CH 17

Elegy of a Villain

I placed too much faith in him. Trust is important, but so is doubt. I should’ve reminded myself about the importance of striking a balance.

“Oh well, I messed up… Damn it. That bastard… He has a way of making me lower my guard.”

By the standards of this world, he was serious, timid, and meticulous. Greg appreciated those qualities and found him invaluable. Perhaps unknowingly, he had grown complacent.

Come to think of it, she can sense lies from clients and all, but I never had her use it on him.

Despite having climbed to this position, it seems I still have a weak spot. And this is the consequence.

As multiple people approached, their footsteps carefully concealed, Greg noticed their presence. They were heading his way.

They may think they’re going unnoticed, but this is my territory. There’s no way I wouldn’t notice with their half-hearted attempts at stealth, Greg thought, drawing two daggers closer, concealing them behind his waist and within his boots. A hand axe discreetly nestled at his feet.

After a while…

There were five men standing between him and Hans. Usually, this would be an insurmountable difference in numbers. Greg weighed his options, but no matter how he contemplated, the situation seemed hopeless.

“It’s this ring. I conditioned her to obey anyone wearing it,” Greg slowly removed a ring from his right hand, measuring the distance between them. Within this range, it would be reachable.

“Here, catch!” Saying that, Greg threw the ring up in an arc. The thugs’ gaze fixated on it. In one fluid motion, he discreetly grabbed the dagger and the hand axe concealed behind his waist and inside his boots. Then, he swiftly hurled them.

The dagger found its mark in the forehead of the man to the left, a precise strike. The hand axe shattered the skull of the thug blocking Hans. With its rebound, the hand axe descended, its handle striking Hans’ forehead.

Not the blade.

“Ugh!”

“Argh!”

“Aaargh!!”

He managed to shove him away but couldn’t evade the blade of the next attacker.

Stab.

“Ahh… it ends here, huh…” Greg muttered through the searing pain of the blade piercing his chest. His gaze dropped to the sword embedded in his lung.

“You useless fool! Couldn’t you aim for my heart?!” Greg cursed through gritted teeth.

And then, by a stroke of fate, the sword dropped from the grip of the man whom Greg had struck earlier, grazing his finger. “Otherwise, it will end up like this!”

Summoning his last ounce of strength, Greg clutched the sword tightly in a reverse grip and thrust it into the side of his attacker. A piercing scream rent the air as the man writhed like a madman, pushing Greg away and rolling on the blood-soaked floor.