Does the Assassin Girl Dream of the Mana Doll?

The Inhuman and the Assassination Tool

“Surprising,” Ghost spoke as she emerged from the door, “I thought I had gone unnoticed.”

“Oh, so you’re actually here? I must say that I’m impressed with myself.”

“Could it be… It was just a lucky guess?”

“Well, I had a hunch that something was off, but yeah, I suppose luck was on my side. Even if I was wrong, I wouldn’t be embarrassed now that these guys lie dead, hahaha!” Curtis laughed, his carefree demeanor contrasting the fact that he had just slaughtered his companions.

Ah, we’re kindred spirits, thought Ghost to herself.

She realized that something, somewhere, was broken within both of them—a power beyond measure and a consciousness that defied human understanding. These aspects felt remarkably familiar.

“I see… You’ve caught me. But the real match begins now.” Her voice low, as she drew closer slowly and silently without a hint of footsteps.

At the sight of the figure, Curtis arched an eyebrow, a sense of discomfort clinging to him. What is this feeling?

After observing her for a few more seconds, a realization struck him. He couldn’t perceive her movements, or more precisely, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she initiated her actions.

For an average person, there are usually preparatory movements before they actually start moving. Even something as basic as walking involves subtle shifts in the center of gravity and other motions that help guide the action.

Yet, she lacked all that. She moved as if controlled by invisible strings, like a puppet. Her motions were devoid of discernible initiation, unaffected by gravity, and she seemed to glide, almost floating.

Ghost steadily advanced towards him, her steps precise without any unnecessary motion.

“Oh, you’re skilled!” he exclaimed. Even so, there’s no need to be afraid as long as I stay vigilant. I’ll strike her down before she can even react.

The distance between them seemed too great for his sword to reach. However, after a while, the moment finally arrived when she stepped within his range. At that instant, he surged forward like an explosive force.

In the realm of swordsmanship, there existed a concept known as the “one step, one sword” distance. It represented the range covered by a single step, within which the outstretched sword could find its mark.

For an ordinary person, this distance typically amounted to about 1 meter gained through a step forward, matched by the length of the sword itself, resulting in an approximate range of 2 meters. A true master might extend it to around 3 meters.

Curtis was no ordinary.

With astonishing speed, he closed the gap in the blink of an eye, exceeding a distance of 5 meters. His sword arced high above him, its cutting edge capable of rending iron apart.

But Ghost was equally exceptional. Having carefully observed Curtis beforehand, she understood his range and knew that such a feat was within his reach.

She saw it coming.

With her shortsword firmly in hand, she intercepted the lightning-fast sword strike, seemingly matching its speed.

Her own movements appeared slower when compared to Curtis’s sword. However, just before his longsword could reach her head, she swiftly broke through his attack, skillfully entwining her sword around its side, effectively diverting its force.

Despite being noticeably slower, her movements were unnaturally refined without any wasted motion. It was a level of precision that surpassed even the most sophisticated machinery, achieved through relentless and intense practice.

And thus, the gap in speed between her and Curtis began to diminish.

Curtis had already anticipated the parry before it even occurred. Without resistance, he allowed himself to be swept along exactly as he had predicted. He then swiftly altered his course.

Riding the momentum, he quickly spun around, delivering a horizontal sweep in retaliation.

Sensing the shift in momentum caused by the parried sword, Ghost realized that she couldn’t fully disrupt it. She prepared herself to evade by making subtle adjustments to her center of gravity.

The blade came at her much faster than she had anticipated.

Without a moment’s hesitation, her body reacted instinctively, propelling her backward. In that instant—or rather, within a fraction of a second—the blade sliced through the air where her torso had just been, barely grazing the rigid leather of her breastplate.

Maintaining her backward momentum, she took a few steps back, repositioning herself and readying her shortsword once again.

“Well, well, that was quite impressive,” Curtis chuckled, his delight seemed genuine. “No one has ever survived two of my strikes before, you know.”

However, beneath his laughter, his eyes did not share the amusement. He was frustrated by his failure to finish her off.

“Indeed, it appears we are evenly matched,” Ghost replied casually, seizing the opportunity to catch her breath discreetly.

As an expert in ambushes, engaging in a direct confrontation like this took a significant toll on her energy. For the time being, she held her ground, but if the battle persisted in this manner, it was evident that she would eventually be overwhelmed.

“Looks like I’ll be in the clear for a while if I manage to best you!” With those words lingering in the air, Curtis once again lunged forward, even faster than before. It was clear that he still had untapped reserves of energy.

Ghost was aware that his initial attack had not been unleashed with full force, falling short of the utmost speed she had envisioned. As for the second strike, it aligned with her expectations but pushed the boundaries of the speed she had anticipated.

I’ll handle this too! Her focus unwavering as she somehow managed to deflect the descending blade.

In a split second, she leaped to evade the upward strike aimed at her feet. Within the constraints of her mid-air maneuver, Curtis closed in on her.

Using her shortsword, she deflected his thrust while seamlessly rolling to the ground. Without wasting a moment, she regained her footing. Curtis advanced once more, this time feigning a horizontal strike.

It was a diversion, a clever ruse.

The anticipated slashing motion transformed into a sudden thrust, cunningly aimed closer to her torso.

Sensing the imminent attack, she evaded it by leaping sideways. Continuing her fluid roll, she swiftly distanced herself, creating a significant gap between them.

“Isn’t it time for you to surrender?” Curtis taunted, displaying no signs of exhaustion despite launching a relentless barrage of attacks.

Meanwhile, Ghost maintained a composed expression, but her breath came in labored gasps.

“It’s my job, so…” She took a deep breath, fully aware that it wouldn’t fully replenish her energy. She couldn’t afford to provide her opponent with any openings.

Closing the distance with unwavering determination, she pressed forward.

“Oh? You’ve got some guts, huh?” Curtis remarked, caught off guard by her sudden action. Yet, his instincts swiftly kicked in, allowing him to sense the impending danger.

With the grace of a seasoned warrior, he firmly planted his feet, poised to confront her head-on—or so it seemed.

In a fleeting moment of stillness, followed by an explosive burst of speed, he surged forward.

Her breathing wavers. With my longsword and her shortsword, the advantage lies in the distance. This is the end! he thought, confident in his imminent victory.

With impeccable timing, he unleashed a flawless strike, surpassing human reaction with blinding speed.

***

Author’s Note:

She had been known by the name for as long as she could recall. The reason behind it was obvious, almost painfully so. Yet, if she had to bear that name and shoulder its weight…

Up next: The Origin of the Ghost Moniker

It represented the bringer of death.