Steel flashed.
A blade sliced through the morning light, aimed straight for Seraphina's neck.
She moved on instinct, mana surging as she formed a circular barrier of light in front of her. The dagger struck the shield with a sharp crack. Light fractured. The blade punched through one weakened point—barely stopping before it could reach her throat.
The shield shattered.
The dagger dropped to the stone with a chilling tingg…
Seraphina froze for half a heartbeat, breath caught in her chest.
Then more daggers followed.
They came from different angles, spinning through the air, aimed to kill both of them.
Kael saw them.
He reacted instantly.
He lunged forward, catching one dagger out of the air with his bare hand mid-run, the force biting into his palm. At the same time, his sword flashed, steel ringing as he knocked the others aside—one deflected upward, another skidding across the ground.
He stepped past Seraphina in one smooth motion, placing himself directly in front of her.
"Calm down," he said sharply.
Kael shifted his stance, turning his body just enough to shield her completely, his back to her, sword held low and ready. The air around him grew heavy, mana pressing down like an unseen weight.
Seraphina stared at his back, heart pounding.
Her fingers trembled as light gathered weakly around her hand again.
"Kael…" she whispered.
"Stay still," he said, voice calm but cold. "And don't drop your guard."
From the shadows beyond the training ground, figures began to step forward—silent, deliberate, blades already drawn.
Kael swept his gaze over them, counting silently.
One… two… four… nine…
Twelve.
Twelve people had slipped into the duke's castle without alerting a single guard.
His grip on the sword tightened.
"Who sent you?" he asked, voice calm but carrying weight.
None of them answered.
Not a word. Not a sound.
They stood there in silence, weapons ready, faces hidden behind masks. They were professionals.
Kael exhaled slowly through his nose.
"So that's how it is," he murmured.
The air around him shifted.
Seraphina felt it immediately.
The temperature dropped, a heavy pressure bearing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. The air itself seemed to bend. Something began to form in Kael's left hand—small at first, barely visible—but it pulled at everything around it. Dust lifted from the ground. Loose stones trembled. Even the light around her shield distorted as if being dragged inward.
Black Sun…
So that's how it is, she thought.
The assassins shifted. Feet adjusted. Grips tightened. One of them took a half step back before stopping himself.
"Then I'll ask again," he said.
His voice carried some anger now.
His eyes moved from one assassin to the next.
"But this time," Kael continued, the Black Sun swelling, "I won't wait for an answer."
The assassins attacked.
All at once.
Kael didn't wait.
He hurled the Black Sun toward the nearest assassin.
The man reacted instantly, twisting his body to dodge—but it was already too late. The Black Sun suddenly collapsed inward before it even reached him.
Then it detonated.
A silent implosion, followed by a violent burst of dark force.
The assassin's head vanished in an instant, his body dropping lifelessly to the ground as blood sprayed across the stone.
Seraphina saw it.
Her mind couldn't process what her eyes had witnessed. The pressure, the darkness, the sheer brutality of it—
Her vision blurred.
The world tilted.
She collapsed, consciousness slipping away.
The other assassins weren't untouched.
Those closest to the blast were torn apart by the shockwave, bodies thrown violently across the training ground. Two fell instantly, crushed by the collapsing dark mana. Another was hurled back, screaming, one arm mangled and useless.
The rest panicked.
Their formation broke.
The air itself changed.
Light drained from the training ground as if swallowed. The warmth of the morning sun faded, replaced by an unnatural darkness. Shadows stretched long and deep, the sky above seeming dimmer, heavier.
Kael stood alone at the center of it all.
Dark mana slowly dispersed from his hand; the Black Sun was gone—but its presence lingered, oppressive and suffocating.
He looked around once, eyes sharp, confirming the threat remained.
Then he turned.
"Seraphina."
She lay motionless on the stone.
Kael's expression shifted for the first time—something dangerous flickering beneath the calm.
He stepped toward her, careful but quick. Kneeling beside her, his hands hovered over her, checking her breathing and pulse.
Steady…
His mind raced as he assessed her condition.
She had just lost consciousness—from shock and exhaustion. The earlier spar, the pressure, seeing that… it was too much for her body to handle all at once.
Kael felt something cold and sudden wrapping around his leg.
A hand shot up from the cracked stone, fingers clawing at him, trying to drag him down.
Without hesitation, he reached for the hidden dagger strapped to his leg.
The blade was cold in his hand as he yanked it free. With a sharp, controlled motion, he slashed the hand.
The grip loosened instantly, the fingers twitching before collapsing back into the stone.
Kael's eyes scanned the perimeter. The other assassins, who had seemed frozen in shock after the Black Sun, were no longer hesitating.
A scream echoed from one of them, but they were advancing again.
"They're using their skills," Kael muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.
Kael's eyes flicked down. The dagger that had once lunged toward Seraphina's neck now lay under his foot, glinting faintly in the dark.
He grabbed it, holding one dagger in each hand.
Without hesitation, he lunged forward.
The first assassin didn't even have time to raise his blade. Kael's dagger slashed across the chest, and the man collapsed instantly.
Another came at him from the side. Kael twisted his body mid-step, the second dagger meeting the attacker's wrist with a sharp crack. Pain flared, and the assassin fell backward, clutching his hand.
A third charged from the shadows. Kael's foot caught a loose stone, giving him balance, and with a precise spin he drove both daggers forward, striking the assassin in the chest. The attack was clean and deadly.
One… two… three down. Only six remained.
But it wasn't easy.
Their combat skills were almost at his level. Every dodge, every parry—one fraction of a second too late could have cost him his life.
Kael gritted his teeth, muscles coiling as he prepared to strike again.
Then he saw it—one of the assassins breaking formation, sprinting straight toward Seraphina.
There was no time to run. No time to protect her by closing the distance.
Instinct took over.
Kael hurled both of his daggers with deadly precision.
The assassin twisted to dodge the first dagger—it clattered harmlessly against the stone—but the second dagger didn't miss.
It struck true. The assassin stumbled violently, collapsing in a heap, clutching his side.
Kael's eyes scanned the battlefield.
Only five assassins remained.
Two of them had already lost a hand to his blades.
The rest faltered, hesitation creeping into their movements. They had come expecting an easy job—brats who had awakened their skills only a day ago—but Kael was proving them wrong.
The pressure in the air began to lift, darkness at the edges of the training ground slowly fading. In the distance, shouts from the guards grew louder, approaching fast.
Realizing they couldn't win, the assassins turned and fled, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as they had appeared.
Kael didn't pursue them. The threat had passed for now.
He turned his attention back to Seraphina. Carefully, he crouched and lifted her in his arms. She was still unconscious.
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