"No, that won't do. I must let my love taste this flavor. I'm going mad regretting that this candy, which just melted in my mouth, is gone. I should've broken it apart, tasted just a bit, and saved the rest for my love, Rheabella."
Even as he spoke, Diverte's expression shifted incessantly. And watching Diverte's animated face, Ard's own expression twisted in discomfort. It was the same look he'd worn long ago when he encountered a frothing, barking fox charging at him during a hunt.
—Shing—
The sharp sound of a sword being drawn cut through the air. In Diverte's left hand was an oddly curved scabbard, and in his right, a hilt adorned with countless gleaming jewels.
"Rheabella… my love. This candy has such a wonderful taste… try it~."
In that instant, as Diverte drew his curved blade, Ard's hand instinctively reached for his own sword. But before his fingers could even graze the hilt, Diverte was already attempting to slice a small white candy on the table with his cherished blade.
"What—what are you doing?!"
In that fleeting moment, Ard, startled by the chilling killing intent radiating from Diverte as he drew his sword, shouted out.
—Crash—
"What's going on, Lord Ard?!"
A knight's urgent voice rang out as he roughly pushed open the door and burst into the tavern.
"Tch… It's nothing. It's fine, so get out."
Ard said, irritated at himself for being shaken by the mere killing intent of a drawn sword. He waved off the knight who had stormed in.
Turning his gaze back to Diverte, Ard saw him slicing the candy Ard had given him in half with the tip of his curved blade.
A faint green glow emanated from the blade in Diverte's hand, casting light on his face.
"Hehehehe. How is it? Delicious, right? They said it's not something you can taste easily." Diverte said.
The bizarre scene unfolding before Ard's eyes… Diverte's usual habit of talking to his sword paled in comparison to the strangeness of this moment. It was clear now that Diverte's eccentricity was only a fraction of what Ard was witnessing.
A madman's smile. Diverte's unfocused eyes were fixed on the candy Ard had given him, now split in two. Moments later, the candy, touched by the intensified glow from the blade named Rheabella in Diverte's hand, turned to dust and vanished.
'What in the world…? It's as if that sword actually ate the candy I gave him.'
Ard stared blankly at Diverte, his brow furrowed. The sight of the candy being sliced by the sword, turning to powder, and vanishing as if swallowed by the blade was so unsettling that Ard couldn't even muster the will to ask Diverte about the principle behind it.
To Ard's ears, it seemed as though a woman's voice was responding to Diverte's words. The image of a woman with her arm draped over Diverte's shoulder was so vivid that the sight of the two lovers appeared utterly surreal.
"Thank you, Lord Ard. Rheabella says it was delicious too."
Diverte said, sheathing his curved sword with a serene smile as he expressed his gratitude.
"Ahem! Well… I'm glad she liked it."
Ard replied, narrowing his eyes and forcing a bitter smile. He quickly shook his head to dispel the woman's voice that had echoed in his ears, reverberating in his mind and unsettling his heart.
"Well, then, you can go now. It doesn't take long to prepare to cut off a horse's head, does it?"
"Yes, sir. I'll take my leave then."
"Good. Go prove your worth. I need to see if you're worth all that money and that precious candy…"
Ard said, gesturing with a wave of his hand, folding and unfolding four fingers to signal Diverte to leave.
*****
The next day, somewhere in Ves-Dinas, Baron Nachel awoke with a scream that pierced through the walls of his bedroom, overwhelmed by the damp and sticky sensation clinging to his body.
It was a cry filled with anguish.
Shock was followed by sorrow, and that sorrow was laced with rage. The sound of Baron Nachel weeping, clutching the severed head of his beloved horse, echoed outward.
"Ughhh!"
"Oh? Looks like he's awake."
Groaning, the man stirred, his vision blurry. Blinking several times, he saw a masked figure reflecting the dim light of a small lantern in the room.
"Oh, he's really awake? A bit earlier than expected."
Another masked figure said, emerging from the shadows.
"Who are you? And why me—ugh!"
The man tried to rise and shout at the two masked figures, but he quickly realized his arms and legs were bound to a chair.
"Hm. What's the point of knowing who we are?"
The second figure said.
"By the way, this mask is so uncomfortable. Do we really have to wear these, Tiger Beetle?"
"Yes, Dragon Fly. The client who hired us said there can't be any witnesses." Tiger Beetle replied.
"Dragon Fly? Tiger Beetle? What nonsense is this? Dost thou even know who I am, to dare such impudence?"
The man shouted, writhing against the ropes binding his arms and legs to the chair.
"We know exactly who you are. That's why we took this job."
Tiger Beetle said calmly, addressing the man.
"Just to confirm, you're Clent Brigel, correct?"
Veins bulging on his forehead, Clent, bound to the chair, glared at them.
"Yes, that's my name. Knowing who I am and still doing this—you're no ordinary thugs. Who hired you?"
"You think we'd tell you that, you idiot? And stop shouting, you're too loud." Dragon Fly snapped, grabbing Clent's head with a grip so strong it felt like it could crush his skull.
Clent's fiery demeanor quickly subsided under the terrifying force, and he slumped back into the chair, releasing the tension in his body.
"Phew… Since you know who I am, I'll keep this short. I'll pay you five times what they offered. And if you bring me the head of the one who hired you, I'll pay ten times." Clent said.
After a long exhale, Clent regained his composure and assessed his situation more coldly. The first plan that came to mind was to offer an amount so substantial that the two masked figures couldn't refuse. Doubling or tripling the offer wouldn't do—he figured five times the amount would ensure they'd accept without hesitation. Whatever the sum, escaping this situation was all that mattered. Gold coins were the least of his concerns; he had plenty to spare.
"Tch, tch… Unfortunately, things don't work that way in our line of business." Tiger Beetle said.
"No matter how many times the payment you offer, betraying a client is unthinkable. You'd hear the same from any other contractor in our trade. That's just how these deals work."
"Exactly. Client trust comes first, you moron."
Dragon Fly added, shrugging with a scoff and kicking Clent's chair toward the dark corner of the room.
"Then at least tell me why. I have too many enemies to guess the reason… It'd be nice if you could also tell me who hired you." Clent said.
He decided he needed to buy time to think of another plan. The rough-talking Dragon Fly wouldn't entertain his requests, but the talkative Tiger Beetle, who seemed more open to conversation, might let something slip if prodded.
"You idiot, what's the point of knowing? Planning to take revenge or something? Even if we told you, you'd have to get out of here alive to do anything about it." Dragon Fly sneered.
"Hey, Dragon Fly, don't say that! If the target knows they're going to die, it makes the job harder." Tiger Beetle interjected.
"Nah, it might make them give up, which could make things easier. Don't overcomplicate it." Dragon Fly replied.
The sudden declaration of his impending death sent beads of sweat rolling down Clent's forehead. His heart began to race.
"Wait, if we're going to kill him anyway, why are we still wearing these masks?" Dragon Fly said, pulling off his mask with one hand.
"Hey! Why'd you take it off? We went through the trouble of having these masks custom-made to match our names!"
Tiger Beetle said, a hint of disappointment in his tone, as he watched Dragon Fly blow his bangs out of his face.
Beneath the mask, Dragon Fly's appearance was a stark contrast to his rough speech. He had striking features: flawless, marble-like skin, large red eyes that reflected the lantern's light, and sharply defined lips—an almost otherworldly beauty rare for a man.
"We've been wearing these the whole way here, so it's fine to take them off now, right?" Dragon Fly said.
"Still… it's cooler if we both wear them."
Tiger Beetle replied, adjusting the mask on his face with both hands.
Tiger Beetle's mask was indeed unique, as he'd claimed. Its glossy blue-green sheen featured an engraving on the left side of a long-bodied insect with a small head, long legs, and antennae—matching the image of a tiger beetle.
Dragon Fly's mask, on the other hand, was a vivid red, with a black dragonfly etched on the right side, visible even in the dim light.
Ignoring Clent, who was sweating profusely and glancing back and forth between them, the two continued their conversation.
"We were supposed to start using these masks from the last job, but the workshop couldn't get the right dyes in time… Such a shame." Tiger Beetle said.
"Oh, you mean the job in Tislo?" Dragon Fly asked.
"Yeah, the one in Zarispo. I kept thinking how great it would've been to wear these while dealing with all those targets." Tiger Beetle replied.
"How many did we kill that time?" Dragon Fly asked.
"Seventeen." Tiger Beetle answered.
"Wouldn't they have gotten soaked in blood and ruined?"
Dragon Fly said with a sly grin, one corner of his mouth curling upward.
"No way! These aren't just any masks ordered from some assassin's workshop. They're made with special dyes that don't stain with blood or hold its smell… I didn't ask for the details about the dyes, though."
Tiger Beetle said, chattering like a merchant eagerly pitching a product.
"But that's not what I mean. The real joy for me these days is keeping the image of you and me wearing these masks in my mind for as long as possible."
Tiger Beetle said, wiping Dragon Fly's mask with the sleeve of his loose robe.
"Ha, when you put it like that, I can't exactly refuse…"
Dragon Fly said with a reluctant expression, snatching his mask back from Tiger Beetle, brushing back his disheveled hair, and putting it back on.
"Alright, enough about the masks. Time to get to work. Heh heh heh." Dragon Fly said with a chuckle.