won't self-destruct in a one-on-one fight because of their strict rules."
'There's no such rule! I've never even had a boil, let alone body modifications!'
Max was about to lose his mind. What had started as a simple prank to deprive someone of sleep had escalated into him being labeled an assassin, and now he was some lunatic who had modified his body with poison.
What made it even worse was that he couldn't even protest. Not only was it a hopeless situation, but opening his mouth now would probably get him killed!
"But the young lord only started learning swordsmanship recently..."
"Wait a moment. Look closely. The young lord is winning, isn't he?" Toby said.
"What...?!"
The knights finally took a proper look at the situation. Initially, their bias had led them to believe Sylas was barely holding his ground. But now that they were paying attention, it was clear Sylas was overwhelmingly pushing the assassin back.
"My word! What's happening here?"
"He's never even fought in real combat before!"
"I've heard rumors that Sir Werner praised him, but still…!"
The knights stared in awe, their mouths hanging open as they watched the fight unfold. Despite the time that had passed, the battle between Sylas and the assassin was flowing smoothly. For a beginner, it was common to show weaknesses in a prolonged fight, but it was the assassin who appeared to be on the losing side.
"Ancestor Leonick, protect us..." one knight muttered, bowing his head, and soon the other knights followed suit.
At that moment, Max noticed something. In a brief instant, Sylas and Toby exchanged a knowing glance and a subtle wink.
'Wait a minute, don't tell me...!'
A sudden realization struck Max like lightning, freezing him in place. In a life-or-death struggle, even a split-second lapse in concentration could be fatal. And that moment of hesitation gave Sylas the opening he needed.
Sylas quickly closed in and struck Max's temple with the pommel of his sword.
Thud.
"Ugh!"
With a flash of pain, Max lost consciousness, sinking into despair as everything faded to black.
"Ugh…!"
Sometime later, Max woke up with a dull ache throbbing through his body. It was still nighttime, so it couldn't have been too long since he blacked out.
He found himself tightly bound and lying in the corner of a quiet warehouse.
"I thought they'd throw me in the dungeon..." he muttered.
"I had to work my ass off to stop them from doing that, you idiot." A voice startled Max, and he turned his head to see Sylas sitting nearby, watching him with his legs crossed.
"Calling you an assassin from the Eastern heretics worked better than I thought. These guys think it's believable because they'd expect crazy cultists to do anything."
Sylas's words left Max blinking in disbelief before he let out a long sigh.
"Let me guess, you told them something about religious doctrines or whatever, didn't you?"
"Spot on."
In reality, Sylas had spun a story that Max couldn't be sent to a dungeon because no one knew what a desperate assassin might do. There was also the excuse that Sylas had to stay with him to prevent any rash actions.
If the count had been present, none of this would have worked, but luckily, the count had gone to the territory on business.
"Damn it. You should've just killed me. Why slap a crazy label like 'Eastern heretic assassin' on me? Were you trying to make yourself look good?" Max asked, exasperated.
"Why would I do that?" Sylas tilted his head, looking genuinely puzzled, which made Max scoff.
"I'm not an idiot. This was all your doing, wasn't it?"
Max wasn't sure exactly how much Sylas knew. Whether Sylas had figured out that Dani's goal was simply to scare him, or if he genuinely believed it was an assassination attempt—he couldn't say.
What Max did know for certain was that Sylas had anticipated his arrival and had used the situation to make himself look good. On these two points, Max had no doubt.
'If they were in cahoots from the start, everything makes sense.'
The fact that Sylas had been awake at that exact moment, the sword he had prepared beforehand, and Toby's timely presence—it all pointed to a pre-arranged trap. Max had fallen into it without even realizing.
"Still, calling me an Eastern heretic assassin is taking it too far. You're sending me straight to hell just to boost your reputation," Max grumbled, saying that he actually prayed quite earnestly despite appearances.
"Like I said, why would I do that?"
Sylas leaned forward with a mysterious smile.
"It's not that. I wouldn't need to make anything up when you're already a member of the 'Black Moon' assassin group, would I?"
Max felt a chill run down his spine.
The Black Moon—once the largest assassination organization in the Empire, about 15 years ago. It was notorious for assassinating various influential figures, including wealthy merchants and mercenary captains throughout the continent.
What made them especially infamous was their persistence. Most assassins would give up after a failed attempt, but not the Black Moon. They would keep trying until they succeeded in killing their target.