SEC #310 - Chapter 44: The Hunt from the Black and White Courtyard (Part 2)
#310 - Chapter 44: The Hunt from the Black and White Courtyard (Part 2)
Arya recalled that among the items she had touched today, only the adhesive she used when applying the human skin mask might have been mixed with poison. Despite having taken emergency measures, the poison had already spread wildly within her body. Now, her vision was rapidly deteriorating, and the world before her was becoming increasingly blurry. She could barely make out objects within a five-meter radius; anything beyond that was just a hazy outline.
In such a dark night, this situation undoubtedly made things even worse for Arya. However, she did not succumb to her predicament. Instead, relying on her memory, she skillfully evaded capture and slipped into this slum. She knew that only in this way could she create more trouble for the enemies who were hot on her heels.
In reality, if Arya could successfully escape to Rezonico Island, she might be able to obtain the protection of Master Galon. However, reality is always cruel and merciless. Right now, it was unrealistic for her to cross such a long distance at night, and even her current physical condition would not allow it.
Suddenly, a series of hurried and anxious footsteps shattered the silence of the night like thunder. Arya's nerves tightened, and she became alert, quickly looking around. In an instant, she heard whispers all around her. Although the voices were soft, they were exceptionally clear, and the fragments of words that reached her ears were worrying—
"Something happened!"
"The Iron Bank!"
"The sea is flooding in!" and so on...
Arya was momentarily confused, unable to figure out exactly what was happening, but intuitively judged that this matter must be related to the earth-shattering noise from just now. Sure enough, before long, several dark figures flashed across the street like lightning. Judging by their attire, they were clearly city guards. This group of people arrived aggressively and began to brutally drive away the stray children by the roadside without saying a word.
Arya's heart tightened, and she thought to herself: Could it be that the House of Black and White has alarmed even the city guard in order to hunt me down? Without delay, she decisively turned around and plunged into a nearby narrow alley. At this moment, she had no time to pay attention to her surroundings, and could only follow the fleeing paupers step by step. After this chaotic run, Arya was already dizzy and had no idea where she was.
In the endless darkness, Arya stumbled around like a headless fly. Suddenly, she crashed into a wall, lost her balance, and fell heavily to the ground. The impact made her dizzy, but she endured the pain and struggled to quickly get up from the ground.
However, the moment she stood up, a strong sense of fatigue surged into her heart like a tide, as if a thousand pounds of weight were pressing down on her. Her legs were weak, and she could only barely support her body with her willpower, eventually leaning helplessly against the wall, panting heavily, trying to calm her disordered breathing.
Just then, a low and mysterious voice, like a ghost, rang in her ear: "Little mouse, you look very tired! Thanks to the grace of the Many-Faced God, I can meet you here."
Arya struggled to raise her head, widened her eyes, and tried her best to see who was speaking. Her vision gradually cleared, and she saw a figure in a black robe standing quietly not far away, his face covered by a strange mask.
"Waif!" Arya gritted her teeth and said. "I never thought that even after running so far, I still can't get rid of you, you relentless pursuer!"
The Waif slowly drew the sword from her waist, the blade gleaming coldly. She replied in an icy tone: "No one can escape the pursuit of the Faceless Men, and you are no exception."
Arya bit her lip, supported herself against the wall, and stood up unsteadily. At the same time, she tightly gripped the short sword in her hand, glared at the other party without fear, and said sternly: "Since there is no escape, then let's fight! In previous encounters, you were no match for me."
The Waif sneered, raised her sword, and stabbed at Arya. Arya dodged to the side and counterattacked with her short sword. Although her movements were a bit strenuous, her consciousness had already captured the opponent's movements, but her body's reaction was a bit slow.
The two exchanged blows, and the blades clashed, making crisp sounds. Arya was kicked in the side by the Waif, and staggered back several steps, stopping only when she leaned against the wall. Arya felt that she was gradually adapting to her physical discomfort. The Waif pounced again, her cold, gleaming weapon aimed straight at her throat.
Arya found an opening in her opponent's defense and kicked the Waif's knee, causing her to lose her balance. Taking this opportunity, Arya rushed forward, her short sword stabbing into the Waif's throat. The Waif hurriedly blocked with her sword, but Arya's offensive became more and more fierce. "Swish, swish, swish, swish," seven consecutive sword strikes, each one stronger than the last, forced her to retreat repeatedly.
At the critical moment, Arya used all her strength to swing her weapon, and the two weapons collided, "Clang!" directly breaking the opponent's short sword. The Waif's expression changed drastically upon seeing this, and she quickly retreated.
Arya naturally wouldn't give her a chance, and pounced on her, using her own weight to knock the Waif over. The two rolled around entangled. The Waif pressed down on Arya. Arya gripped the blade with her left hand, not letting go even as she was cut and bled profusely. Her other hand gripped the wrist of Arya's sword-wielding hand, preventing her sword from stabbing any further.
Before the Waif could breathe a sigh of relief, her eyes suddenly widened, revealing a horrified expression. Because Arya's left hand drew another short blade from the hilt, and in the Waif's terrified expression, mercilessly stabbed it into her throat. Her warm blood sprayed all over Arya's face, and she quickly lost her life.
Forcefully pushing away the corpse, Arya leaned against the wall, adjusting her breathing. This battle had exhausted her, but it had also strengthened her determination to live.
"Pat... pat!" A person walked out of the shadows, stopping about 20 steps away from Arya.
"Girl, congratulations on your victory. This person looks young, but she trained in the same batch as someone. The girl being able to kill her is even more excellent than someone imagined." The person lifted his hood; it was Jaqen.
Arya leaned against the wall, gripping the sword in her hand even tighter. She slowly opened her mouth: "Jaqen, are you here to kill me?"
Jaqen: "Unfortunately, the order came directly from the Shepherd, and someone cannot refuse. The girl violated the rules and must pay the corresponding price. Someone will only strike once. If the girl can survive, she will be free."
"Very good, No One, then you can leave!" A voice interrupted their conversation, and another person walked out of the shadows.
The newcomer held a bright silver thin sword that shimmered with a cold light. He was short, only about one and a half meters tall. His steps were light and agile, as if he were swimming in water, giving people a illusory and unreal feeling.