31 - Make Dark Fantasy Great Again

Dark Fantasy Normalization Chapter 31: North Rabbit - Web Novel Archive An assassin without discipline is merely a murderer. Assassin guilds each held up their own codes and rules, adhering to them rigorously. Careless assassins never earned their respect. … In that regard, Black Five Snake could be considered a very exceptional assassin. We are the shadows that swallow the task. The self is consumed by poison. Keep away from gold and blood. For an assassin, the most crucial rule—Black Snake was relatively free from it. According to some, she interprets and follows the rules in a very original manner. Outwardly, Black Five Snake lived the life of a high-ranking adventurer, never hesitating to fulfill her own desires in the process. It wasn't necessarily an action in adherence to the rules. However, neither was it a complete violation of them. She maintained a lifestyle that precariously balanced on the edge as an assassin. Of course, if one were to uphold the rules, such negligence should not be ignored. The guild took action. They attempted to guide her by involving other masters. In the process, the guild gained an unexpected advantage. "When did you plant the poison, you ask? A stupid and pathetic question. Before I answer, let me give you a chance to ponder it yourselves." Each of them was a master regarded with fear by the public. And they came to realize that their lives were all in the hands of Black Five Snake. For an assassin, the rules are absolute. If there is a single value that is free from that rule—it would be absolute power. Thus, Black Five Snake earned the guild's respect, allowing her to focus even more on her 'adventurer play.' ...All of this was to cure a loathsome and dreadful skin disease. *** It felt as if the fire on the skin was being doused. It was a sensation Salana experienced for the first time since she began suffering from the skin disease. She immediately took out a mirror to check. “…” Salana gently touched her own face. "This is unbelievable..." Salana had poured every possible effort into curing her skin disease. She traveled across the continent to meet renowned healers and priestly wizards. She even went as far as hiring pharmaceutical experts and alchemists to commission custom skincare products. Yet every effort turned out to be in vain. Although they could temporarily heal the sores and scars, the disease itself persisted. This was different. Or rather, the opposite. The sores and scars remained, but the underlying disease showed noticeable improvement. The dreadful dark red color that had stained the skin had slightly faded. "How...?" Salana was so bewildered that she forgot to be pleased. She gazed at the man before her—Risir. Beyond the initial impression of "somewhat cute," he appeared to be a normal man. He looked somewhat aristocratic, but he never identified his family lineage. His informal demeanor suggested otherwise. He likely belonged to a family too insignificant to maintain an aristocratic identity. His prowess matched that ordinariness as well. At about twenty years of age, he was at the third rank. If he were a commoner, it would have been evidence of distinction— But for a noble, who receives full-fledged support from a young age, it was an average achievement. Perhaps a sign of inferiority. Most people, including Salana and those who attempted to cure her ailment, would think so. Insignificant. Risir was the kind of person who left such a first impression on individuals like Salana. Nevertheless, this insignificant person approached her, proposing to cure her skin disease. Salana found it reasonable to be suspicious of his intentions and capabilities. Surely, she had been. "What do you think?" "...Huh?" Salana snapped back to reality with Risir's words. Her expression progressively brightened. Thud! Salana grabbed his arm with fervor. "How did you do it?!" Salana was so flustered she even forgot to maintain her 'easygoing senior adventurer' façade. But it wasn't a big issue. At that moment, she felt good enough for a 'master of the assassin guild' to look like an 'easygoing senior adventurer.' "..." However, Risir's response was unimpressed. He spoke with a discontented face. "Could you, if possible, describe your current state?" "...!" Salana was taken aback by Risir's attitude. 'Why does he seem so trustworthy!?' Salana’s previously upright posture became abruptly courteous. Anyone who knew Salana's true nature would have been astonished, thinking 'That lunatic is being polite!?' "It seems better! No, it definitely seems better! How did you do it?! Could you tell me how?" Reverting to the cheerful adventurer, Salana eagerly looked at Risir with bright eyes. "Better, you say?" "...Is there a problem? From what I feel, it seems like it—" "Actually, Miss Salana's condition hasn't fully recovered yet." "...!" Salana's eyes widened. While she felt as if she had been saved just by the slight improvement of her symptoms, this man was displeased about not fully curing the ailment. In other words, he was confident he could completely heal the disease. "What should I do?! What do you need? Money? Materials? Just say the word." "...Could I, please, once more touch the affected area—" Even before he finished speaking, Salana kneeled on the floor, pressing her face against his palm. "There’s no need to go this far-" "Ah, is it uncomfortable? Sorry. I'm just too excited right now-" Haha. Salana rose from her position, keeping Risir's hand against her face. "Is that better? How does it feel?" Salana prodded Risir like a dog begging its owner for a walk, only shutting up when he focused. After a short silence— "Miss Salana?" "Yes, I'm listening." "By any chance—" Risir contemplated how to convey his observations to Salana. Indeed, her skin disease was clearly subject to 'normalization.' The abnormal energy reacting to the power of normalization was worsening the condition of her skin. So, Risir anticipated that using the purification power would completely heal her skin. However, to his surprise, Salana's skin disease remained the same. More precisely, the improvement was fleeting, and her skin was reverting to its original state. 'It's like a cistern connected to a pipe...,' Risir reflected. Even if you emptied the filthy contents of the cistern, it was quickly refilled through the connected pipe. "Ugh...!" Surely enough, Salana grimaced and pulled her face away from Risir's hand. The healed wounds reopened, and sticky pus began to flow out, dampening Risir's hand. For the first time, an expression of shame crossed Salana's usually cheerful facade. "I'm sorry! It's disgusting, isn't it!? I'll clean it right away—" Salana hurriedly took out a handkerchief to wipe Risir's hand. The handkerchief looked excessively luxurious for simply cleaning away pus. It indirectly showed how much care she put into her skin even on a daily basis. "..." Salana's face was etched with shame as she cleaned Risir's palm. Watching her, Risir suppressed a sigh. He initially thought he'd lend a light helping hand, yet it seemed the issue was not that simple. Risir's gaze extended beyond the alley they occupied. He wondered about Fienne, who was likely waiting in front of the inn. "What's wrong? Do you have urgent business elsewhere?" Salana’s voice snapped Risir back to attention. While his eyes wandered for a moment, her demeanor had shifted. Though her expression remained cheerful, the light in her dark-red eyes had vanished. The desperate fear of losing the hope she had finally grasped shattered the composure of the assassin. With an amalgamation of the cheerful adventurer and the assassin guild master, Salana quietly regarded Risir. She then glanced at the hands linked in the guise of cleaning the pus. Risir was unaware, but he had been infected by Salana's poison. Of course, it wasn't a poison meant to kill. How could she use something so treacherous on someone who might become her benefactor? "If you have something more urgent than treating me right now, just let me know." The poison was simply meant to temporarily take away his physical freedom. It was light, yet strong enough to make him reconsider any thought of leaving. "...I do have a prior engagement with my companion." "Oh?" Salana smiled a bitter smile. It was a well-known fact that assassins didn't favor typical conversational methods. They were well aware of the futility of conversation. They possessed two more efficient methods. Coaxing and threatening. Normally, Salana would persist in deep conversations with Risir as the cheerful adventurer—but she had no room to maintain such composure now. The anxiety that Risir might leave prompted the assassin to wrap up the conversation swiftly. Now for the coaxing. "Well, if that's the case, there's no helping it." Salana activated her poison. Risir immediately responded. "So, could I briefly check in with my companion?" "? He carried on speaking, meeting Salana's gaze calmly. "I hadn't planned to go this far, but I've changed my mind. It's my first time dealing with something like this—I feel the need to see it through. Could you cooperate with me?" "...O-Of course! Cooperation! Naturally, I'd be happy to help." Salana was flustered. She was overwhelmed because the poison had no effect, and Risir's words deviated from her expectations. Master of the Assassin Guild's Black Hand. Black Five Snake. This was the first time she had shown such a flustered reaction to someone else. *** "You weren't able to heal it either? Well, I suppose it's a matter worth prioritizing over our appointment. I'll let it slide this time." Fienne grumbled about the broken dining appointment, but she readily accepted Risir's explanation that followed. "I have someplace to stop by for a bit too. Could you come with me?" "Someplace to stop by?" "Yes. In fact, I also had a prior engagement. I was planning to consult an expert about this damned skin." "Oh, my apologies. Because of me—" "Don't apologize." Salana quickly hugged Risir's shoulder. "Just like Risir prioritized me over his girlfriend, I'll prioritize Risir now. To be honest, getting help from Risir might be more beneficial than consulting those two people. Yet, I'm heading to them just in case." "Just in case?" "Just in case their opinions might be beneficial to you, Risir." "Ah, indeed. I thought the same. I wanted to ask you many things regarding Miss Salana's ailment." As they walked through the streets, they noticed the buildings and clothing styles of passersby changed dramatically. They had left the commercial district where the inn was located and entered the magical district. "By the way, you mentioned experts earlier—who are they?" "One of them is a fairly renowned scholar in this city. An elite mage of the Keg Tower." "Oh..." Risir’s eyes glinted with interest. 'If they're an elite mage of a mage tower, even high-ranking nobles might find it hard to arrange a meeting, right?' Just like a top-level adventurer, the connections she employed were extraordinary. Risir recalled the unexpected bonus this matter might bring and felt content. A top-level adventurer. For his first connections since arriving in the city, it was certainly quite the luxury. "And the other one—though it's a bit embarrassing to say—is a shaman." "A shaman?" "You may not believe it, but this person has provided the only considerable help for my skin disease. I once received assistance, and it was effective, so I meet them periodically for treatment." "By treatment, you mean—" "She performs a ritual, and I drink a potion. It might sound silly, but it really helps." "A ritual... potion..." Risir repeated the words as he focused on Salana's ailing skin. Soon, they arrived at an underground laboratory located on the fringes of the magical district. "This is my lab. I set it up for the shaman I mentioned." As Salana had noted, two people were already present in the laboratory. 'Dreadlocks? Quite hip,' Risir marveled quietly. An elderly man with long braided gray hair and beard engaged in a serious conversation with a young woman adorned with red patterns on her face. "Oh? Salana, you're here," the elder greeted her warmly. "I was quite surprised. When I heard you had an expert helping you with that troublesome skin disease, I expected someone significant—but a barbarian?" "A barbarian? You weren't rude to my savior, were you?" "At first! Unintentionally. I mean, how often do you converse with a barbarian? But I'm fine now. I've come to realize her knowledge is far from barbaric. Shamanism! What a mysterious, fascinating, and savage power it is!" The shaman offered a gentle nod to Salana. "Salana, it’s been a while." "Ah. Indeed, it's been a while, Glia. Thank you for coming too, Sir Meltas." "Ha! It's only polite to thank an old man for making such a heavy trip. Yes, it is. But Salana—who’s the young man beside you?" Risir stepped forward to introduce himself. "My name is Risir." "Oh, Risir. So then." "Pardon?" "Which family does the Risir name come from?" "Oh, I can't disclose that. I'm a bastard of the family." "Hmm." Meltas nodded, a trace of displeasure crossing his face. "So, Risir the bastard. What brings you here?" "Sir Meltas, Risir is here to assist me," Salana interjected, her tone somewhat discontented. Meltas mirrored her discontent, his expression souring. A bastard, not even beyond the third rank, invited to this esteemed space on equal grounds with him? "Then you won't be needing my help." Without hesitation, Meltas rose from his seat. Following suit, Shaman Glia stood and approached Salana with quick strides. Observing Salana’s face, Glia's expression twisted with concern. "Salana, has something happened?" "Something happened?" "Your condition... it's severely deteriorated." She retrieved a bottle of green potion from her bosom and handed it to Salana. "Please, drink this first." Salana instinctively took the bottle. But Risir snatched it from her hands in an instant. The color of the liquid inside the bottle changed abruptly. "What on earth are you—?!" "You—" "Both of you. What have you done here?" The bastard was one step ahead in questioning the elder and the shaman.