A Near-Even Match Between Assassins

To avoid collateral damage, she lured Owen away.

Her opponent didn't want to fight near that large man either, apparently, and took the bait.

She'd only exchanged a few blows while luring her away, but that was enough to roughly gauge her opponent's skill.

As an assassin, Owen was upper-intermediate at best.

The priestess's blessing enhanced both their abilities equally.

There was no significant difference between Elza's blessing and that of the large man.

In other words, the outcome would be decided by the pure skill of Finn and Owen.

"I'm surprised. I thought there weren't any decent assassins left in the kingdom, but I guess that's not the case."

"Don't call me an assassin, hag."

She didn't miss her opponent's eyebrow twitching.

Owen looked quite young, but Finn's eyes weren't deceived.

Her actual age was much older. It showed in her mannerisms.

"You've got quite a mouth, little girl. Stick your nose in adult business and you'll get hurt."

"Which means it's shady business."

She put strength into the crystal short swords in both hands.

Frustratingly, this wasn't an opponent she could beat for certain.

She'd rated her opponent as upper-intermediate, but that was because Finn herself was at the same level.

Of course, she was confident she'd grow even stronger once puberty passed and her technique was polished and her body matured further.

But that wasn't now.

Such was the frustration of not having the power she needed when she needed it.

She exhaled, then inhaled.

Then she sharpened her mind and cleared away stray thoughts.

If she let her mind wander, she'd get her feet swept out from under her.

Her role right now was to stall the assassin in front of her.

Nothing more. If she pushed for more and lost, this woman would be set loose.

Alexia and Aogiri aside, the others might be caught off guard.

And being blindsided during the fight with that large man would be far too dangerous.

She leaned her upper body forward like a hunting beast, until her hands nearly touched the ground.

She was short.

That was a physical disadvantage, but in combat it could be an advantage.

The moment she kicked off the ground hard, the scenery around her stretched as a side effect of her acceleration.

Elza's blessing was powerful.

It let her reach top speed this easily.

With her short stature and forward lean, combined with this speed, she'd appear to vanish from her opponent's view.

Against an ordinary foe, this movement was like a vanishing shadow, too fast for even her silhouette to be seen.

She spread both arms and slashed at Owen's neck from left and right with her short swords.

Against a lesser opponent, this would end with their head rolling.

But her opponent crouched instantly, curling her body to evade, while simultaneously sweeping at her legs.

Finn used her momentum to lift her body from the ground and folded both legs to avoid it.

Her right knee was close to Owen's face.

She'd slam it right into that composed expression.

Just before impact, both wrists intercepted and blocked it.

The force knocked Owen back significantly, but it probably hadn't done much damage.

She'd judged as much and was readying to pursue, but Owen planted her feet and held firm.

The blood vessels in her calves were bulging. She was putting in effort.

Then it was her turn to attack.

With an explosive sound, she slashed with the short sword in her right hand.

Finn barely dodged in front of it, and as expected, a knee came at her.

She couldn't evade in time, so she deliberately took the hit while matching the timing and moving her neck with the force.

It put intense strain on her neck muscles, but better than taking it full on.

She redirected the momentum and drove her left foot into Owen's stomach in return.

But it was too shallow. Owen's left-hand short sword was about to stab her, so she had to pull back before her kick reached the organs.

It seemed she'd cut the inside of her mouth from that exchange.

She spat out the small amount of blood that had pooled and wiped the stain from her lips.

As expected, this wouldn't be settled easily.

Owen brushed off the shoe print on her stomach and rubbed her neck.

"I'm surprised, girlie. That we're both still alive right now."

"Fights to the death are everyday life. For both of us. You reek of death so badly it makes me sick."

Owen, too, must have understood that they both had the skill to kill each other.

"Without that priestess there, this would've been easy. Risking my life is bad business."

"Then why don't you run? I'll let you go now."

"Wish I could, but that's the hard part. You'd understand, right? The only time you can run in this job is when your employer's household is destroyed. We live by reputation. Turncoats are hated."

Did she really, though? Likes and principles might align, but the woman before her seemed like the type who'd betray without hesitation when it suited her.

Being with that creepy large man from the Sun God faith was one thing, but this woman had been the one trying to trap the Gypsies with debt in the first place.

She probably had no decent ethics.

… Ethics, huh.

She laughed at herself for thinking that, and Owen gave her a suspicious look.

Maybe she'd been influenced by Yohane too.

That an assassin, of all people, would use a word like "ethics" to reproach someone, even if only in her thoughts.

Honestly. Being around good people changed you this much.

"Anyway, you piss me off, so I'm going to beat you black and blue. If you're lucky, you might not die."

Her mood had shifted.

She'd thought of it as just a job she was reluctantly tagging along for, but she was starting to feel a little motivated.

She'd give it her all for her soft-hearted, worry-prone employer who'd stuck his nose into this mess.