The midnight bells of Arthenburg tolled from the Central Wing of the castle where the throne room stood—the highest place in the entire palace and the capital city—vibrating through the stone walls of the castle. The sound was a notification to sleep and a reminder that silence was imminent, replacing the bustling noises of the day. The only ones left on the streets were the guard patrols and unnoticed illegal activities. Yet inside the palace, something was unfolding unlike any other day.
The space behind the walls felt like a different world. It was a narrow stone passage, smelling of damp earth, rat droppings, and foul, stagnant air.
Alexius's breath caught in his throat. The path sloped sharply downward, leading into the stone beneath the castle. His legs burned. The [Weak] status wasn't just text on a screen; it was the lactic acid burning through his muscles after barely ten minutes of walking. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep pace with the surprisingly active seventy-year-old butler—unlike his age.
Damn this body, Alexius thought, wiping sweat from his brow.
I've got the mind of a Grand Mage and the stamina of a dying man…
"Underground chamber," Elias whispered, his voice echoing slightly.
"The Nightwatch headquarters — or what remains of it — is just ahead. Your mother… she used to come here often."
"To give orders?"
"To hide," Elias corrected softly.
"From the court. From the lies. She said the darkness was the only place that was honest."
They reached a dead end—a solid wall of damp brick. Elias touched a certain spot on the mortar.
Click.
A hidden mechanism shifted, and the wall swung inward with a loud, rusty screech like something dying.
Alexius stepped through, his hand drifting instinctively toward the iron dagger.
The room beyond—the Crypterium—was large and circular, supported by thick pillars of black stone. It felt like standing inside a giant ribcage. The air was freezing. In the center, a small, weak fire crackled in a stone hearth, sending long, flickering shadows across the walls.
And in the center, sitting on a crate and sharpening a blade, was a man.
His hair was a tangled mess of grey and black, and his face was covered in old scars. He wore rags that were once a uniform, and an open bottle of cheap liquor sat beside him.
[Inspect]
[Name: Vane, Commander of Nightwatch]
[Class: Assassin / Shadow Walker]
[Level: 41]
[HP: 1,200 / 3,500 (Debuff: Malnourished)]
[MP: 400 / 400]
[Affiliation: Nightwatch]
[Loyalty: 5% (Volatile)]
[Key Traits:]
– Ronin's Resentment: Deep-seated hatred for nobility. Automatic -50 Disposition toward anyone with "Royal", "Duke," or "Noble" titles. Views the Prince as the embodiment of the neglect that destroyed his Order.
– Resource Starvation: Penalties to stamina regeneration due to long-term poverty. Has been maintaining the Nightwatch safehouse using his own blood and scraps.
– Tether of Spite: The subject desires death to escape his failure but is spiritually unable to die while Baron Zhestokiy lives. This unresolved vengeance is the only thing keeping his heart beating.
[Current Thoughts: "Look at him. Silk clothes, soft hands. He stands there breathing the air my men died to protect, while I sharpen a rusty knife in the dark, counting coppers for bread. I should slit his throat and save the Empire the trouble."]
"Elias," the man grunted without looking up.
"You're late. And you brought a pet?"
"Watch your tongue, Vane," Elias warned, his posture shifting.
The kindly butler vanished; the professional assassin emerged.
"This is Prince Regent Alexius."
Vane stopped sharpening his knife. He slowly lifted his head, staring at Alexius with a terrifying emptiness.
"I know who he is," Vane spat.
"The Sleeping Lion. The boy who plays with whores while his mother's killers run the country. Did you come to see the grave, boy? Or did you get lost looking for the wine cellar?"
Alexius stepped forward into the firelight. The heat did nothing to warm the chill in the room.
"I'm not lost, Vane," Alexius said, keeping his voice steady despite his racing heart.
"And I'm done sleeping."
Vane laughed—a dry, hacking sound.
"Done sleeping? You think because you woke up, the world changed? The Nightwatch is dead, little prince. Buried with the Queen. I'm just the maggot guarding the corpse."
"The Nightwatch isn't dead," Alexius countered.
"It's starving. There's a difference."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a heavy leather sack. He tossed it through the air.
It landed on the crate next to Vane with a heavy, metallic thud that cracked the wood. The string loosened, revealing the shine of gold.
Vane glanced at it, unimpressed.
"Gold. Vetus has gold. Custodia has gold. You think you can buy loyalty with the same coin the traitors use?"
"I'm not buying loyalty," Alexius said.
"I'm buying revenge."
Vane stared at the gold, then back at Alexius. A flicker of something crossed his face— irritation. He stood up, moving smoothly and surprisingly fast for someone who seemed drunk.
"Revenge?" Vane sneered.
"You don't know the meaning of the word. You soft, palace-bred—"
Whoosh.
It happened in a heartbeat.
Vane's hand snapped forward. The knife he had been sharpening — a jagged, rusty piece of scrap metal — flew through the air.
It wasn't a warning shot. It was aimed directly at Alexius's left eye.
Elias shouted, lunging forward, but he was too far away.
Everything froze for a moment.
In Alexius's mind, the world nearly stopped. A fly near the fire hung frozen in mid-air. The spinning knife slowed to a lazy blur as it drifted toward his face.
[System Alert: Hostile Action Detected.]
[Skill Activation: Imperial Swordsmanship (Level 3)]
[Reaction Speed: Adjusted.]
[Autopilot: ENGAGED.]
His right hand shot up.
Thwack.
Time snapped back to normal.
Alexius stood frozen, his arm stretched out. Smoke curled from his leather glove where the friction had burned it. The rusty blade was pinched between his thumb and forefinger, its tip hovering less than an inch from his eye.
A sharp, burning pain shot up his wrist. His tendons screamed in protest. His bones weren't used to this kind of sudden strain. [-15 HP]
He didn't flinch or blink; he simply stared at Vane through the gap in his fingers.
Silence descended on the room.
Vane's jaw dropped as his sneer vanished, replaced by genuine, unfiltered shock.
"You… you caught it."
"I did," Alexius said. His voice was calm, but inside, he was screaming.
My hand! It feels like I grabbed a burning iron! you son of a bi*ch! Its hurt!
With a flick of his wrist, Alexius sent the dagger spinning back. It buried itself in the wooden pillar beside Vane's head with a vibrating thrum.
"Next time," Alexius said, hiding his trembling hand behind his back, "aim for the heart. I might not catch that one."
Vane looked at the knife in the wood, then back at the Prince. He looked at Elias, who was pale as a sheet. Then, slowly, a low chuckle bubbled up from Vane's chest. It grew into a laugh—a wild, manic sound.
"He caught it," Vane said, shaking his head. "The little shit actually caught it."
He looked at Alexius with curiosity.
"You're not what they say you are," Vane muttered. He picked up the sack of gold, weighing it in his hand.
"Alright. You have my attention. What do you want, 'Your Highness'?"
"I want eyes," Alexius said, the pain in his hand sharpening his focus. "I want to know everything and anything—from when Duke Vetus takes a piss to who sleeps in Duke Custodia's bed. And be ready to strike at any time. I want the network rebuilt. Tonight."
"It will take time," Vane said, pouring the gold onto the table.
"The rats have scattered for a long time."
"Then call them back," Alexius commanded.
He reached for his belt and unclipped the heavy, unpolished weapon he had received from Countess Lupus earlier that day. He slammed it onto the table beside the gold. The wood groaned under the weight.
"And take this."
Vane looked at the weapon. It was the iron dagger from the North. To most people, it looked like scrap. But Vane was an assassin. He picked it up, checked its balance, and ran a rough thumb along the dull grey metal. His eyes widened.
"Cold Iron," Vane said, surprised.
"Forged by a Senior Blacksmith. You don't see work like this in the markets. This is a Rank C weapon. A common soldier works a lifetime and never holds steel this good."
"It was a gift from the Custodia family," Alexius said.
"A threat, really. But I'm giving it to you, as a promise."
Vane looked up, his eyes narrowing. "A promise of what?"
Alexius leaned forward, the firelight casting deep shadows over his face.
"Baron Zhestokiy de Volkov," Alexius whispered the name.
Vane froze. The dagger in his hand stopped moving. His eyes filled with hatred.
"Don't," Vane hissed, his whole body shaking with anger. "Don't say that name unless you want me to carve it into your skin."
"He is currently a border General in the Kalian Empire," Alexius continued. "Twenty years ago, he led the border raid on the village of Terminius. He burned the houses. He enslaved the survivors. And he butchered your wife and daughter while you were forced to watch."
Vane slammed the dagger into the table, sinking it an inch deep into the hard wood. He stood up, breathing heavily.
"I have hunted him for two decades," Vane snarled.
"He is protected by an army and a Swordmaster. He never leaves his fortress."
"He is coming here," Alexius predicted.
"Zhestokiy is a slaver and a warmonger. He's a friend of Duke Vetus. I intend to destroy House Vetus and its corruption, I'll be making my move soon — Vetus will definitely respond. When he does, Zhestokiy will be the one leading the vanguard to 'secure' the capital. He's coming to Leo."
Alexius stood up, meeting the assassin's furious gaze.
"When Zhestokiy arrives… I give him to you. That is my price. Your loyalty, for his head."
Vane stared at the Prince. He looked at the gold—and then at the Rank C dagger, a weapon worthy of killing a General. Finally, he looked at the resolve in Alexius's eyes.
Slowly, Vane pulled the dagger from the table and slid it back into the sheath at his hip.
He walked toward the Prince and suddenly knelt, bowing as he offered his blade—the highest form of loyalty one can give in this world.
"Your will is my command, Your Highness."
[Name: Vane, Commander of Nightwatch]
[Class: Assassin / Shadow Walker] [Level: 41]
[HP: 1,200 / 3,500]
[MP: 400 / 400]
[Affiliation: Prince Regent Alexius Demetrios Leo's Renewed Nightwatch]
[Loyalty: 95% (Bound by Blood Oath)]
[Key Traits:]
– The Prince's Shadow: The subject has acknowledged Alexius as a worthy master. Hatred for general nobility remains, but is now weaponized against the Prince's enemies. Grants +20% efficiency when executing covert orders from the Crown.
– Wolf's Hunger: The influx of resources (gold) and purpose has triggered a rapid mental recovery. Stamina regeneration is doubled when training subordinates or hunting targets.
– Vow of the Northern Fang: The promise of Baron Zhestokiy's head has solidified his will to live. Critical Hit Rate increases by 50% against targets affiliated with the Kalian Empire.
[Current Thoughts: "He bought my soul with a rusty dagger and a name. Fine. The boy isn't soft... he's dangerous. If he truly delivers the General to me, I will burn the world for him. Let's see if he has claws."]
(Continue....)