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, finally 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 in his mission to assassinate Master Noah."
The words hit me like a hammer to the chest.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
But the guard wasn't done. "Not only that," he added, his voice trembling.
"His life crystal has… stopped shining."
My stomach twisted, and a cold knot of dread formed deep within me.
Sovak was dead.
One of my best assassins—gone. And the target?
Alive..?
I forced myself to remain still, though my mind raced.
Sovak had never failed before. For him to not only fail but to lose his life… It meant one thing.
All the rumours, the things everyone said were false.
Noah wasn't just some exiled brat.
No.
He was something more.
He was a monster in hiding.
That had to be the reason Sovak died—
Slowly, I rose from my chair, my movements deliberate.
I turned to the dealers, fixing them with a look that brooked no argument.
"Gentlemen, our discussion will have to wait. I trust you can see yourselves out."
The dealers exchanged uneasy glances but didn't dare protest.
They rose and left the room in silence, their cloaks trailing behind them.
As soon as the last of them disappeared, I shot to my feet, my expression dark and stormy.
Motioning for the guard to follow me, I strode out of the conference room and into the winding corridors of the Assassination House.
"Post another quest," I ordered, my voice low and dangerous.
"Double the reward.
No, triple it.
Noah must die, and he must die quietly.
I don't care how many men it takes. This cannot be traced back to us.
Do you understand?"
"Y-Yes, Master," the guard stammered, bowing deeply to me as he scurried away to carry out my order.
I knew that the reason he was so terrified wasn't me.
No.
It was the fact that we were indirectly biting from the same hands that fed us.
As I continued down the dimly lit passage, my mind reeled in a storm of thoughts.
The pale green flames lining the walls flickered as I passed, casting erratic shadows that seemed to dance to the rhythm of my mood.
My fists clenched at my sides as I replayed the events in my mind.
Sovak was dead.
Noah had survived.
The implications of this failure were too much.
Sovak's failure meant only one thing: Noah was no ordinary target.
The boy had survived an attack from one of the Assassination House's best operatives—and killed him.
It was a feat that few could claim, let alone someone so young.
I began to pace again, my boots clicking against the marble floor.
No.
I couldn't let this failure spiral out of control. Noah had to be eliminated before he could retaliate, before word of the assassination attempt reached the Patriarch.
This can't go wrong, I thought grimly.
It won't go wrong.
The memory of a Romero clan member played out in my mind.
The man had come to the Assassination House in person, an act that spoke volumes about the importance of the contract.
He had offered a sum so vast it could buy entire kingdoms, and his words had been as sharp and uncompromising as a blade.
"The boy must die," He had said. "And it must be done quietly."
I had accepted the contract, despite the risks.
Noah wasn't just any target—he was an heir to the Romero Duchy, even if he was exiled. And everyone knew that the Patriarch of the Romero clan doted on Noah.
If the patriarch discovered that an attempt had been made on his grandson's life… my whole being shuddered.
The Assassination House would cease to exist.
Every assassin, every guard, every servant would be hunted down and exterminated.
Staring at the huge hall in front of me with hundreds of our members looking at the quest board for missions, I realised one thing.
"Noah must die,"
"There is no other way."
But even as I spoke those words, a shadow of doubt lingered in the back of my mind.
Was this the beginning of the end?
Was the Assassination House, my whole life's work, doomed to fall?
I shook my head, instantly removing the thought from my brain.
I couldn't afford to dwell on fear or doubt. Failure was not an option.
The green flames of the hallway flickered around me, their light casting long, distorted shadows on the walls.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead.
The Assassination House had survived countless challenges, countless enemies.
It would survive this, too.
Right?
***
A/N:
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