"Hundred Faces, huh..."
King Hassan's deep voice seemed to carry an immense weight, making Hundred Faces gasp for breath.
His hollow, skeletal eye sockets stared at the purple-haired mature woman, one of the individuals, who was kneeling at his feet, trembling.
"What have you built with those countless wisdoms, those countless faces? Is it merely a despicable desire, with a hundred souls vying for that sole creed?!"
His voice suddenly rose, like a clap of thunder, carrying an unspeakable fury and... deep disappointment.
The greatsword that once declared the death of the Demonic Dragon was raised by him again, and the cold aura of death instantly locked onto her!
"Fool—offer your head!"
Before the sword's edge could fall, the pure concept of "Termination" almost made Hundred Faces' spirit collapse first!
"Wait, wait, wait! Old man! Please spare her—!"
Elliot was scared out of his wits, completely disregarding his Master image, and pounced, desperately hugging King Hassan's thick, pillar-like leg.
He hung there like a steelyard weight, shouting hoarsely: "Hundred Faces... she may not have merit this time, but she certainly put in hard work!
Look, she's done assassinations, acted as a nanny (referring to taking care of Klee), and even moonlighted as a craftsperson (referring to sewing Dodoco)! Without her, we would have been exhausted to death this time!
It's not a capital offense! It's really not a capital offense, old man!"
Just at this critical moment, a small, red figure ran to Hundred Faces' side.
Klee looked up at the terrifying King Hassan, and though a little scared, she bravely extended her small hand, gently placing it on Hundred Faces' trembling back, mimicking how Sister Barbara comforts people, stroking her repeatedly.
"Grandpa, don't be angry."
Klee said in a soft, childish voice, her large, ruby-like eyes full of sincerity.
"This purple-haired big sister is a good person; she gave Klee delicious candy and helped everyone fight bad guys! Grandpa, please don't chop her, okay?"
King Hassan's raised greatsword paused in mid-air.
He looked down at his Master, who was desperately holding onto his leg with a distorted expression, then at the little red-hooded girl who was trying to "convert" him with the purest kindness, and finally, his gaze returned to Hundred Faces, who was prostrate on the ground and had slightly stopped trembling due to Klee's comfort.
"...Hmph."
A cold snort of unknown meaning came from beneath the skeletal mask.
The concentrated aura of death receded like a tide, and the heavy greatsword was slowly withdrawn by him, once again disappearing into the shadows.
Although no words were spoken, this attitude already indicated that he had temporarily rescinded the thought of execution.
Elliot immediately slid off King Hassan's leg like a puddle of mud, collapsing onto the ground and gasping for air: "We... we're saved..."
Hundred Faces also felt as if all her strength had been drained, almost collapsing to the ground, luckily Klee was nearby, trying her best to support her with her small hands (though it wasn't very effective).
She looked up, her masked eyes gazing complexly at King Hassan's disappearing back, then at the little Klee beside her and her Master sprawled on the ground, her heart a mix of emotions—the relief of surviving a disaster, the bitterness of being denied by the First Generation Master, and also... a hint of warmth from being protected by a child.
It seems that in the future, not only must she strive to improve her professional skills, but she also needs to get along well with this little ancestor... Hundred Faces silently noted this key point in her heart.
"Hey, that... uh, the old man with the strong aura, what's his background exactly?"
Eula looked in the direction King Hassan had disappeared, patted her chest with lingering fear, and asked Jesse beside her.
That scene just now was truly terrifying; the oppressive feeling emanating from that old man was even more frightening than facing a furious Grand Master Varka.
"Him, you ask."
Jesse pushed up his non-existent glasses, striking a pose of profound knowledge.
"He is a 'Fanatic' walking among humans, the origin and pinnacle of the Assassins' organization 'Old Man of the Mountain'—the First Generation 'Old Man of the Mountain'. You can call him King Hassan.
And Hundred Faces is the nineteenth person to inherit this title."
He paused, his tone carrying a profoundness of explaining historical secrets: "One of King Hassan's purposes is to be 'the Old Man of the Mountain who slays the Old Man of the Mountain'."
"When a certain generation of Hassan deviates from the original teachings, goes astray, or in his view becomes 'impure', he will appear in the world and, with the sword in his hand, carry out the ultimate 'correction'—beheading that unqualified successor."
He glanced at Hundred Faces, who was still slumped on the ground, being comforted by Klee, and added: "Unfortunately, or rather... by his standards, none of his successors after him have fully met the requirements of his pure doctrine.
So, theoretically, they are all on the 'eligible for beheading' list."
"Huh?!"
Eula's ice-blue eyes instantly widened, her face filled with disbelief and absurdity.
"What kind of thing is this?! He sets the rules, and if his successors don't meet them, he kills them all?! How is this different from 'I don't like you, so I'll chop you'? This isn't a fanatic, this is simply..."
She couldn't find the right words to describe this "ancestor-style" management method.
"Ah, that's why he's called a fanatic, you see."
Jesse spread his hands, an expression of "you finally understand" on his face.
"You can't measure him by normal standards. They pursue an absolute creed that tolerates no defilement. Don't worry."
He saw Eula still looking worried and comforted her.
"This cruel 'internal review' mechanism only applies to their own organization members. For those outside the organization, as long as they don't actively provoke him, or are as harmless as Klee, the old man is actually... uh, quite 'reasonable'."
Probably... as long as you don't speak ill of him or question his doctrine in front of him, he probably... won't just randomly chop people... probably.
Just then, Klee, who had been quietly sitting beside Hundred Faces, gently patting her back, suddenly looked up, blinked her big eyes, and asked curiously in her soft, sweet voice: "Brother Jesse, what does 'beheading' mean? Is it like Klee picking Apples from a tree, picking off the bad ones?"
Everyone: "..."
The air instantly fell silent.
Eula massaged her forehead, feeling that after spending so much time with these people (and non-human entities), her common sense was also collapsing at an alarming rate.
Jesse coughed twice, then quickly squatted down, explaining in the most amiable (and distorted) way: "Uh... yes, yes, yes! It's pretty much what you mean! It's about... mm... dealing with the bad, the 'fruit' that grew crooked! Klee is so smart!"
(Internally: This explanation should be fine, right? May the Anemo Archon bless me!)
Klee nodded, seemingly understanding, then continued to focus on comforting her "purple-haired big sister," her small face filled with the determination of "even though I don't understand, big sister seems very scared, Klee must protect big sister."
And Hassan of the Hundred Faces, who had just caught her breath, upon hearing Klee's innocent question and Jesse's absurd explanation, almost imperceptibly trembled again, silently raising the importance of "absolutely must curry favor with this little ancestor" by ten priorities in her internal survival manual.