The jagged edge of dawn barely pierced the dense canopy of the Crimson Thicket as Alex tightened the grip on his sword's hilt. Blood still oozed from the wound beneath his chest armor, but the mission was done. The grotesque creatures that had haunted the outskirts of the Red Palisade had finally been purged—at least for now. Yet rest was a luxury reserved for later. First, Alex had to seek Baron Jevran.
Sheathing his blade with quiet finality, he pushed off, limping but steady, sprinting toward the village with determination burning in his eyes.
Baron Jevran's House
The night swallowed Alex as he neared the Baron's manor. Scaling the stone wall with the practiced ease of a shadow, he landed silently atop the courtyard, his gaze sharp. Below, two deserters stood guard at the heavy door, their breath visible in the cold night air.
"Open the door," Alex commanded low and steady.
The guards exchanged wary glances but pushed the door wide without protest. Inside, the faint glow from the hearth illuminated Baron Jevran seated comfortably in his armchair, surrounded by fifteen deserters—battle-hardened faces lit by flickering flame.
Alex stepped forward, eyes hard. "Explain your plan. And Cidinei's."
The baron gave a bitter chuckle, his gaze lingering on a patch of darkness beside the fire. "Where to begin? It started two weeks past. Cidinei arrived at the King's behest—the Theocracy's custom. Each month, Saints and warriors journey into the Red Palisade, purging the forest's monsters. Cidinei would visit often, sharing a meal with me and my son."
Alex's voice softened, sensing hidden sorrow. "Where is your son now?"
Baron Jevran's eyes darkened. "He died a few days ago."
A solemn nod. "My condolences. Please continue."
The Baron's words flowed like a stream of regret and twisted ambition. "My son, once a simple soldier in Lumen's Theocracy, climbed the ranks to Captain. But he hungered for more—he dreamed of joining the Twelve Seats. Yet, no matter his efforts, the King looked right through him. To him, he was just a Captain guarding shadows."
Alex listened intently as Jevran revealed Cidinei's true nature: a man fueled by ambition, gathering a secret cabal within the Theocracy to overthrow the kingdom. The favor asked of the Baron was a simple yet dangerous plea—to assist if the coup failed.
A growl of doubt gripped Alex's throat. "It's strange you consented so calmly. What hides behind your loyalty, Baron? What do you gain?"
Jevran's voice cracked with honesty. "My son's dream died with him. Ambitious beyond measure, he thirsted for lands, for power. Cidinei promised my holdings would double—an empire worthy of that dream. I grasped at the chance to fulfill what my son could not. But it seems fate is cruel."
Alex's mind raced, weighing the Baron's worth on this twisted chessboard. He could not cast aside this piece lightly.
"Then," Alex said quietly, "your son's dream can still be fulfilled. Join me. I offer you three villages, carved from what remains of the Royal Empire."
The Baron's brow furrowed. "Those lands… ruled by the Empire herself."
"Soon to fall," Alex answered firmly. "Those villages will be leaderless once the Empire crumbles. This is your moment—to rise among nobility. Or return to the Theocracy as their prisoner."
The bargain was struck.
The meeting shifted focus.
"Tell me about your men," Alex demanded. "Which of these deserters is the strongest?"
"Noriyuki," Jevran answered with grave respect. "An exceptional swordsman. His blade strikes like lightning and possesses a skill unlike any other."
Alex's eyes sharpened. "Bring all your deserters here."
Jevran's voice rose, summoning his men. "Twenty-two in total."
Stepping before the council of outlaws, Alex's voice rang with unyielding authority. "From this day forth, I am your leader. Baron Jevran and I share a vision—a kingdom ruled by justice, where no one is above another."
His gaze locked on Noriyuki, who knelt before him, sword sheathed and spirit ready.
"You will command this band of deserters—for now. Teach them your art, your skills. Make them strong. Can you rise to the task?"
Noriyuki's nod was firm, eyes burning with quiet determination.
"As for the rest," Alex continued, turning to Jevran, "if space becomes scarce, move them to the old hideout deep within the Crimson Thicket. Five days from now—make it so."
The Baron nodded, though worry flickered across his face. "One problem remains. Chucro saw my face. He knows I'm involved."
Alex's lips curled into a thin smile. "Leave that to me."
Red Palisade Inn
The stale air of the inn was thick with smoke and whispered secrets. Alex moved like a wraith toward Chucro's door, pressing it open with a ghost's touch. Stealth cloaked him in invisibility as he glimpsed Haru, his familiar, slumped in the bed beside the still form of Chucro.
"Move away," Alex whispered telepathically to Haru, gently shifting his companion. Chucro stirred but remained unconscious.
Alex's heart tightened. Revenge demanded cold choices, and despite the weight on his soul, he stood firm in resolve.
His hands clasped tightly around Chucro's neck as mana surged through his veins. With a slow, fatal squeeze, the life drained from the traitor's body.
Voice echoed in his mind: Water element acquired.
A cold surge filled Alex's senses—power to summon water, to shape it, to wield it as weapon or shield.
The moment to flee had come.
Out in the street, chaos unfurled as the King rode through, flanked by Saints. Soldiers cried for passage.
Alex melted into the shadows, vaulting onto rooftops. But before he could vanish into the maze of eaves and chimneys, a soft voice stopped him.
"And where do you think you're going?"
She stood framed against the pale sky—long brown hair flowing beneath white robes and a white hat, her serene posture belying her power.
"I'm Holy," she announced with a calm, distant smile. "Seat 3 of the Twelve Thrones of the Luminarch Conclave."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "An ally, I hope. I am Alex, an assassin employed by the King."
"And yet you hide beneath stealth." Her gaze sharpened, perceptive and unrelenting.
A plan sparked in Alex's mind. "I am known as the Silent Assassin. Stealth is my creed."
Holy's expression softened. "Apologies for my doubt. The King wishes to see you. At once."
Alex hesitated. "Could it wait? I am wounded... exhausted."
"Very well," she consented. "But there is more. The bodies of your fallen lie in the Crimson Thicket. One assassin, Ralf, lives. A medical team waits in your room."
"I know of a healer in this city. I'll seek her aid."
With that, Alex vanished across the rooftops, the silent night welcoming his shadow.
Telepathy atop the rooftops
"Haru, can you hear me?"
"Yes, Master."
"Why didn't we communicate like this before?"
"You never asked."
"And what skills do you possess?"
"My nose is keen. I sense mana signatures in the air—tracking targets through their elemental aura."
"Even from afar?"
"Two kilometers is my limit."
Alex frowned, impressed. "A far more useful skill than I imagined."
Palisade Bar
Later, in the humble warmth of the Palisade Bar, Kaito waved Alex over.
"Alex! The guild's counting on you."
They exchanged grim news—the price of their battle etched deep. Chucro, strangled. Karui, lost.
Alex feigned ignorance, careful to bury his guilt beneath friendly smiles.
"You've been promoted to Rank A," Kaito added with genuine pride. "That beer is on me."
Alex only grinned weakly. "Soon."
Market Square Encounter
The bustling heart of the Red Palisade city thrummed with life as Alex and Haru moved through the crowd.
"Aha! Found you!" A familiar voice called out sharply.
Aiko emerged from the throng, sharp-eyed and determined.
"How did you find me?"
"Spotted the King with Kaito and the guild master near the assassin's street."
Alex's mind raced. "I need your help, Aiko. There's a forbidden place I must investigate."
With a gentle nudge toward Haru, he added, "And you'll need this little one too."
Aiko smiled softly, accepting the charge. Together, they stepped into the shadowed future ahead—ready to confront the dark secrets buried deep within the Crimson Thicket.