17.
There were at least ten of them.
“Yo.”
The largest thug lifted a hand, gesturing toward us with a loose, insolent air. “How about you donate to us instead of the Temple?”
In his other hand, he held a black-painted greatsword.
“If you hand over your valuables, I’ll let you keep your life. Isn’t that more merciful than the gods?”
As if that were a signal, the others drew their weapons in unison.
*What is this? They’re supposed to be back-alley thugs, so why does everyone have a longsword?*
Unless one was a soldier or a licensed mercenary, possessing a longsword was illegal. My fingertips grew cold at the ominous implication.
“We shouldn’t spoil a pretty lady’s lovely face, so why don’t you just cooperate?”
Noticing my terror, the men turned to each other and burst into laughter.
It was then that Everett’s expression, which had been scanning the group with detached eyes, turned icy.
“Judging by the way you hold your swords, are you ex-Imperial Army?”
The thugs flinched. *He’s right.*
There were rumors that some soldiers discharged after the war hadn’t returned to their hometowns, settling instead in the capital to turn to crime. *Did they gamble away their victory bonuses, or was the pension simply not enough?*
These men clearly had no intention of leading a diligent life; they were hunting for a quick fortune in the underworld. Realizing too late they had shown their hand, they tried to reclaim their bravado.
“What’s it to you?”
Everett smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m going to make you pay for daring to attempt robbery with Imperial Army weapons.”
He stood empty-handed, yet he remained impossibly relaxed.
“Did you hear that? The scholar thinks he can make us pay.”
Though they were clearly unsettled by his aura, the thugs tried to mask it, relying on the safety of their numbers. Everett’s smile grew sharper.
“Ms. Diaz. If you’re scared, turn around and cover your ears.”
He tapped my shoulder lightly before walking forward. Some of the men hesitated, stepping back, but after an exchange of glances, they held their ground.
“Um, Sir Rohas?” I called out, but he ignored me.
*He’ll be fine, won’t he?* I stepped back, biting my lip. *The Emperor selects his people based on pure skill.* As a close aide, Everett should be more than capable of handling a pack of disorganized thugs.
Yet, I couldn’t shake my unease. I prayed silently for his safety.
“Yaaah!”
As Everett closed the distance, one of the thugs lunged. Everett grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it with a sickening snap.
“Ugh.”
The thug dropped his sword. Everett caught the falling hilt with his foot, kicked it into the air, and snatched the blade in one fluid motion. He swung it once, the metal whistling. Dressed in simple black, he looked like a cursed knight risen from the depths of hell.
The injured thug scrambled backward, scrambling to stay out of reach.
“You stupid bastards!”
They had failed to capitalize on their numbers, and now they had even lost their weapon. They spat curses at one another, but they had no time to spare. Each time Everett swung, another figure sprawled onto the cobblestones. Even in the pale moonlight, I could see the dark pooling of blood.
“Ugh.”
I couldn’t hold back a small groan. Everett, hearing me even over the din of the fight, clicked his tongue.
“Ms. Diaz, I told you not to look.”
He glanced at me for a split second, his golden eyes as cold as the moon’s surface. As I instinctively retreated, he turned his focus back to the fight.
“Time to finish this.”
The battle became one-sided. Within moments, only one man remained standing.
“D-don’t come any closer!” the last thug shouted, backing away.
“I don’t think I can do that,” Everett replied, his tone as playful as a boy at a game.
“Argh!”
The thug swung wildly, trembling. Everett deflected the blow without a hint of tension. When the blades clashed, the ring of steel vibrated through the alley. It was a mismatch of strength, and the outcome was inevitable. The thug’s sword flew from his grip, and he collapsed, clutching his wrist.
Everett whistled, lifting his blade.
Then, it happened.
One of the thugs who had been lying on the ground—merely playing dead—leaped up and lunged toward me. He had waited for the precise moment Everett was distracted by the final confrontation.
*No!*
I screamed internally, but the thug was faster. Before I could move, he grabbed me by the scruff of my neck.
“Caught you.”
He gasped for air, letting out a grotesque laugh. His hand, stained with blood from the fight, smelled of metallic decay. He fumbled inside his coat, pulled out a pocketknife, and pressed it against my throat.
“Shh, stay still. Lady, we have to survive too, don’t we?” he growled into my ear.
Everett struck the final thug unconscious, then pivoted. His face was that of a vengeful demon.
“Don’t come any closer!” the thug holding me shouted, pressing the blade deeper into my neck. I could feel my skin break; the sting was immediate.
*I should have ended them quickly, but I was foolishly merciful.* How long had he been out of the barracks? He’d gone soft. Everett scoffed at himself, stalling for a moment.
“State your demands.”
He had no intention of complying; he was hunting for an opening. *The blade is small; even if the carotid is nicked, I can save her.* He mentally checked the vial of holy water in his coat and feigned a cold indifference.
The thug, assuming we were lovers, was rattled by Everett’s lack of alarm.
“Damn it, do you think I can’t slit this woman’s throat?” The thug pressed the blade harder. A thin line of blood seeped onto my skin. I was terrified, my eyes stinging with tears, but I refused to scream. I wouldn’t provoke him.
“Go ahead and try?” Everett smiled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The thug, stung by the provocation, trembled. Everett locked eyes with me—a brief, electric connection.
*Hold on just a little longer.*
I nodded almost imperceptibly. The terror in my chest began to harden into resolve.
*She’s brave,* Everett thought.
I watched for the opening. I raised my hand and blinked at Everett.
*What are you doing?*
Everett was momentarily flustered, but he surged forward to command the thug’s attention.
“Why? Not confident?”
The thug’s gaze snapped toward Everett. In that fraction of a second, I grabbed the thug’s wounded arm and dug my nails into the laceration.
“Argh!”
His grip loosened.
“Carolina, get down!”
As I dropped, Everett swung his sword.
I looked up at him, my violet eyes sparkling with disbelief. *It actually worked?*
For the first time in his life, Everett felt truly dumbfounded. But he wasn’t a fool; he didn’t miss his chance. This time, there was no mercy in his blade.