Assassin's Den

Imman woke up, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his body. His hand instinctively went to his side, where a bandage covered his wound. Right… he remembered now. The last thing he recalled was waking up in this unfamiliar world, lost in a dense forest.

As he searched for a way out, a pack of wolves had surrounded and chased him. He had run as fast as he could—so much so that he hadn't noticed the cliff's edge until it was too late. He had plummeted down, and everything had gone black.

By all accounts, he should be dead.

So someone must have saved him. But who? His brothers?

Before he could dwell on the thought, someone entered the tent. It was a man dressed in dark clothing, his attire reminiscent of the assassins Imman had seen in movies.

"You're awake," the man said.

"Did you bring me here?" Imman asked, studying him carefully.

"My men found you at the bottom of the cliff and brought you back. Perhaps because you resemble our former chief, I allowed them to tend to your wounds," the man replied.

"Your former chief?" Imman questioned, but the man didn't respond. Instead, he handed him a set of clothes.

"If you're feeling well enough, change into these and come outside," he said before leaving.

Imman watched him go before turning his attention to the clothes. After taking a moment to gather himself, he changed and stepped out of the tent.

The scene before him was bustling with activity. Some people were treating the wounded, others were engaged in serious discussions, and many were preparing weapons. A tense energy filled the air.

What exactly was going on here?

The man from earlier approached him again.

"Hey, what's your name?" he asked.

"Imman," he answered simply.

"Do you know how to fight?"

Imman hesitated. Of course, he did. His father had trained him since childhood in multiple martial arts—Bajiquan, Kickboxing, and Kali. Among his siblings, he was the only one with a strong passion for combat. However, true mastery took time, and at his age, he had only fully mastered three styles.

Despite his quiet nature and tendency to get bored easily, he always remained at his brothers' side during missions.

He also loved sweets. He had his own refrigerator in his room, full of treats—especially candies and lollipops.

But what would this man do if he admitted to knowing how to fight?

The man seemed to pick up on his silence.

"You see," he began, "we are at war with other kingdoms, and we need more fighters. I don't care who you are or where you come from. As long as you're not one of our enemies, I will accept you."

War?

Imman glanced around again, watching the soldiers sharpen their blades and patch up their wounds.

"What exactly are you people?" he asked.

The man unsheathed his sword and held it up.

"Assassins," he said.

Imman's eyes widened slightly.

He recalled how his father used to tell him stories about assassins when he was young. He had thought they were just myths, legends from history or exaggerated movie plots. But now, standing here, surrounded by them, he realized they were real.

"If you can fight, then prepare yourself. My men will train you and explain our battle plans," the man said.

"I understand," Imman replied.

If he wanted to survive in this world, he had to adapt. He needed to learn the rules, uncover the truth about this place, and figure out a way to return home.

The man called over one of his subordinates and gave him instructions before walking away. The assassin assigned to him turned to Imman.

"Come with me," he said.

Imman followed without a word.

"By the way, I'm Daiki," he introduced himself. "Chief assigned me to train you. You're Imman, right?"

Imman nodded.

"Chief Hikari is a good man," Daiki added. "You don't have to be afraid of him."

So his name is Hikari, huh?

Afraid? I'm not afraid of him anyway.

He just had to figure out how to navigate this world. That was all.

.

.

Hikari watched as Imman followed Daiki.

He couldn't understand why, but the moment he first saw Imman, he was reminded of his former chief, Ryu Ishikawa.

The resemblance was uncanny.

As he observed Imman, he noticed something unusual—there was no fear in his eyes. Even after learning that he was in an assassins' den, he remained calm. Most outsiders would have panicked, but Imman seemed unfazed, as if he had faced danger countless times before. It was as if battles and armed strangers were nothing new to him.

If Chief Ryu had survived the expedition… could it be possible that Imman was his son?

Hikari needed to find out.

For now, he would keep a close watch on Imman.

.

.

.

....

"Good morning, Your Majesty. It's time for breakfast," Jinny greeted as she gently helped Matias sit up in bed.

As she did, her eyes flickered to his neck. The dark marks had grown even larger.

Before she could say anything, Matias suddenly coughed—blood spilling from his lips.

"Y-Your Majesty!" she gasped, panic rising in her chest.

But Matias reached out, grasping her hand with a weak yet firm grip. He shook his head slightly, signaling that he was fine.

Jinny bit her lip, her heart heavy with worry. She quickly grabbed a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his mouth.

"I'll prepare your medicine, Your Majesty," she said softly.

Matias gave a small nod in response.

While preparing the medicine, Jinny stole a glance at him. She had known he was ill, but she hadn't realized just how severe it was.

When the medicine was ready, she handed it to him, watching as he drank it without hesitation.

After breakfast, Matias decided to take a stroll in the garden.

Jinny followed closely behind him, accompanied by the knights. The emperor walked to the fountain and sat down, letting the fresh air wash over him.

As she stood guard, Jinny caught sight of Sir Yehuda walking through the courtyard with his troops. They were heading out of the palace.

Noticing her gaze, Sir Yehuda turned and smiled at her.

Jinny instinctively smiled back.

But before she could look away, Matias spoke.

"Are you two dating?"

Jinny's eyes widened in shock.

"Y-You misunderstand, Your Majesty! I wouldn't dare!" she stammered, quickly bowing her head.

Matias smirked. "So you like him?"

Jinny averted her gaze, her hands tightening around the folds of her dress. She couldn't respond.

Because if she did, she'd be admitting the truth.

Her silence told Matias everything he needed to know.

His expression darkened. "We don't have time for romance here. We are at war. Love will only hinder him. You understand that, right?" His gaze was sharp, unwavering.

Jinny swallowed hard. "O-Of course, Your Majesty. I would never become a distraction to Sir Yehuda."

Matias gave a slow nod, then leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

Jinny lowered her head, a heavy sadness settling in her chest.

Yes… she couldn't afford to be a distraction to Sir Yehuda.

No matter how she felt.