A Ring?

The force of the explosion threw me back as the world around me seemed to implode.

My instincts screamed, and without thinking, I willed the pale, glowing liquid of my ability to expand outward, forming a translucent shield in front of me.

It wasn't perfect, but it absorbed the brunt of the blast.

Even then, the impact was enough to send me crashing into the remnants of the dining table, my head spinning from the force.

My ears were ringing, a sharp, continuous sound that made my teeth ache.

Everything else felt distant, muffled, like I was submerged underwater.

My vision blurred as I tried to make sense of my surroundings, my chest heaving with laboured breaths.

The air smelled sharp—ash and something acrid, something I couldn't place.

When the ringing in my ears finally dulled, it was replaced by the unsettling crackle of fire and the faint creak of the house straining to stay upright.

The noise-cancelling mana film surrounding our house was gone.

Panic rose in my chest as I struggled to my feet, only for my stomach to turn at the scene before me.

The house… was in ruins. The once-cozy interior had been blown apart, leaving broken furniture and glass scattered across the floor.

The walls were barely standing, jagged and covered in burn marks.

Blood splashed the surfaces in violent arcs, painting the room in gory patterns.

I stumbled forward, gagging as the stench of burnt flesh filled my nostrils.

It was too much.

I staggered, holding my stomach tight.

"Bleeergh!"

The sound of me throwing up filled the air as I once again collapsed to his knees, all the tasty buns I had eaten splattering in front of me.

Ewww-

My throat burned as I coughed out loud, the taste of bile hugging my tongue.

I wiped my mouth with the back of the hand, forcing myself to look up, but the scene hadn't changed.

If anything, it had grown worse in my mind. I couldn't unsee the gore, the dismembered limbs scattered among the debris. My breathing quickened as fear clawed its way up my spine. 

"No... no, no, no!" I muttered, stumbling as I tried to steady myself. My voice rose into a shout. "Grandma! Where are you?! Grandma!!"

The fear in my voice didn't just echo in the ruined space—it consumed it.

My steps were shaky as I moved towards the staircase, careful to avoid the mangled remains of the assassin's body lying in the centre of the chaos.

His face—or what was left of it—was barely recognizable, twisted and melted by the explosion.

His limbs bent at unnatural angles, bones protruding from torn flesh. I gagged again, choking back another wave of nausea as I turned my head away. 

It was over for him. He was dead. But that didn't matter. None of it mattered if I couldn't find her.

"Grandma!!" I screamed again, louder this time, my voice cracking under the weight of my desperation. I staggered toward the stairs, the flight barely intact. 

The wooden steps were charred and cracked, threatening to collapse under even the slightest pressure.

My hands trembled as I gripped the railing, using it to pull myself up.

Each step creaked, but I didn't care. 

I couldn't stop.

Not now.

When I reached the top, my heart dropped.

Just outside my bedroom door, slumped against the wall, was her. 

"Grandma!" I choked out, rushing forward. 

Her weak figure was barely recognizable beneath the blood that soaked her clothes.

Her face was pale, her breathing shallow. 

For a moment, I froze, my mind unable to process the scene in front of me. 

Then, the panic kicked in, flooding my veins like magma. 

I fell to my knees beside her, my hands hovering helplessly over her body. 

"Grandma... no, no, no, stay with me," I begged, my voice shaking. 

Her eyelids fluttered, and she let out a faint, raspy breath. 

"I'm... fine, Noah," she whispered, though the blood on her lips betrayed her words. 

"You... you did good, my boy." 

Her words broke something inside me. 

I clenched my hands, fighting the urge to cry my balls out. 

"Don't say that! You're not fine! Stop talking like this!" 

Her lips twitched, a weak attempt at a smile. "Listen... listen to me," she said, her voice barely audible. 

Her trembling hand reached for mine, and I grabbed it, holding on as if letting go would mean losing her forever.

Her next words were so soft I almost didn't hear them. "Wear my ring."

I blinked, her words momentarily pulling me out of my spiral.

Her ring?

My eyes dropped to her hand, where a simple silver band rested on her finger.

Slowly, I understood.

My eyes widened as realization dawned on me.

It wasn't just any ring—it was a space ring. 

"Grandma, this..." My voice trailed off as I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling as I removed the ring.

My hands were still glowing faintly, the residue of mana coursing through me. I held the ring tightly, channelling my energy into it.

The space within the ring opened up, revealing its contents.

My breath stopped for a second as I found several bottles of green tonic inside the ring.

My hands moved on their own, pulling them out with a flick of mana. 

Without wasting a second, I uncorked one of the bottles and brought it to her lips. 

"Drink this," I urged, tilting the bottle gently. "It'll help, I promise." 

She coughed weakly as the liquid passed her lips, but when she swallowed it, her body shook as the tonic took effect.

The change was almost immediate. The ashen colour of her skin began to fade, replaced by a faint flush of peach. 

Her breathing steadied, each breath coming easier than the last.

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave.

If the blood hadn't been there, covering almost the whole of her figure, I would have thought of her as half dead.

I slumped against the wall beside her, my body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been eating at me.

She shifted slightly, using the wall to prop herself up. Her eyes met mine, and for the first time since the explosion, a genuine smile graced her lips. 

"Thank God you're okay... Noah," she said softly, her voice steady but filled with emotion.

Her words hit me hard.

My chest tightened as I looked away, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling.

"I thought I lost you," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

Her hand reached out, resting gently on my cheek.

"You didn't," she said firmly. "And I never doubted you'd protect me." 

"After all... you have your father's eyes."

***

-----------------------------------

In the Kingdom of Blackblade.

The Assassination House.

The dark hallways of the Assassination House whispered with an unnatural silence, broken only by the faint dripping of water from unseen cracks in the ceiling.

The smell of damp stone mingled with the metallic tang of blood, a constant reminder of the profession that thrived here.

The walls, lit dimly by lanterns with flickering green flames, seemed to shift and breathe, casting long, distorted shadows on the floor.

It was as if the entire building was alive, feeding on the malice and dread of those who entered.

I liked it this way.

This place wasn't meant to be inviting.

It wasn't meant to be comfortable.

This was a house of death, a monument to the empire I'd built on blood and shadows.

At the center of this grim labyrinth was the conference room.

A circular chamber carved out of black marble, its polished surface shining faintly under the dim lighting.

The room always felt cold, oppressive, and suffocating.

I sat at the head of a long, ebony table.

The head of the Assassination House had to show a quiet menace, his presence alone should be enough to drain the courage from any man.

My sharp, angular features were illuminated by the eerie green light, casting dark shadows across my pale face.

Drumming my fingers against the armrest of my high-backed chair, I glanced at the 6 people sitting in front of me.

Unfortunately, the scar running down my left cheek seemed to twitch with every word they spoke.

The six dealers whispered among themselves, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods.

The room was cold, the only light coming from the green flames flickering in the sconces along the walls.

It cast an eerie glow, distorting the faces of those gathered.

Fear bred obedience, and obedience kept me in power.

"We've brought an offer," one of them finally said, breaking the silence.

His voice was rough, and he kept his hands clasped tightly in front of him. "A target that requires your House's expertise."

"Do you?" I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the black marble table.

My fingers steepled, and I watched the man through narrowed eyes. "And who might this target be?"

"The King of the Jade Kingdom," another dealer said, his voice steadier than the first. "Philip Daffneer."

For a moment, the room seemed to grow colder.

I allowed the silence to stretch, watching their nervous shifting, their barely concealed unease.

I'd seen braver men break under less scrutiny.

"You're either very bold," I said finally,

"…or very foolish."

Do you understand what you're asking of me?

To take the life of a man like Philip Daffneer is no small matter.

He isn't just a king—he's a warrior.

A tactician.

A man whose bloodline has survived countless attempts on its life.

And you think gold will be enough to convince me?"

"It isn't just gold," the second dealer replied, though I could hear the tremor in his voice now.

"It's strategy. Remove Philip, and the Jade Kingdom will fall into chaos. Without him, there's no one strong enough to hold it together."

I leaned back, a humorless smile curling at the corners of my lips. "Strategy," I repeated. "How convenient."

Before I could continue, the door to the conference room creaked open. My smile vanished, replaced by a glare as cold as the stone walls surrounding us.

"Who dares to interrupt?" My voice cut through the air like a blade, and the dealers flinched even though the outburst wasn't directed at them.

My eyes fixed on the figure standing in the doorway—a guard, his face pale and his body trembling.

"M-Master Grimwald," he stammered, bowing so deeply I thought his spine might snap.

"Forgive me, but this is urgent."

"It had better be," I growled, my patience thinning.

"Speak, or I'll make you regret wasting my time."

The guard hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Slowly, he stepped forward and leaned close to whisper in my ear.

"Sovak failed to assassinate Master Noah." 

***