Chapter 25: The Unseen Assassin’s Gambit

Assassins. Magical girls.

By no stretch of the imagination did these terms seem related.

Exquisite, elegant, and captivating magical girls would never deign to lurk in the shadows as assassins.

Furthermore, humanity had no need for their precious magical girls to act as assassins; their extraordinary powers were meant to combat the enemies of mankind.

Such was the natural order of things.

Yet, what if… what if certain magical girls themselves turned into humanity’s adversaries?

Perhaps due to clashing ideals, differing philosophies, volatile emotions, or even sheer antagonism—regardless of the cause—one immutable truth would always remain:

Humanity, by itself, was virtually powerless against formidable magical girls.

Thus, it logically followed that only a magical girl could slay another magical girl.

Consequently, there arose a need to conscript those who already possessed experience in confronting magical girls.

This, in turn, necessitated the specialized training of assassins specifically designed to eliminate magical girls.

“Hmph…”

Within the deserted underground corridor, a short-haired girl with violet locks held a short sword horizontally across her chest, subtly regulating her breath.

The tempest of continuous slashes had finally subsided, leaving the corridor’s walls — once pristine, now ravaged by the clashing blades — scarred with deep gouges; not a single section remained unscathed.

“Not bad, Ling Xing. For a newcomer, you’re the strongest I’ve ever seen.”

Hane, an assassin who, having once served as a combatant against magical girls, was now maintained by the Kuonji family.

This was the first time she had expended such considerable effort on a new magical girl.

Despite not even knowing her own magic or possessing any magical armament, Ling Xing had managed to infuse a mundane blade with pure magical energy, exchanging dozens of blows with her opponent without yet succumbing.

Typically, an ordinary magical girl would have lost consciousness after the very first surprise attack.

“‘…Hmph, what nonsense are you spouting? The newcomer is still in the cold storage behind you. I’m an elite combatant, certainly no rookie!'”

Ling Xing, locked in a standoff with Hane, was visibly in a terrible state.

Her defiant words were punctuated by slightly ragged breaths, and across the skin her short camisole failed to conceal, several blood streaks, narrowly averted from the sword’s tip, crisscrossed haphazardly.

Moreover, her already sparse attire—a camisole, hot pants, and thigh-high stockings—had been shredded by the blade, the fabric torn away to reveal large swathes of bloodied, pale skin.

The Japanese sword she wielded in battle was riddled with deep fissures, its blade a jagged mess of nicks and tears.

Even the most untrained eye could discern that this ruined weapon would likely shatter upon attempting to slice an apple.

Regardless of how intensely it was reinforced with magic, a mortal weapon could never truly stand against a magical girl.

Therefore, the next strike would undoubtedly be the last.

It was precisely for this reason that Hane retracted her dual blades, which had been poised for a continuous assault, and once more assumed a confrontational stance several paces from Ling Xing.

“‘There’s no difference. Monsters are to D-rank magical girls what elite combatants are to apprentice magical girls. They’re all just as easy to cut down, after all—'”

“‘Oh? Is that so? Seven monsters slain in one night…’

According to Hane’s own account, these were heroic deeds, chronicled and recorded in written form.

Such achievements represented—

“‘It’s good that you understand. Now that you’ve grasped the reality of your situation, speak your final words. Out of respect for a fellow combatant, I shall not subject you to the torment and humiliation that the young mistress delights in.'”

The diminutive girl offered no denial.

She quietly uttered those chilling words, granting Ling Xing a final, cold mercy.

“‘Last words, huh… They might be a bit long. How about you answer a few questions for me instead, to satisfy my curiosity?'”

“‘Speak.'”

Hane made no move to strike.

As if anticipating something, she watched with coldly narrowed eyes, maintaining the standoff from several paces away.

In stark contrast, Ling Xing, despite her tattered clothes and thigh-high stockings slashed with gaping rents, presented a truly pitiable sight.

Yet, a confident, faint smile still played upon Ling Xing’s lips.

Perhaps it was this very confidence that compelled Hane to exercise caution, preventing her from striking rashly.

How could someone so utterly doomed, incapable of withstanding the next attack, display such an air of nonchalant defiance?

Faced with such an assured victory, Hane found herself genuinely intrigued, a flicker of curiosity stirring within her.

She wondered what questions Ling Xing would pose.

“‘Here’s my question: you emerged from that open cold storage, where you’d been ambushing us—a cold storage capable of freezing Chao Wu to death, no less—yet you don’t seem to feel the slightest bit of cold, do you?'”

“‘……!'”

This was no mere question.

Unlike Chao Wu, who was perpetually a beat behind, Hane instantly grasped the implications of Ling Xing’s words, discerning her true intent.

“‘Your skin is flushed and supple, utterly devoid of the bloodless pallor one would acquire in such frigid temperatures. Your limbs are agile and fluid, betraying no hint of stiffness or slowed movement from prolonged exposure to freezing conditions… You, in truth, weren’t inside that cold storage at all before the door opened, were you?'”

Ling Xing uttered not a question, but a declaration born of a pre-formed conclusion.

With the dull edge of her blade resting on her shoulder, Ling Xing spread her arms, facing this legendary assassin of magical girls… this former kindred spirit.

Predictably, her words were met not with an answer, but with—

Zzzz—zzzz—zzzz—

The crackle of electricity.

The overhead lights flickered erratically once more.

Hane raised her sword-wielding hand high, poised to unleash a devastating strike, a combined assault of both blades.

This was Hane’s unequivocal response to Ling Xing’s question: a final, all-out strike, answering words with unbridled force.

Yet, even amidst the prelude to this decisive attack, Ling Xing’s words had not concluded.

“‘You deliberately avoided acting at the school this morning, and here, you’ve neither deployed transfer devices nor set any traps. You only appeared suddenly at this crucial juncture, feigning an ambush when in reality you were never there—not even with any temporary coordination or support…'”

“‘…'”

The lights extinguished.

Ling Xing could not be permitted to speak further; Ling Xing could not be allowed to think!

Reason swiftly eclipsed that fleeting curiosity, and the assassin girl unleashed her final, full-force strike.

“‘Your magic—'”

The underground corridor, utterly dependent on artificial illumination, was plunged into absolute darkness the instant its lights were extinguished.

It was precisely this instant of enveloping darkness that fulfilled the conditions for Hane’s magic.

“‘Is teleportation under unobserved conditions, correct?'”

The young mistress’s demands were utterly forgotten.

This was no longer a mere playful skirmish, designed to cripple or break limbs.

Her sense of crisis ignited by Ling Xing’s words, Hane now held nothing back.

Feigning a forward sword swing to lure Ling Xing into blocking, Hane then instantly teleported behind her, intent on severing Ling Xing’s unguarded head!

This stratagem, however, had already been seen through.

Ling Xing was already prepared; she had reacted swiftly enough to activate her weapon and block the unseen sneak attack originating from the opposite direction.

Yet, even with such foresight, it would prove futile!

“‘You’re right… Now, die.'”

Given the dilapidated state of Ling Xing’s weapon, even if she had anticipated this final move, she possessed no capacity to withstand the combined force of Hane’s dual-blade assault!

An assassin would only unleash their ultimate technique when their target was utterly defenseless and victory was absolutely assured.

This very strike was Hane’s masterpiece—the meticulously crafted, absolutely lethal blow of an assassin, guaranteeing triumph.

Ling Xing was undeniably clever, astute enough to deduce Hane’s previously undisclosed ability from the incredibly limited information available amidst their desperate skirmish, but—

What did it matter how clever, how talented, or how full of potential one was!? The dead possessed nothing! The dead could reveal nothing!