The beauty that blooms on the branches will one day wither.
For Collei, the missionary was the source of all her misfortune.
He brought the plague, the remnants of the demon god, and with them, pain and despair.
Old wounds may be forgotten, but blood debts are etched into memory.
For others, this was just a tragedy.
A tragedy that, after shedding a few tears, they would soon forget.
If the wound isn't on their own body, they'll never truly understand the pain.
But for Collei, this was her past, her experience.
When she survived the plague, she knew there was one thing she had to do in this life.
Find that man, and kill him...
Kill him.
Kill him!
At first, Collei merely walked toward the missionary, so he didn't pay much attention.
But once she reached a certain distance, she suddenly accelerated.
This speed caught the missionary off guard. He hadn't expected such a small frame to be capable of such explosive movement.
Fortunately, his experience saved him. He leaned back just enough to narrowly avoid Collei's dagger.
However, the dagger in Collei's hand was longer than he had anticipated.
So, while it didn't slit his throat, it still drew a thin line of blood.
Collei hadn't managed to cut his throat, but even though the missionary had misjudged, he had still dodged.
The blade had only grazed his skin, not hitting anything vital.
After her first strike failed, Collei didn't give the missionary a chance to recover.
Her hand holding the dagger lightly touched a hidden mechanism, and she flung the dagger backward.
"Hiss, hiss, hiss..."
The thrown dagger was connected to a thin wire.
Collei wasn't very skilled at manipulating wires, but she instinctively used a technique from her assassination training, and it had an unexpected effect.
The wire looped around the back of the missionary's neck and came to the front, where Collei caught it.
Collei had intended to strangle the missionary with the wire, but her lack of skill with it gave him an opening.
The missionary seized the moment to slip his arm into the loop of the wire. When the mechanism on the dagger began to retract, it didn't tighten around his neck but was blocked by his arm.
"Don't get too cocky, brat!"
The missionary, now with a moment to breathe, was starting to get angry. This kid was aiming for his vitals with every move. If it weren't for his combat experience, he would have died twice already.
Was this supposed to be a spar? It felt more like the kid was out for blood, as if he'd killed her father.
If Bailuo had been the one wielding the dagger, even if the missionary had dodged the wire, he would have found a way to follow up with another strike.
But Collei wasn't Bailuo. She couldn't match the missionary's strength as an adult, and even with the mechanism's assistance, the missionary managed to break free.
"You really are cut from the same cloth."
The missionary touched his neck, his fingertips coming away stained with blood.
If Bailuo hadn't had a habit of poisoning his blades, this would have been enough to cause serious trouble.
After licking the blood from his fingers, the missionary's face twisted into a fierce grin, and his eyes seemed to change.
Blood, even his own, had awakened the beastly nature of the demon god within him.
And then...
Collei ran.
That's right, Collei didn't hesitate. She sprinted toward the edge of Starsnatch Cliff and jumped off.
"Damn it!"
The missionary rushed to the edge, but not to pursue her—he wanted to save her.
He couldn't let her die in a fight with him.
He even began to suspect that this was all a setup by the Instructor. Maybe Bailuo wanted to take him out but lacked a reason, so he orchestrated this "suicide jump" to justify his actions?
But when he looked over the edge, he couldn't see any sign of Collei below.
"What exactly is... Ugh!"
Just as he was pondering whether this was some elaborate scheme by the Instructor, Collei appeared behind him and kicked him square in the backside.
The assassination techniques passed down by Bailuo were never about head-on combat.
Speed, precision, and stability were their core principles.
Speed meant striking quickly, catching the opponent off guard and ending the fight before they could react.
Prolonged battles were for fools; the goal was to finish the fight in a single move.
Precision meant hitting the target accurately.
If you could strike a vital point, you never missed.
If the opportunity wasn't there, it was better not to strike at all—wait for the perfect moment to make a decisive move.
Stability was self-explanatory—steadiness.
It was the most important aspect of Bailuo's assassination techniques.
If the situation turned bad, you ran. No hesitation.
As long as you were alive, you could always find another chance to strike.
Winning was what mattered, even if it meant using underhanded methods.
When Collei had seemingly jumped off Starsnatch Cliff, she had actually used the wire to swing around to the other side.
The missionary, too busy wondering if this was some conspiracy, hadn't noticed her circling behind him.
What's more, after kicking him off the cliff, Collei didn't even consider saving him. Instead, she pushed a large rock over the edge.
It was a spot where couples often sat during dates, but now it was the missionary's death warrant.
"You really are cut from the same cloth!"
Clutching his weapon, the missionary barely managed to cling to the cliffside, repeating his earlier words.
But this time, there was no hint of praise—only gritted teeth.
He had seen Bailuo's methods before, but he hadn't expected this kid to mimic them so perfectly. It was like they were carved from the same mold.
The missionary's weapon was a peculiar curved blade, divided into four segments. Using the power of the demon god's remnants, he could remotely control these segments, giving it a feel similar to sword manipulation.
But without the power of the demon god's remnants... it was just a piece of junk.
A fragile blade that would break at the slightest touch.
But the missionary had no choice. This kid was clearly out for blood. If he didn't fight back now, he would die here!
"Remember this moment, brat! You'll learn what true divine power is!"
Clinging to the cliffside, the missionary tore off his cloak, revealing marks on the side of his neck.
These marks looked like wounds from something being driven into his flesh, surrounded by bulging veins.
The missionary didn't unleash his full power. If he did, he would also suffer the burns of the black flames.
For a little thing like this, it wasn't worth it.
A phantom resembling a lion appeared behind the missionary. It had three horns on its head, a forked tongue like a snake's, and muscles that clearly hinted at explosive strength.
As the phantom emerged, it let out a roar, only to see... a person.
A man in a black coat and white mask stood behind Collei. He seemed ordinary, with no aura of intimidation.
But the phantom behind him...
Its icy gaze, with just one look, gave the lion phantom the illusion that its very soul had been frozen.
There was no mistake. This was...
With a mournful cry, the remnants of the demon god vanished into the air, leaving the missionary bewildered.
No matter how he called out, it refused to reappear.