The Greatest Assassin Gets Reincarnated in Tensura

As I watched Rimuru's village slowly take shape, I allowed a small smirk to form. The Orc Lord's march had begun, but I made no move to interfere just yet. Clayman thought he was manipulating events from the shadows, but he didn't realize that Yuuki—the true mastermind he believed to be his ally—was already under my control.

Their petty schemes held no true weight unless I permitted them to. If I crushed every obstacle in Rimuru's path, he would never grow, never struggle, never learn. No—he needed trials, challenges to forge him into the ruler he was destined to become.

However, that didn't mean I would let just anyone run around unchecked.

The Moderate Harlequin Alliance had decided to play their own game, sending the Orcs after the Ogre Tribe to erase a potential threat before it could rise. Footman and Tear were somewhere in the Jura Forest, observing their work from the shadows, grinning like maniacs as they watched the massacre unfold.

Unacceptable.

I leaned back in my seat, eyes gleaming.

"Velzard, Ultima, Testarossa, Carrera."

My four lovers turned toward me, immediately understanding what I meant before I even spoke the words.

"Go."

A wicked smile spread across Carrera's face. "Oh? A little lesson in fear? I like this plan."

Testarossa chuckled, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face. "Shall we dress for the occasion?"

Ultima clapped excitedly. "Ooooh! You mean that look?"

Velzard, ever composed, simply smirked. "Understood."

The night fell upon the Jura Forest, its depths swallowing all light as a suffocating pressure spread through the air. Somewhere, deep within its darkest reaches, Footman and Tear sat on a high vantage point, watching the unfolding chaos below.

"Kuhahahaha! Look at them go! The Orcs are tearing through everything like starving beasts!" Footman bellowed, his round frame shaking as he laughed.

Tear giggled beside him, her eerie eyes glimmering. "It's beautiful, isn't it? All that despair, all that suffering…"

Then—

The world turned silent.

The air grew heavy, an oppressive force pressing down on their bodies. Footman's laughter stopped. Tear's smile faded.

And then, they appeared.

Four figures. Cloaked entirely in black, their presence almost seemed *unreal, as if they weren't standing in the physical world but merely manifestations of the abyss itself. Their outfits were unlike anything this world had ever seen—sleek, layered, blending perfectly into the darkness, with ominous glowing red visors covering their eyes.

The shadows shifted, twisted, and wrapped around them, making it impossible to discern who or what they were.

And then—

One of them stepped forward.

A black boot crushed the ground beneath it, sending a tremor through the air. A voice followed, smooth yet dripping with condescension.

"Enjoying yourselves?"

Footman and Tear flinched.

They had been found.

Tear's eyes darted around wildly. "W-Who—?! How—?!"

Footman growled, standing up. "Tch! Doesn't matter! Whoever you are, you just signed your death warrant!"

Then, with a flicker of motion too fast to register, they attacked.

Ultima moved first. One second, she was standing still. The next, she was behind Tear, whispering into her ear.

"Boo~"

Before Tear could react, a fist buried itself into her stomach.

CRACK!

Tear gagged, her body folding in on itself as she was launched through several trees, smashing through them like paper.

Footman roared, swinging both of his massive arms toward Velzard, but—

He hit nothing.

Velzard was gone.

"Too slow."

A foot slammed down on his head.

BOOM!

The ground caved in beneath him, forming a crater. Footman's entire body was flattened against the dirt, his mask cracking from the sheer force.

Testarossa appeared in front of Tear, who had barely managed to stagger back to her feet. The Harlequin's body trembled.

"W-What are you…?" Tear gasped.

Testarossa smiled. It was the kind of smile that promised nightmares.

"The ones who watch."

A single flick of her finger sent Tear spiraling through the air again, crashing into Footman just as he was trying to stand. The two Harlequins collapsed together, groaning in agony.

Carrera approached slowly, stepping over the rubble with an arrogant strut.

"Pathetic. Is this really all the terror of the Harlequins amounts to? I expected more."

Tear coughed, blood dripping from her lips.

Footman snarled, pushing himself up. "Damn… you…! You think… this is over?"

Velzard stepped forward, towering over them, her cold gaze sending chills down their spines.

"It is over. But don't worry…"

She leaned down slightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"…We'll be watching."

Then, with one final move, all four of them vanished—

—disappearing into the shadows like they were never there.

Footman and Tear remained on the ground, their bodies aching, their minds clouded with a new kind of fear.

They had been beaten. Not just physically, but mentally, completely, and utterly dominated.

And worst of all—

They didn't even know who their enemies were.

Tear trembled, hugging herself. "W-We're being watched…"

Footman clenched his fists. "We have to tell Clayman…! This is bigger than we thought…"

Carved into the ground near them were four words.

"YOU ARE BEING WATCHED."

From my throne, I let out a small chuckle as I watched their despair unfold on my screen.

I leaned back, satisfied.

"Now then, let's see what happens next."

Footman and Tear limped through the darkness, their usually confident strides reduced to a frantic, disoriented stumble. The beating they had endured wasn't just physical—it was psychological. Their bodies ached, their pride was shattered, and worst of all…

They had no idea who their attackers were.

The two finally reached their hidden base, a concealed underground chamber somewhere, where Laplace was waiting for them. He sat lazily on a couch, juggling dice in his palm, his usual mischievous grin in place.

But the moment he saw their battered state, the dice clattered to the floor.

"Oho? Well, ain't this a surprise?" Laplace chuckled, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes. "You two look like ya just got ran over by a stampede of berserkers. What happened?"

Tear shook her head violently, her body trembling.

"It… it wasn't normal, Laplace…! W-We were attacked!"

Footman gritted his teeth, fists clenched. "They came out of nowhere. We never even sensed them! Four of them… dressed all in black, moving like ghosts… and stronger than anything we've ever fought."

Laplace's grin faded.

"Four in black…?" He narrowed his eyes. "Hold on a sec… ya ain't talkin' about the 'Eminence somethin' people, are ya?"

Tear snapped her gaze to him. "You know them?!"

Laplace rubbed his chin, his usual carefree attitude momentarily absent.

"Not much… Just whispers. Legends, really. Heard of 'em a while back—four ghosts who only show up at night, striking without warning, leavin' no trace but a message: 'We are watching.'"

A cold shiver ran down Tear's spine. "That's exactly what they said to us…"

Footman growled. "Damn it! If they're watching us, then they know about our entire plan!"

Laplace sighed, his easygoing demeanor slowly returning. "Welp, guess that means we gotta let Clayman know. And more importantly… our real boss."

Tear frowned. "You think Yuuki knows something about them?"

Laplace smirked, his golden eyes gleaming. "Oh, sweetheart, Yuuki knows about everything."

With that, the decision was made.

They had to report this.

And soon.