Puppet

I placed my mask over my face, pulling up the sleeves of my jacket.

Strapping the sword to my side, I grabbed my boots and slipped them on, making sure to check that I had my watch.

The watch measured time by the twenty-fourth hour instead of Western time—a relic I couldn't afford to leave behind.

I sighed, noting that it was dawn as I stepped out of the house.

I was leaving to enter the city, and with that came the need for thorough preparation.

Walking through the city, I took in the towering buildings lining the streets.

As I reached the central plaza, I was met with the sight of countless people moving about, their early morning activities already in full swing.

I let out another sigh, continuing my path toward the north region. This city was a web of different people some innocent, others dangerous, ready to stir chaos.

After delving into my future in that strange world of mine, I had come to realize that even with the knowledge of it, nothing was certain.

The moment I read a vision, it felt as though it was either destined to unfold or would be erased from existence altogether.

I desperately wished I could figure out what was preventing me from seeing past a week. Here, in this moment, those uncertainties weighed heavily on me.

I shook the thought from my mind as I reached a wide trail leading toward the king's mansion.

I cloaked myself in an illusion spell, rendering me completely invisible.

However, the spell was fragile any physical contact would shatter it.

Likewise, touching anyone or being touched would break the illusion, but for now, it masked my mana, soul, and body, keeping me hidden from prying eyes.

I walked down the path, the low-hanging fog enveloping my every step.

As I moved forward, the mansion slowly revealed itself through the mist a grand, imposing structure.

With towering spires, marble columns, and intricate stonework that seemed to blend seamlessly with the surrounding landscape.

The soft glow of lanterns flickered along the pathways, their light barely piercing through the dense fog, casting eerie shadows across the mansion's façade. 

Two knights were stationed at the entrance, clad in sleek, all-black armor with long spears resting at their sides.

The gate hung open slightly as they stood, their expressions weary and disinterested.

Carefully and silently, I moved past them, every step calculated to avoid making even the slightest sound.

Just as I reached the gate, the knight on the left shifted, his gaze locking onto me.

"Hey, Malvin," the left knight called out, his voice casual. "Do you ever feel like quitting and becoming a bird?"

The knight on the right let out a heavy sigh. "No, Jake, I don't. Because when you do, you end up dead."

I tried my hardest not to correct him and say you end up tortured, in the flashback to the destruction of the kingdom.

Reid had done so while climbing over the wall with a cloaking spell with the help of a potion.

I continued walking, focusing on the path ahead, not daring to look back.

After passing by a few more guards stationed at various points along the sprawling estate, I finally reached the grand mansion.

Cloaked in an illusion spell, I remained invisible as I moved through the lavish hallways.

The air was thick with an oppressive sense of antiquity, the walls lined with portraits of past rulers, each one more solemn and foreboding than the last.

Candles flickered in sconces, their dim light casting long, shifting shadows across the ornate furnishings.

Eventually, I arrived at a room bathed in an almost holy silence a vast library.

The mansion's library, filled with towering shelves packed with ancient tomes and dusty scrolls.

The scent of old parchment and aged wood permeated the air, mingling with the faint scent of wax and ink.

Along the left wall, I found a loose brick.

Gently, I pushed it inward, and the wall shifted with a hollow sound, revealing a narrow passage.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of my mouth beneath the mask as I stepped into the hidden, spiraling staircase concealed behind the wall.

The steps wound downward, twisting deeper into the mansion's hidden depths.

This was where Reid had accidentally discovered this sanctuary in the novel a secret haven away from prying eyes, buried beneath the surface.

As I descended, the journey felt endless. Each step grew colder, the air becoming heavy with isolation.

Time seemed to stand still as the darkness deepened, but eventually, I reached the bottom.

What lay beyond the door was unlike anything above.

A wide, long pathway stretched out, spacious enough to fit an entire building within its bounds.

The walls were lined with flickering lanterns, their dim light casting restless shadows across the packed dirt floor.

At the far end stood a massive iron door, its surface marred with deep scratches and ancient symbols etched into the metal.

Standing guard before the door was no ordinary knight it was Dankiel. The Executioner.

His short black hair was streaked with gray, framing a gaunt, hardened face.

A thin but sharp beard accentuated his jaw, and beneath his fully iron-clad armor, his presence was an imposing wall of sheer menace.

If I faced him head-on, I knew I could win. But who cares about fair fights?

Dankiel unlocked the iron door with a large silver key, the metallic click reverberating through the still air.

As he stepped inside, the heavy door groaned shut behind him.

I moved swiftly, sliding a thin card under the door at the last moment.

With a quiet exchange of positions, I swapped places not with Dankiel, but with the card itself.

He must have noticed the card because his sharp gaze locked onto it.

Beneath my spell, I smiled, watching as recognition dawned on his face. Before he could react, I struck, grabbing his neck with a swift motion.

Dankiel struggled, gasping for air as I hurled him backward.

His iron-clad body skidded across the dirt floor, the sound of metal grinding against the ground filling the room.

Multiple guards who had been stationed along the walls drew their weapons, forming a defensive ring around me.

"Who are you?" one demanded, his spear leveled at my chest.

I tilted my head and smiled beneath the mask. "I'm merely a Puppet."

Extending my hands, I revealed four cards the ace, the king, the queen, and the jack.

With a flick of my wrists, I scattered them across the room, their edges gleaming in the flickering lantern light.

It was a fitting place for theatrics.

After all, this was a dungeon. Wide and spacious, yet suffocating in its grim ambiance.

Hands gripped onto rusted cell bars as prisoners within the shadows watched the cards land near their confines.

Dankiel's voice cut through the tension as he struggled to his feet, his sword drawn. "Kill him, now!"

I held up a hand before anyone moved, addressing them with a tone that teetered on mockery. "Before you all rush to your deaths, let me ask would you like to see a magic trick?"

With that, I clenched my fist. In one swift motion, every guard standing around me, save Dankiel, fell to the ground.

Each had been struck down by a card that seemed to materialize at their throats or chests.

Feigning a grimace, I held my gut and chuckled softly. My laughter grew louder, more unrestrained. "Oh my, I'm such a fool! How could I forget?"

Wiping imaginary tears from my mask, I straightened my posture and unsheathed my sword. "Well now, Dankiel, will you fight?"

Dankiel spat blood onto the floor, a card lodged deep into his armor near his chest.

With a grunt of pain, he ripped it free, tossing it to the ground, and pointed his blade at me.

"Damn mutt, I'll make sure your head rolls before this night ends."

I stared at him for a moment, my laughter bubbling up again, spilling into the quiet room. "This is fun," I said between chuckles. "Acting like a fool it's so intoxicating."

I straightened, silencing my laughter with a sudden pause.

My voice lowered as I spoke, dripping with amusement. "You must think I'm some clown... No, Dankiel, I'm nothing of the sort. In fact, I'm more of a Visionary."

Dankiel scoffed, his knuckles tightening on the hilt of his sword as he charged forward.

He wasn't just an ordinary knight. Dankiel followed the Knight pathway, like most of his kind, but his mastery of the Order of the Dark Knight gave him an edge that set him apart.

Before he could close the distance, I raised my sword and bolted to the left, my blade grazing his armor with precision.

A thin crack appeared along its base, a testament to the pressure I applied.

Dankiel swung his sword in retaliation, but I ducked under the arc of his blade.

It scraped against the metal bars of the cell behind me, the sound shrill and grating.

The people in these cells had been mutilated tongues removed, and limbs severed. The prisoner directly behind me, though, was different.

A small boy, frail and wide-eyed, stared at me through the bars.

I caught a glimpse of him just as Dankiel's blade shattered the cell door.

The boy seized the opportunity, darting out of the cell and running past me.

The hallway stretched endlessly beyond the dim light of the lanterns, and though his escape seemed futile, a part of me hoped he'd make it farther than anyone expected.

I turned my focus back to Dankiel, shoving him with enough force to send him stumbling back.

I raised my blade to press the advantage, but before I could follow through, a massive shadowy hand materialized out of nowhere.

It gripped me tightly and slammed me into the dirt floor with crushing force.

Dankiel loomed over me, his sword raised high, aiming for my neck.

In a flash, I swapped places with one of my cards, narrowly escaping his strike. The blade struck the ground with a resounding crash.

Before he could recover, I pulled another card from my deck, infusing it with my mana, and hurled it at his back.

The card zipped through the air with lethal intent, cleaving through his armor and piercing him entirely.

Dankiel staggered, coughing audibly as blood splattered from his mouth.

He turned toward me, his eyes burning with fury, and extended his hand.

A beam of pure darkness erupted from his palm, surging toward me with destructive force.

The beam of darkness roared toward me, a volatile force that devoured the dim light of the lanterns as it surged through the room.

I narrowly sidestepped it, the searing energy brushing past and scorching the wall behind me.

"You think this is enough to stop me?" I taunted, flicking another card between my fingers.

Dankiel's breathing grew heavier, his stance faltering slightly as he steadied himself.

Blood dripped from the wound in his back, staining the floor beneath him.

Yet, his presence remained oppressive, his dark aura swelling with renewed ferocity.

He lunged again, his sword swinging in a wide arc.

I raised my blade to parry, the clash of metal reverberating through the corridor.

Sparks flew as I twisted my wrist, deflecting his strike to the side before stepping in close.

With a fluid motion, I slashed at his torso.

My blade found its mark, widening the crack I had made earlier in his armor.

Dankiel growled, retaliating with a knee aimed at my stomach.

I barely managed to twist away, the force grazing me and throwing off my balance.

Dankiel took advantage of the moment, swinging his blade with ruthless precision.

But before the strike could connect, I clicked my teeth—a subtle, deliberate sound that resonated through the air like a command.

In an instant, Dankiel collapsed to the ground.

His sword clattered beside him, his body trembling as his senses betrayed him.

Sight, taste, touch, smell even his sense of balance was stripped away.

He couldn't feel anything, not even the weight of his own body or the racing of his heart.

I crouched down beside him, leaning close to his ear, my voice dripping with mockery.

"Take heed of this, Dankiel. I am a fool one who left you alive purely to deliver a message for Baltier."

Gripping his hair tightly, I forced his head up and returned his sense of sight. His terrified eyes locked onto mine, reflecting the cold, unyielding truth of his defeat.

"I am a Puppet, an Illusionist, and a Visionary," I said, my tone steady and sharp. "I am the one who will kill the king."

Without waiting for a response, I slammed his face into the dirt. The force left him motionless, blood pooling beneath him as I stood and stepped over his limp body.

Straightening my posture, I stared down the long path that stretched before me, the flickering lanterns casting faint light on the way ahead.

"I'm coming to save you, Daniel."