Failed Assassination

Aaran stirred awake. He reached out to grab the glass of water on the bedside table. After taking a few sips, he placed it back and laid down, ready to sleep again.

But a moment later, his eyes shot wide open.

It's quiet.

It was the dead of the night. It would be weird if things weren't quiet, at least in a normal household. But not in a castle.

It's too quiet.

Even on the quietest of nights, Aaran could hear the maids moving about in the night, or the snores of the guards stationed outside his room.

Tonight, however, there was nothing. No footsteps, no snores. Nothing.

As quietly as possible, he scanned every corner of his room. Someone had turned the bathroom doorknob all the way.

The maids would never do that. The door had to be open at all times because Aaran couldn't reach the handle otherwise.

Someone who shouldn't be there was there.

"The kid is quite intuitive."

"And I thought it would be a boring job."

Aaran calmly looked behind, and two men stepped out of the darkness. Their pitch-black clothes covered them from head to toe, only leaving their eyes uncovered.

One was wiping a bloodied dagger on his shoulder, while the other carelessly fiddled with Aaran's toys.

"Hm… maybe I should take some of these for the orphanage," the guy said.

"Don't be ridiculous," the other snapped. "Don't talk about taking the kid's stuff while he is alive. Kill him first."

The way the assassins casually conversed rattled Aaran. The intruders didn't look worried at all.

Maybe it was because they had already killed the nearby guards, maybe drugged everyone in the castle, or maybe they thought a toddler would be an easy target.

Either way, it was a dire situation for Aaran.

The assassins ignored Aaran and were busy cursing one another. If there was a time to get away, that was it.

Aaran bolted for the door. But before he could take more than a few steps, one man grabbed him by the nape, lifting him effortlessly off the ground before tossing him back onto the bed like a ragdoll.

The soft mattress cushioned the blow, but Aaran looked terrified.

"Where do you think you're going?" The guy said, leaning closer. "Be a good kid and don't move."

Panicked, Aaran looked around and hastily grabbed the only thing within reach—a pillow. He held it up, using it as a shield against the assassins with trembling hands.

The assassins stopped chatting and exchanged amused glances.

"A pillow? Really, kid?" the man with the bloodied dagger spoke.

Without a word, the other guy turned toward the teddy bear sitting near the bed. It was strangely big, but that wasn't the only strange thing.

The teddy wasn't there when they checked the room. The man thought someone was hiding inside and wanted to check.

He hurled the dagger towards the teddy. If someone was hiding inside, they would block the dagger or die. The man hoped for the former. It would add a flare to the job. Besides, it would be fun to torture someone in front of the kid.

The dagger struck the teddy bear with a dull thud, piercing through its plush body and embedding itself into the wall behind it. The assassin waited for a minute, but the teddy didn't move, nor was there any blood coming out of it.

The assassin clicked his tongue before turning away. Meanwhile, his partner used the instance as a lesson.

"See that?" he asked, pointing at the dagger. "Your pillow will not save you."

Aaran stared at the teddy bear, then back at the men. He let go of the pillow, his head hung low. The assassin smiled, thinking the kid had accepted his end.

But the next moment… Aaran began laughing.

It was a soft laugh at first, then it grew louder. It wasn't a kid's laugh. The voice was a kid's, but the demeanor wasn't.

The assassins stopped, confusion flashing across their faces.

"Is this kid serious?"

"I think he's lost it."

They had expected the kid to be afraid, pee in his pants even. But laughter wasn't what they expected from him.

However, they weren't afraid.

What could a kid do to them?

One assassin looked at the watch before nodding. It was time to end the farce.

As they stepped closer, Aaran's laughter grew louder. But then he stopped and glared at the assassins.

"Before you die, tell me something," Aaran dropped the smile, resting his chin on his hands. "How was my acting?"

"What—?"

Suddenly, the assassins felt a chill run down their spine. Before either could react, dark tendrils shot out from the shadows, wrapping around one of them.

He tried slicing the tendrils to free himself. But the dagger phased past the tendril as if it was a fabric of his imagination. With a twist, the dagger slipped out of his hand and the next moment, there was a sickening crack as the assassin fell to the ground.

The remaining assassin spun around, dagger drawn, only to freeze in horror. There was no one there… but the teddy bear. Dark tendrils emerged from its ripped-open belly, moving like tentacles.

"It's rude to aim weapons at the dead."

Dread's deep voice echoed in the room.

The assassin barely had time to scream before the tendrils lashed out, wrapping around his neck. He, too, met the same end as his partner.

As the lifeless body crumpled to the floor, the tendrils retracted, and Dread turned to face Aaran.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

Aaran waved his hand, lost in thought.

He didn't lose his mind and started laughing for no reason. The nannies should've noticed the odd noise and come rushing in. But no one came to check on him, even though he was so loud.

That's when Aaran asked Dread to deal with the assassins since no one was coming for help.

Either the assassins had killed everyone, or they had drugged them. Regardless, Aaran knew there had to be more of them. The two of them couldn't infiltrate the castle on their own.

Just then, there was a loud thud, and someone kicked open the door.

Aaran and Dread turned around, only to see Darius walking in with half a dozen corpses on his shoulders.

"I picked up some trash on my way back," he said, dumping the corpses. "Put them to good use, my liege."

Aaran and Dread stared at each other silently. For someone who hated Necromancers, Darius was oddly enthusiastic to gain more subordinates.