Chapter 25
On the night of the mission to assassinate Saionji Saburo, Liu Siruo waited at the designated rendezvous point, ready to support Wakako. But long past the expected time, there was still no sign of her.
It wasn’t until the first light of dawn that the familiar figure finally emerged from the distance.
In the soft glow of the morning sun, the stream reflected her weary face.
“What took you so long?” Liu Siruo frowned, worried that something had gone wrong. “Are you injured?”
Wakako shook her head. “No.”
Liu Siruo examined her carefully, seeing that she didn’t appear weak. “So, how did it go? What about Saionji Saburo?”
Wakako shook her head again.
“He wasn’t there. I don’t know if he got wind of something and left the front lines early. He was already gone when I arrived.”
“Oh?” Liu Siruo narrowed her eyes, arms crossed, scrutinizing Wakako. “If that’s the case, why did it take you so long to return?”
Wakako dropped several bundles at Liu Siruo’s feet, which she caught deftly before unwrapping one to take a look. The strong scent of blood wafted into the air, momentarily exciting her, though she quickly discarded it in disgust. “Who are these?”
“The commanding officers sent by the Eagle Kingdom.”
Since Wakako had already infiltrated the enemy camp, she couldn’t return empty-handed. Otherwise, it would be difficult to report back.
“How did you kill them?”
Wakako thought for a moment, then simply said, “They were weak. One slash each.”
The reality, of course, had been far more complicated. After the chaos subsided, it was the moment of lowest vigilance. She had seized the opportunity, sneaking into the commander’s tent, and with one swift move, took his head.
Mercenaries were the strongest fighting force in all of Mios, and Wakako was recognized as the strongest duelist among them.
Her explosiveness, technique, precision, and speed were all top-notch—skills honed through tireless training but also through natural talent. She was, by nature, meant to be a mercenary.
The commanding officers of the Eagle Kingdom were also battle-hardened, having trained rigorously since childhood. They might be well-versed in the art of war, but in the face of extreme violence, it meant nothing.
Several officers fell before Wakako in turn, their lives extinguished before they could even voice a cry of surprise.
The commander was quicker to react, reaching for his weapon to defend himself, but Wakako clamped her hand around his throat, preventing him from making a sound, then easily pinned him to the ground and ended his life.
There were certainly more discreet ways to kill, but according to mercenary rules, if the mission objective was to take a life, they had to bring back the head as proof.
So Wakako had to carry all three heads, which wasn’t conducive to a quick escape.
In the dead of night, the thick scent of blood was particularly noticeable, and the weight of the bundles inevitably slowed her down. She was pursued by many along the way and it took a long time to shake them off.
Wakako had considered eliminating all the pursuing soldiers, but her pain-insensitive body was both a secret weapon and a fatal weakness.
Because her body wouldn’t register any discomfort until she was completely exhausted. Once she crossed that unknown threshold, unpredictable consequences could occur.
While others would feel pain as a warning, she had no idea when she might collapse.
She had already killed too many when she stormed the camp tonight. Theoretically, she could easily deal with those pursuers… but she didn’t want to risk it.
So she spent the night dodging and evading, which cost her extra time.
After hearing her explaination, Liu Siruo didn’t fully believe it. Having fought alongside her senior for five years, she quickly spotted the holes in her story. “Even so, it shouldn’t have taken all night.”
She made a rough calculation.
In Mios, they used sundials and the sound of bells to measure time. The first bell of the morning was rung for those who would rise to offer prayers to God, and it was known as the Morning Prayer Bell.
Even if the pursuers were persistent, Wakako was fully capable of returning before the Morning Prayer bell, but she had deliberately delayed until the second bell, which rang at dawn after the Morning Prayer.
What did she do during that extra hour?
Wakako opened her lips, then closed them again, as if deflated.
“The Saint,” she said. “The Saint was there.”
Although Liu Siruo had already anticipated this, her expression still grew more complex.
The Saint had actually come to the front lines? And had kept Wakako for such a long time?
Wakako knew what her senior would suspect, and she also knew that lying or making up an excuse would probably be the wisest choice for self-preservation.
But she couldn’t do it. Having sworn to be loyal to her squad without reservation, she couldn’t go back on her word. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.
As expected, after a moment, Liu Siruo took a few steps back and suddenly drew her sword, pointing it at Wakako. The cold blade glinted in the light.
“Wakako,” she said coldly, “I’ll ask you one more time. What exactly happened?”
If it came to a fight, this shijie was no match for Wakako, so she wasn’t afraid.
But she didn’t want to be misunderstood by her squad. They were not only her companions but also her family.
“I found Saburo’s tent, but the person inside was the Saint.”
Wakako lowered her head. “The Saint told me that Saionji Saburo had left the front lines the day before. Later, I investigated the Eagle Kingdom’s camp and found no trace of him.”
Liu Siruo’s lips curled into a cynical smile, but she kept her sword raised.
“Oh? The Saint, who has defected to the Eagle Kingdom, suddenly decides to share this information with you? And she lets you run around the camp, killing people as you please? Does that make any sense to you?”
“And this only took a few words.” She stared intently at Wakako, pressing her. “So what were you really doing all night?”
Wakako hesitated for a moment.
The sun rose, painting the sky in warm shades of orange and yellow. The light filtered through the mist and clouds, dappling the treetops and casting shadows on her face.
Slowly, Wakako pulled back the collar of her black attire, revealing the marks on her skin.
She had just returned from taking the enemy’s heads. Her hair was stained with blood, she carried a sharp blade, and she stood tall and proud. With her well-proportioned figure and agile movements, many mercenaries regarded her as an incredibly powerful warrior.
But her rouge was unevenly applied, leaning towards her neck.
No one would have imagined that she would bear such evidence of invasion on her body, as red as blood, as alluring as a flower.
Of course, what was revealed was only the tip of the iceberg, far from the full picture.
After giving Liu Siruo enough time to see clearly, Wakako readjusted her clothes.
Her senior sister had accompanied her to the Hyman family’s wedding ceremony, where they were both briefly entranced by the Saint’s “Holy Water” and held captive at the Saint’s residence. In the end, it was Wakako who pleaded with Miki to release her senior.
Their other companions, who hadn’t experienced it firsthand, might not understand. But Liu Siruo had gone through it all and was extremely perceptive. With her intelligence, she must have understood the relationship between Wakako and the Saint better than anyone…
It was that kind of relationship.
It began as master and servant, but it had long since become something more.
As expected, there was no shock or surprise in Liu Siruo’s eyes, as if she had already anticipated this.
She slowly sheathed her sword. “When did it start? When you were a servant in the Saionji clan?”
Wakako nodded.
“But she’s the Saint.” Liu Siruo, who was usually bold and fearless, couldn’t help but feel a bit surprised. “You were so young, weren’t you afraid of death?”
If discovered, the Saint would be fine, but at that time Wakako was just a servant. There was only one consequence – she would be completely finished.
“It wouldn’t be discovered.” As for the reason, Wakako found it a bit difficult to explain.
Because back in the Saionji household, everyone only saw Miki interacting with her as her master. No one knew that the frail, delicate Saint, who seemed like she could be blown over by the wind, would be the dominant one in bed.
Just like now. If one didn’t witness it personally, it would be hard to imagine Wakako marked by Miki in that way….
However, Liu Siruo didn’t think of that possibility. After all, even with the wildest imagination, it would be difficult to guess that their roles were reversed.
She simply assumed that Wakako meant she hadn’t marked the Saint, as it was common knowledge that the Saint needed to remain chaste.
Liu Siruo pondered for a moment. “Don’t you have a fiancée?”