Operation Night Hunter(part 1)

Vergil rode at the head of the Assassin Brotherhood, his black cloak billowing in the crisp autumn wind. Beside him, Freya matched his pace, her wolf-like ears twitching slightly as she observed the golden hues of the forest. Aeka and his four adopted daughters followed close behind, moving with the disciplined silence of trained assassins.

Vergil rode at the head of the Assassin Brotherhood, his black cloak billowing in the crisp autumn wind. Beside him, Freya matched his pace, her wolf-like ears twitching slightly as she observed the golden hues of the forest. Aeka and his four adopted daughters followed close behind, moving with the disciplined silence of trained assassins.

The journey to Grisveil Town took two full days, the dense woodland around them slowly giving way to signs of civilization. Along the way, Vergil and Freya took note of the shifting season. Autumn had arrived—a crucial detail.

Vergil narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the fallen leaves carpeting the forest floor. "Francia Magna Kingdom won't launch a full-scale attack now," he muttered. "Logistically, it wouldn't make sense. The elves here have the terrain advantage, and winter isn't far behind."

Freya nodded in agreement. "That gives us a window of time. We should use it wisely."

By the time they reached Grisveil Town, the sun had already begun its descent, casting long shadows over the rustic streets. The Assassin Brotherhood had traveled relentlessly, and the first order of business was clear—rest and regroup.

Vergil dismissed the assassins to take shelter and recover, but he and Aeka had other priorities. While the others rested, the two of them set out to survey potential locations for an Assassin Bureau within the town. If the Brotherhood was to establish a foothold here, they needed a secure and discreet base of operations.

As they wandered through the town, their sharp eyes scanned for opportunities. Amidst the rows of modest homes and small shops, Vergil's attention fell on a particular building—a two-story house with an attached shop, its windows shuttered and its entrance showing signs of neglect.

Aeka followed his gaze. "An abandoned property?"

Vergil approached a local villager who had been tending to a nearby stall. "This building… does it belong to someone?"

The old man glanced at it and shook his head. "Not anymore. The owner left for Avalorne about two months ago. No one's claimed it since."

Vergil exchanged a look with Aeka. This could be their chance. A hidden base disguised as an unassuming shop.

He allowed himself a small smirk. "Then let's see if we can make use of it."

After surveying Grisveil Town, Vergil and Aeka returned to the Assassin Brotherhood's temporary lodging. The night passed in quiet preparation, each assassin sharpening their weapons, reviewing their strategies, and resting for the inevitable conflicts ahead.

At dawn, the Brotherhood assembled, their black cloaks blending into the early morning mist. Black Shield Mercenary had also gathered, their hardened warriors standing in disciplined formations. The air was thick with tension as the assassins and mercenaries made their way to the military encampment where the royal army's commanders awaited them.

Once inside the war tent, Vergil stepped forward, his sharp blue eyes scanning the gathered leaders. Appolo, flanked by his most trusted mercenaries, took a seat across from the royal army's high command.

Vergil was the first to speak. "A winter offensive is out of the question. Supply chains will be strained, and cavalry movements will be hindered by the snow and frozen terrain." His voice was calm yet firm. "Any large-scale attack in these conditions would be reckless."

One of the kingdom's commanders, an older man with battle-worn features, nodded. "We agree. That's why our scouts have been tracking the movements of Francia Magna Kingdom's forces. We've confirmed their army is split into five separate encampments."

Appolo leaned forward, arms crossed. "Where are these camps located?"

Without hesitation, the royal commander spread out a detailed map of the region on the table. He pointed to several marked locations. "Here. Two of their largest camps are positioned here and here, likely serving as central command posts."

Vergil's gaze hardened. "Do you recognize the leaders of these five encampments?"

The commander nodded, sliding five photographs across the table. "I know them well."

Vergil picked up the photos and pinned them onto a board, scrutinizing each face as the commander began listing names.

"Lady Luna Motragane and Sword Saint Selene Vaeloria—both renowned swordmasters and tacticians. Their presence in this campaign is a clear sign Francia Magna Kingdom intends to use precise, strategic strikes rather than brute force."

Vergil's eyes lingered on the image of Selene Vaeloria, the title "Sword Saint" immediately catching his attention.

The commander moved to the next photo, tapping a silver-haired man in regal armor. "This is Daniel Dragonfang—the Sword Hero of Francia Magna Kingdom. He is perhaps their strongest warrior, personally chosen by the king to lead the vanguard."

Vergil's expression remained unreadable, though he took an extra moment to commit the man's face to memory. A Hero… an interesting opponent.

The commander pointed at another image. "Sir Leonado La Conamagma leads the second-largest camp. His forces are heavily fortified and well-disciplined."

Appolo's eyes narrowed. "That means the last camp must be their main headquarters."

The commander gave a solemn nod. "Exactly. And that means their supreme commander is stationed there."

Vergil exhaled slowly, analyzing the placements. "They will remain in these positions until spring. Once the snows melt, they'll advance."

The commander nodded again, then added, "Empress Elisa II will arrive at the main camp tomorrow under the protection of a combined force—the Royal Army, Assassin Brotherhood, and Black Shield Mercenary. She intends to negotiate before war becomes inevitable."

A moment of silence followed. The weight of the impending conflict loomed over them all.

Vergil finally spoke. "Then we have only one night left before diplomacy begins. Let's use it wisely."

Vergil and the Assassin Brotherhood moved like wraiths through the darkened landscape, their cloaks blending seamlessly into the night. For two hours, they remained hidden among the foliage and rocky outcroppings, silently observing the Francia Magna Kingdom's military encampments. Every detail was meticulously recorded—the positions of the watchtowers, the number of patrols, the size of the tents, and the movement patterns of the soldiers.

Once their reconnaissance was complete, the assassins retreated to Grisveil Town, slipping through the shadows unnoticed. Back at their temporary hideout, the Brotherhood gathered to debrief and share their findings.

Vergil stood at the center of the room, a large map of the enemy's encampments spread across the wooden table before him. The assassins, their faces illuminated by candlelight, began reporting their observations one by one.

Lira's team had scouted the main camp—the very heart of Francia Magna's military presence. "The entire area is surrounded by an anti-monster barrier," she reported, her voice calm yet firm. "Which means breaking through with a direct assault would be difficult. Additionally, numerous high-ranking officers are stationed there, suggesting this is their central command hub."

Aria, who had accompanied Lira, added, "We also spotted an unusually large tent near the center of the camp. Given its size and placement, it's likely the command headquarters where strategic decisions are made."

Vergil nodded, processing the information. "That means the enemy leadership is concentrated in that location. If we move against them, we'll need a clear plan."

The second Assassin team presented their findings next. They had been tasked with monitoring the encampments led by the two renowned swordmistresses—Lady Luna Motragane and Sword Saint Selene Vaeloria.

"Their forces are far smaller in number," one assassin reported, "but what they lack in size, they make up for in elite warriors. These troops are disciplined, highly trained, and carry themselves like veterans of many battles."

Vergil crossed his arms, deep in thought. "That could work to our advantage. A smaller force means they might be more vulnerable to disruption or misdirection."

A brief silence fell over the room as Vergil considered their next course of action. Then, he turned to Appolo, who had been listening intently. "If we coordinate with Black Shield Mercenary, we could launch a precision strike against one of the camps. A surprise attack—swift and brutal."

Appolo leaned forward, rubbing his chin. "Black Shield can hit fast and hard, while the assassins provide long-range support. If we strike at night, we can eliminate key targets before they even realize what's happening."

Aeka, standing by Vergil's side, chimed in. "We've successfully integrated the sniper rifle into our arsenal, and our assassins have begun training with it. Even my niece is proficient with it now."

Vergil glanced at Aeka, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "That gives us an edge. Precision fire from elevated positions could cripple their command structure before the real fight begins."

But before finalizing their plan, one key detail remained—the arrival of Empress Elisa II.

Vergil exhaled slowly. "We need to determine exactly where the Empress will be received during tomorrow's diplomatic meeting. That will allow us to position ourselves accordingly and adjust our tactics based on how the situation unfolds."

As the morning sun cast golden light over Grisveil Town, the arrival of Empress Elisa II was heralded by the rhythmic sound of hooves and the steady march of imperial soldiers. Accompanying her were royal ministers, court officials, and a contingent of Black Shield Mercenaries, led by Appolo. Their presence signified the gravity of the upcoming negotiations with the Crown Princess of Francia Magna Kingdom.

Standing at the entrance of the town, Vergil and the Assassin Brotherhood watched as the royal entourage approached. The assassins, clad in dark attire, bowed their heads slightly in respect but remained ever watchful. Vergil stepped forward to greet the Empress, his piercing blue eyes scanning the assembled officials.

"Your Majesty," Vergil said smoothly, "where will the negotiations take place?"

Empress Elisa II, a woman of regal poise and intelligence, regarded him with a measured gaze. "The Crown Princess has agreed to meet me at the main military encampment," she replied, her tone unwavering.

Vergil gave a small nod, already calculating the best positioning for the Brotherhood. "Understood. I will ensure my assassins are strategically placed throughout the area for security and support." He then turned to his followers and issued quiet commands. The assassins dispersed like shadows in the wind, slipping into predetermined vantage points along the route and around the enemy's camp.

As the royal carriage prepared to depart, Empress Elisa raised her hand slightly, signaling for Vergil to join her inside. The guards hesitated for only a moment before opening the door. Inside the luxurious, dark-wood interior, Appolo and a high-ranking royal commander were already seated.

As the carriage rolled forward, Vergil leaned back, his arms crossed, and addressed Appolo. "What's the current status of the Elves in Grisveil Town?"

Appolo sighed, rubbing his temple. "The Elves still refuse to conduct trade with Francia Magna Kingdom. They've made it clear that they will only deal with Black Shield Mercenaries." His expression darkened slightly. "I did, however, secure one vial of their alchemical medicine, just in case."

Vergil raised an eyebrow. "A bargaining chip?"

"Exactly." Appolo nodded. "If the Francia Magna Kingdom attempts aggression, we could use this as leverage to force their retreat."

Empress Elisa, who had been listening silently, finally spoke. "If we can resolve this without bloodshed, it will be better for all involved." She then turned her attention to the reports Vergil had compiled.

Vergil handed her a detailed map marked with enemy encampment locations, troop numbers, and strategic weak points. Empress Elisa studied it carefully, while Appolo leaned in, his sharp eyes scanning the intel.

"These reports are… impressive," Appolo admitted. "Your Brotherhood's surveillance is as thorough as ever."

Empress Elisa traced her fingers over the designated sniper positions and escape routes. "This level of detail will give us an advantage, should negotiations turn sour."

She then glanced at Vergil, her gaze contemplative. "Once this matter is settled, I may have an assignment for you. There are diplomatic issues abroad that require individuals of your skillset."

Vergil met her gaze evenly. "I am willing to go, if needed. However, if Freya is to accompany me, she must make that decision herself."

Empress Elisa gave a knowing smile. "Of course."

Upon arriving at the camp, Empress Elisa dismounted, accompanied by the royal army commander, Vergil, and Appolo. The soldiers of the Francia Magna Kingdom watched the group with expressionless gazes, showing no visible reaction. However, the moment they laid eyes on Appolo, their expressions changed into ones of pure hatred.

Empress Elisa remained composed and immediately sought an audience with the leader of the opposing forces. As she had anticipated, a blond-haired prince clad in armor with simple yet distinct decorations stood among the soldiers and officers. Unlike the rest, he exuded an aura of nobility and authority.

The prince stepped forward and introduced himself.

"I am Prince Arthuroa of the Francia Magna Kingdom."

Empress Elisa acknowledged his introduction with a nod, accepting his welcome. Without delay, the prince invited his guests into the command tent, where he motioned for Empress Elisa, Appolo, and Vergil to take their seats before initiating the negotiations.

Empress Elisa II wasted no time and asked directly, "What is the primary reason behind the Francia Magna Kingdom's attack on the Britalienne Empire's territory?"

Prince Arthuroa, maintaining a calm demeanor, replied, "I have no interest in prolonged, meaningless war. My only goal is to obtain medicine from the Elven race. Once I have it, my forces will withdraw immediately."

Empress Elisa narrowed her eyes slightly, scrutinizing the young prince before speaking again. "Could it be that your fiancée is gravely ill?"

Prince Arthuroa's composed expression wavered slightly, but he did not deny it. With a deep breath, he admitted, "I have been searching for this medicine for five years. A traveler once told me that the Elves granted him a potion that cured all his ailments, and now he lives peacefully as a farmer. If such a medicine truly exists, I will do whatever it takes to obtain it."

A brief silence filled the tent.

Vergil, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his deep voice carrying a firm intensity. "And so, you chose war as your path? Burning lands, slaughtering innocents, all for something you haven't even confirmed to be real?"

Prince Arthuroa met Vergil's gaze with determination, but beneath the surface, a flicker of doubt could be seen. "I had no other choice…"

Prince Arthuroa stated that they would wait for the right time to attack the Elven race. However, Empress Elisa raised an alternative, her voice calm yet firm.

"What if, before winter arrives, I attempt to acquire the medicine for you?"

Prince Arthuroa's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Then, without hesitation, he replied, "If you succeed, my entire army will withdraw immediately."

A small, knowing smile formed on Empress Elisa's lips. "Then, one more condition." She leaned slightly forward, her piercing gaze locking onto the prince. "If your forces cause any disorder during this time, I will authorize a joint assault from the Imperial Force, the Black Shield Mercenaries, and the Assassin Brotherhood. They will eliminate every last one of your men who have gathered here."

A cold shiver ran down Prince Arthuroa's spine. His throat felt dry as he swallowed hard. He had heard rumors—whispers that the Elves in Black Gate Forest had lost contact, with the survivors joining forces with the Black Shield Mercenaries. And the Assassins… they were nothing short of legends, feared throughout Lunafama.

The officers around him exchanged uneasy glances, murmuring among themselves. One of them scoffed quietly, "Those Assassins are nothing more than myths from Lunafama."

Vergil, who had remained eerily silent until now, shifted slightly. Under his hood, his piercing gaze landed on the officer who had spoken. Even without words, his presence sent waves of unease rippling through the Francia Magna Kingdom's elites. He could sense their fear—the subtle tension in their shoulders, the way their hands twitched near their weapons.

Then, Empress Elisa met Vergil's gaze and gave him a small nod.

Without hesitation, Vergil clenched his fist. In an instant, he extended a single finger—pointing directly at one of the officers.

A sudden, sickening crack echoed in the air. The officer's body stiffened, his eyes bulging in horror. A clean hole had appeared in the middle of his forehead, blood pouring down his face as he collapsed lifelessly onto the ground.

Panic erupted in the tent.

Prince Arthuroa and his remaining officers recoiled in terror, some instinctively reaching for their weapons but freezing halfway, knowing it was futile. The officers who recognized the fallen man rushed to his body, their faces pale with shock.

Empress Elisa's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and merciless.

"This is merely a glimpse of what the joint forces can do."

Her gaze swept across the room, making sure her message was seared into their minds. "I will be staying in Grisvel Town to monitor the situation and oversee negotiations. I suggest you ensure that your men behave accordingly."

With that, Empress Elisa turned on her heels, leaving the tent with the royal army commander, Appolo, and Vergil following closely behind. The moment they stepped out, the air inside the tent felt suffocating, thick with an unspoken fear that lingered long after they had gone.

As soon as they stepped out of the Francia Magna Kingdom's command tent, Vergil let out a sharp whistle—a signal for the Assassin Brotherhood to retreat.

Hidden within the shadows of the forest and the rocky terrain surrounding the enemy camp, Aeka and Freya immediately recognized the sound. Without hesitation, they relayed the signal to the other assassins, using silent hand gestures. Within moments, the entire Assassin Brotherhood began their swift and calculated retreat, disappearing into the darkness as if they had never been there.

Vergil watched as the last of them faded into the night before turning his attention back to Empress Elisa and Appolo. Without another word, they mounted their horses and rode back to Grisvel Town.

Upon their return to Grisvel Town, Empress Elisa wasted no time in preparing the Command Center, gathering her commanders and officers for a strategic assembly. Inside the town's fortified halls, maps were spread across long wooden tables, candles flickering over parchments marked with troop movements and battle formations. The air was tense but focused—this was the heart of the Empire's war planning.

Vergil and Appolo stepped forward, assisting in organizing intelligence reports. With precise efficiency, they laid out photographic records and detailed explanations of every enemy encampment—highlighting their locations, estimated troop strengths, and identifying each camp's commander.

Empress Elisa listened intently, nodding as she absorbed the information. After a moment, she straightened her posture and turned to the gathered officers and commanders.

"From this moment forward, the Assassin Brotherhood is officially recognized as the shadow force of the Britalienne Empire."

A murmur spread through the room, but no one dared question her decision. The presence of the assassins had always been whispered about, but now, their existence was confirmed by the Empress herself.

Elisa's gaze sharpened as she continued, "However, the identity of their leader must remain classified. No one is to reveal the true identity of Lord Vergil Ragnaros."

A moment of silence followed, then every officer and commander in the room straightened their backs and responded in unison, their voices strong and unwavering.

"We shall obey your orders, Your Majesty!"

Vergil remained silent, his gaze scanning the room. He could see the unspoken questions in their eyes—some in awe, others in unease. But none dared to challenge the Empress's decree.

Vergil gathered all members of the Assassin Brotherhood in the briefing room without delay. Aeka stood beside Freya, while his four adopted daughters and the rest of the assassins took their positions around the room. The air was tense with anticipation as Vergil addressed them, his piercing blue eyes scanning each individual with unwavering authority.

"As of today," Vergil began, his voice calm yet firm, "we are officially integrated into the royal forces as the Shadow Force."

A murmur ran through the assassins—some nodding in understanding, others exchanging glances.

"Empress Elisa will soon begin negotiations with the Elven nation of Grisvell," he continued, "and while she handles diplomacy, our role is to ensure the security of the borders. That means active patrols, intelligence gathering, and, if necessary, eliminating threats before they escalate."

Aeka, always precise and to the point, raised a hand. "What exactly will the assassins be doing? Stealth operations? Sabotage?"

Vergil nodded slightly. "Those trained in long-range magic will provide support from a distance. You've all been practicing the techniques I've taught you—this will be the perfect time to put them into action."

Freya, her wolf-like ears twitching slightly, stepped forward. "And what about relaying information? We'll need a way to report back quickly."

Vergil fell silent for a moment, considering the challenge. The Brotherhood needed a reliable communication method, but magical messages had their limits, and standard messengers were too slow for urgent matters.

Aeka furrowed her brows in thought before speaking. "If we use that device... recharging the battery will be difficult."

Freya turned to her, curious. "What device?"

Aeka crossed her arms. "A direct communication tool that operates using an invisible magical wavelength. The problem is that it requires an advanced energy storage system to function properly."

Vergil nodded in agreement. "That technology isn't viable for extended missions. Without a proper power source, it'll be useless in prolonged engagements."

Then, as if struck by a realization, Aeka's eyes widened. "Wait… I nearly forgot. I have a Replicator Device from Magnacarta VII."

Lira, one of Vergil's adopted daughters, tilted her head. "Replicator? What's that?"

Aeka smirked. "It's a highly advanced tool capable of replicating any equipment based on specific needs—whether it's weapons, tools, or even…" she paused, considering the possibilities. "…portable power sources."

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed the implications of Aeka's words. If the Replicator worked as intended, it could solve their logistical problems, giving the Shadow Force an unprecedented advantage in their operations.