The two men remained standing in silence for several moments after their argument ended.
Neither spoke.
The bustling crowd continuously flowed around them while merchants called out to passing customers from both sides of the street. The lively atmosphere of the Grand Bazaar seemed completely detached from the tension lingering between the pair.
Eventually, the second man let out a quiet sigh.
"There is no point staying here any longer."
Without waiting for a response, he turned around and began walking away.
The first man simply watched his companion disappear into the crowd.
Truthfully, he understood his companion's reasoning. If the Hall Family had truly become involved, then the mission had already failed. Continuing the pursuit would only expose them unnecessarily, something every assassin tried to avoid. However, understanding the situation did little to ease the frustration lingering within him. Half of their payment was already gone, and several days of careful preparation had all been wasted for nothing.
His eyes unconsciously drifted toward the direction of the Grand Bazaar.
At the very least, before leaving the city, he wanted to take a look around and perhaps buy a few souvenirs to bring back. Besides, there was still a small part of him that refused to completely give up. The city was already spreading rumors that Aton Lyn would be appearing at the Grand Bazaar, and although he did not fully believe them, there was always the possibility that fortune might favor him one last time.
If he happened to encounter that sickly brat there, then perhaps this entire operation could still be salvaged.
The thought immediately improved his mood.
"Tsk... might as well."
Muttering quietly to himself, he followed the stream of pedestrians heading toward the plaza.
The closer he got to the center of the Grand Bazaar, the more crowded the streets became.
Merchants stood in front of their stalls while loudly advertising various products. The smell of freshly cooked food mixed with the scents of spices and perfumes drifting through the air. Children ran between the adults while travelers carrying large bags and boxes walked in the opposite direction after finishing their purchases.
The atmosphere was lively.
Peaceful.
The lively atmosphere around him almost made him forget that, just a short while ago, he had been participating in an assassination attempt.
As he quietly blended into the crowd and walked toward the Grand Bazaar, a strange feeling suddenly emerged from behind him. It was neither aura nor bloodline power. In fact, he was not even expanding his senses at the moment. Yet the countless life-and-death situations he had experienced over the years instinctively made him react.
Without hesitation, he immediately turned around while his right hand subconsciously reached beneath his robe and rested upon the hidden weapon strapped near his torso, ready to strike if necessary.
However, his movement abruptly stopped.
"D-do... do you have a c-coin, s-sir...?"
The weak and trembling voice made him pause.
Standing before him was a skinny figure wearing nothing more than a plain white shirt and black trousers. A dark green cloth covered the person's head and concealed most of his face, leaving only a pair of dull eyes exposed. His body was slightly hunched, while his thin arms and frail appearance made it seem as though a strong gust of wind would be enough to knock him over.
The assassin quietly observed the youth for a few moments.
'A sickly beggar?'
He quickly examined the other party from head to toe.
Male.
Still young.
Weak.
Harmless.
The tension in his body gradually disappeared.
'Dammit...'
Perhaps the failed mission and all the rumors surrounding the Hall Family had made him more vigilant than usual. To think that he had instinctively treated a starving beggar as a potential threat was honestly a little embarrassing.
Shaking his head inwardly, he withdrew his hand from his weapon and simply glared at the youth with cold eyes, hoping the latter would understand and leave on his own.
Unfortunately, the beggar seemed completely oblivious to the warning.
Instead, he slowly raised both hands toward him and spoke once more with the same hoarse and shaky voice.
"S-sir..."
"D-do you have... a c-coin...?"
The assassin finally lost his patience.
He slowly turned around and looked at the sickly beggar standing behind him. The latter still had both of his thin hands raised toward him, while his dull eyes quietly stared back beneath the dark green cloth covering his face.
"Brat."
A trace of irritation surfaced in the assassin's voice.
"Do you have a death wish!?"
Several pedestrians nearby instinctively turned their heads after hearing the shout, but quickly lost interest when they saw nothing more than a beggar pestering a passerby. Such scenes were not uncommon during the Grand Bazaar, especially in the poorer districts where countless homeless children wandered the streets every day.
The assassin naturally had no intention of killing the beggar.
Doing so in broad daylight, amidst such a crowded place, would only create unnecessary trouble. He simply wanted to frighten the annoying youth enough that he would stop following him.
Without another word, he raised his right arm and swung it forward, intending to strike the beggar across the face with the back of his hand.
However, before the blow could land, his movement abruptly stopped.
A pair of pale hands had somehow caught his wrist.
The assassin instinctively lowered his gaze.
Those hands were abnormally thin.
Not only was their skin was pale, but even the bones beneath the fingers could almost be traced through the flesh itself. They looked more like the hands of a terminally ill patient than those of an ordinary person.
They belonged to the beggar.
"What the—!?"
Confusion immediately filled his mind.
His attack had not been particularly fast, yet it was not something an ordinary person should have been able to stop so casually. More importantly, the grip itself felt strangely firm despite the owner's frail appearance.
Before he could process what had just happened, the beggar slowly raised his head.
The same person.
The same face.
Yet somehow, everything felt different.
The weak and trembling voice from earlier had completely disappeared.
Instead, what reached his ears was a calm and indifferent tone that carried almost no emotion at all.
"You shouldn't have doubted yourself."
The assassin's eyes widened slightly.
For a brief moment, he felt as though something cold had entered his body through the hands gripping his arm.
It was neither pain nor impact.
Rather, it resembled a strange current that silently flowed through his limbs before directly reaching his mind.
His thoughts abruptly stopped.
The bustling streets.
The noisy crowd.
The sounds of merchants.
Everything around him instantly faded into darkness.
For the assassin, the entire process happened so quickly that he never even understood what had killed him.
...
"Oi! Oi! What happened to that man!?"
"Eek!"
"He suddenly collapsed!"
Several startled voices immediately erupted from the surrounding crowd.
The assassin's body had fallen heavily onto the stone-paved street without any warning, causing nearby pedestrians to instinctively step backward.
One of them carefully approached and lowered himself to inspect the unconscious man.
Then his face immediately changed.
"L-look!"
"H-his eyes!"
The others hurriedly looked over.
Thin streams of blood were slowly flowing out from the corners of the assassin's eyes, causing several women nearby to scream in shock.
"Quick! Call the city guards!"
"Someone get a physician!"
"What happened to him!?"
The once orderly street immediately descended into confusion.
Most people had been minding their own business only moments earlier and were just as bewildered by the sudden incident as everyone else. A few vaguely remembered seeing a sickly beggar approach the man beforehand, but no one had paid enough attention to connect the two events together.
After all, there had been no struggle.
No visible attack.
No weapon.
The man had simply fallen to the ground.
Meanwhile, the beggar himself had already disappeared into the crowd.
His slightly hunched figure quietly moved together with the endless stream of pedestrians heading toward the Grand Bazaar, eventually blending so naturally into the surroundings that nobody spared him another glance.
...
'Fortunately, the two separated.'
Relict silently arrived at that conclusion while following the flow of people heading toward the plaza. If the two assassins had remained together, creating an opening like the one earlier would have been considerably more difficult.
Unfortunately, that also meant the remaining assassin was no longer worth pursuing.
Relict had already watched the other man leave in a direction opposite to the Grand Bazaar. Following him through the quieter districts of the city would have greatly increased the chances of being discovered, especially after witnessing how sensitive the assassins' instincts were.
Even amidst a crowded street, the man he had just eliminated had immediately sensed someone approaching from behind.
A place with fewer people would only work against him.
Moreover, there was always the possibility that the remaining assassin would discover his companion's corpse if Relict attempted to stalk him further. If that happened, the situation could easily become more troublesome than necessary.
Relict still trusted his earlier conclusion.
Three successive volleys.
Nine arrows.
Three separate firing positions.
There should be at least three assassins participating in the operation.
That was precisely why he chose to eliminate the one who remained near the Grand Bazaar first, even if it meant temporarily losing the whereabouts of the others.
'It doesn't matter.'
Relict quietly observed the countless people walking around him.
'If they still want my life, then there is no need for me to chase them.'
He had already memorized the dead assassin's voice, stature, and overall disposition during their brief interaction. The remaining accomplices would likely possess similar characteristics, and once they entered the range of his senses again, identifying them would not be particularly difficult.
For someone in his current situation, that was the most practical approach.
Aimlessly wandering through the busy streets of Abarrus without a concrete objective would only waste time.
If the assassins still intended to finish their mission, then eventually, they would come looking for him.
...
Meanwhile, at the very heart of the Grand Bazaar, an enormous plaza stretched across the center of Abarrus. Contrary to what many first-time visitors expected, it was not simply an open square where merchants gathered to sell their goods. Instead, the entire area was divided into two sections, commonly referred to by the locals as the Outer Circle and the Inner Circle.
Despite their names, neither of them was actually circular.
Rather, they were merely convenient terms that had gradually become accepted through years of tradition.
The Outer Circle occupied the vast majority of the plaza. Countless stalls and temporary tents were neatly arranged around the center, forming rows upon rows of merchants selling almost every kind of merchandise imaginable. Freshly cooked delicacies, handcrafted accessories, luxurious fabrics, imported wines, rare spices, antiques, and even various cultivation resources could all be found throughout the area.
Naturally, this was also where most of the visitors gathered.
Compared to the expensive auctions held deeper within the plaza, the goods sold in the Outer Circle were considerably more affordable. Families wandered between the stalls while merchants loudly promoted their products, creating an atmosphere that was both lively and chaotic. People from different territories and backgrounds mingled freely, making it one of the busiest places in the entire city.
At the very center of this sea of merchants stood a massive three-story structure.
Unlike the surrounding buildings, its entire shape was perfectly circular, giving it an appearance somewhat similar to an ancient colosseum. However, rather than serving as a place for bloodshed and combat, the building existed for an entirely different purpose.
It was where the Grand Bazaar's auctions were held.
The rarest treasures gathered from various regions, precious cultivation materials, ancient relics, and countless exotic goods eventually found their way into this building. Many wealthy merchants and noble families specifically traveled to Abarrus every year for the chance to participate in those auctions.
Because of that, entry into the building was naturally restricted.
Ordinary citizens could only admire it from afar, while those allowed to enter were usually influential merchants, aristocrats of the city, noble guests from distant territories, or representatives of the great families.
At this moment, the lively atmosphere surrounding the plaza was suddenly interrupted by several loud voices.
"Make way!"
"Make way!"
"The Hall Family is here!"
The repeated shouts immediately drew the attention of the surrounding crowd.
People instinctively stepped aside as several guards moved ahead, opening a clear path through the busy plaza. Shortly afterward, a luxurious carriage slowly emerged from one of the main streets and advanced toward the center while being escorted from all sides.
Whispers quietly spread throughout the crowd.
"The Hall Family..."
"I heard Lady Frisca herself came."
"So they're participating in the auction again this year."
The carriage continued moving forward without obstruction. The escorting guards repeated their announcements several more times until they finally reached the entrance of the circular building.
Waiting there was a small group of attendants and guards who had clearly prepared for their arrival beforehand.
Standing at the very front of them was a tall man whose appearance immediately stood out from the rest.
Two thin white horns extended from his forehead, while his height easily reached nearly two meters. He wore a perfectly tailored black tailless evening jacket over matching black trousers and polished leather shoes. Covering both of his hands were a pair of pristine white gloves, embroidered with an insignia that resembled a dazzling sun.
As the carriage slowly came to a stop and a figure emerged from it, the tall man took a single step forward before lowering his head in a respectful bow.
"Welcome to the Auctionarium, Lady Frisca Hall."
"It is our greatest joy to once again receive the gorgeous gem of the Hall Family."
...