Tris sat with his legs drawn up, resting on a large rock. In his right hand, he held a bottle of water, while his left grasped a stone that shimmered like glass.
That bottle was a magic potion. With the right ingredients, alchemists could craft potions with a wide range of functions.
They were usually divided into several main types: healing, detoxifying, restorative, and enhancing.
Naturally, depending on their effectiveness and rarity, their prices vary greatly.
Enhancement potions commonly found on the market only provided temporary boosts for a short period of time, often accompanied by numerous side effects.
Potions without side effects were not only expensive but also rarely available for purchase.
That was why Tris had no enhancement potions stored in his spatial ring.
The one he was drinking now was a high-quality potion specialized in restoring spiritual energy.
Since even the cheapest potion costs at least one gold coin, this one was naturally worth many times more.
Thus, even though the potion's taste wasn't bad—slightly sweet from herbs and fragrant with fruit—Tris still found it bitter.
'Every gulp feels like swallowing a pile of gold. I really should learn how to make potions myself someday.' he thought with a pang of regret.
The stone in his left hand was, in fact, a magic crystal, also known as a mana stone. It was a mineral harvested from the bodies of magical beasts.
Magic crystals had many uses, one of which was allowing Mages to draw spiritual energy from them, just as Tris was doing now.
By using both the potion and the crystal, Tris's spiritual energy was being restored rapidly.
But why was he in such a rush to recover, even willing to spend a precious potion?
Although today's appetizer and main course had already been dealt with, dessert was still waiting.
Tris knew that if you had an enemy, you should eliminate them as soon as the opportunity arose.
Carelessness could mean a sudden stab in the back. And with his principle of never underestimating an opponent, Tris wanted to act only when he was in peak condition.
In truth, he believed that dealing with the remaining assassin alone would be quick and easy. Yet the real world was not a closed arena for two fighters.
A third—or even fourth—party could appear at any time. Even without other people, the wilderness itself posed danger: a magical beast could ambush at any moment.
Thus, when it came to one's life, preparation was never excessive.
Through his puppet's surveillance, Tris saw that the remaining assassin was still struggling against his invisible foe.
But the man was closing in, tracking the puppet "Sniper." The only reason he hadn't found it yet was that he never expected his opponent to be non-human and hiding in such a place.
Given more time, however, the puppet would surely be exposed.
Naturally, Tris had no intention of granting him that time.
Finishing the last sip and tossing the bottle aside, Tris crushed the now-empty crystal in his hand.
He stood, stretched, and twisted his body to warm up.
Jumping down from the rock, he drew Zyron's black sword from his spatial ring. With this new toy in hand, he wanted to test it out.
Tris dashed straight toward the assassin, a faint smile on his lips.
* * * * * * * * * *
How much time had passed? He no longer cared.
His eyes were bloodshot with rage from being toyed with for too long. But soon, he would no longer need to endure. He could sense that he was close to finding his target.
He couldn't believe that rat had attacked from such a distance. But after eliminating all other possibilities, the impossible answer was the only one left.
"Haha, soon. I'll catch you soon." His laughter was filled with madness.
Suddenly, a voice rang out behind him, cutting him off:
"Ah, it's only been a few hours. And yet you already seem on the verge of losing your mind?"
"Who's there?" The assassin spun around in shock.
He had been carefully attuned to his surroundings, yet hadn't noticed anyone approach until they spoke.
A cold bead of sweat slid down his temple. If the intruder had attacked silently, he might not have reacted in time.
Looking toward the voice, he was stunned to see the very child they had been hired to kill. Too surprised to think, he blurted out:
"Why are you here?"
"Your head's still not clear, is it?" Tris replied lazily.
Normally, he would have struck from the shadows rather than waste time like this.
But this time, he wanted to test the sword against an opponent who had raised his full defenses. So he broke his usual style and confronted the enemy directly, all for the sake of an effective experiment.
Despite this concession, the assassin still seemed dazed, his mind clouded.
Tris ignored the reason for his state and remained calm.
"Wait, the leader… Impossible…" the assassin muttered in confusion.
"They're busy visiting their ancestors. Forget it. What matters is that you raise your defenses properly for me, alright?" Tris requested.
"??"
Still bewildered, the assassin saw the boy raise the black sword in his hand.
The weapon radiated a sinister black aura. Then, in an instant, the blade swung down.
Though they stood nearly five meters apart, the strike reached him immediately.
It was a slash that tore through space, wrapped in a dreadful black air.
The assassin barely managed to cross his gauntlets in front of him to block. The moment the attack struck, he felt its crushing weight.
His body was forced backward, his feet carving trenches into the ground.
Then came the mental assault—like countless needles piercing his spirit.
Agony twisted his face, veins bulged on his neck, and sweat poured down his distorted features.
Tris watched curiously, realizing the sword's effect was stronger than expected.
Tris himself had also endured attacks from the blade before, but only indirectly—through his puppet.
Though the impact on his spirit was real, it mainly affected the long-distance connection between him and "The Twin."
It forced him to expend a large amount of spiritual energy just to maintain control and keep the puppet active.
But judging from the scene before his eyes now, the direct effect was far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.
The black aura truly carried a devastating spiritual attack.
'Where did Zyron even get this blade?' Tris wondered, then called out to his opponent:
"That was just a 'Mana Slash' combined with the blade's ability. Now, block this next one."
Another strike was unleashed. This time, the slash moved so fast it was nearly invisible.
"Dimension Slash"—a fusion of "Dimension Cut" and "Mana Slash," now enhanced by the blade's power—deadly and terrifying.
The assassin, still reeling from the previous pain, was too slow to gather enough spiritual energy for defense.
The slash cut through both arms, then cleaved his body in two.
Looking down at his fallen foe lying in a pool of blood, Tris sighed:
"Damn, letting this thing fall into Zyron's hands was a mistake. Dangerous weapons like this should be under my care and protection."