An owl flew through the open window of Zen’s room. It flew around for a moment before landing on the windowsill. Zen took the letter attached to its leg, grabbed a dried fish, and threw it to the owl. It swallowed the fish and looked at Zen with expectant eyes.

“Here.” He threw another one. After the owl finished its second treat, it flapped its wings twice, jumped off the window and flew through the night.

Zen lit the lamp and started reading the letter. As expected, it came from Black Midas, the assassin group funded by one of the dukes.

The message was clear: as one of the assassins based in Lion City, his task was to infiltrate a town east from here and investigate the noble called Lark Marcus. If given the chance, he was to kill the target.

“Lark Marcus,” mumbled Zen. For a moment, he stood staring at the name written at the bottom of the letter. He was sure he’d heard that name before. After some thought, he realized why it felt familiar.

It was the name of the noble that had gone to the Merchants Guild several days ago. The very same noble that had struck a deal with Big Mona.

Working as a clerk for the Merchants Guild was part of the assassin’s way of blending into the crowd.

If I’m not mistaken, that guy’s leaving the city soon. The leader tasked me to investigate him in the town, but since he’s already here…

Zen realized that it would be easier to assassinate Lark in the city, since he’d brought only a handful of guards with him. Furthermore, being killed in a city as large as this would make it hard for anyone to pinpoint the culprit. After all, there were many gangs and several syndicates running around the dark streets.

With these things in mind, Zen donned black attire, covered his face with a mask, and grabbed his weapons. After killing the noble, he would probably be forced to leave the city, but that did not matter. Black Midas was his priority. His job as a clerk in the Merchants Guild was simply a façade.

He should still be in the city. If I’m going to kill him, now’s the perfect time.

Zen jumped out the window and landed softly on the ground. The chilling night breeze brushed against him. Although it was late in the evening, several people walked through the streets— the city was bustling with life.

Zen activated his magic and erased his presence. Using his skills, he blended with the night. He ran through alleyways and streets, eventually reaching the inn where the young noble was staying.

There were no guards around and the door was wide open. The attendant on the desk was half asleep when he entered.

The logbook.

Literacy skills were mandatory for all the Black Midas assassins. Zen looked through the logbook, searching for Lark Marcus’ room. After learning where he was, the assassin climbed the stairs to the third floor and stopped in front of a room. The inn was quiet. Everyone was probably asleep.

Zen picked the lock of the wooden door and entered the room. It was pitch black, but his trained eyes could see everything clearly. On the bed, a young noble with silver hair slept soundly.

He was young, probably twenty years his junior, but Zen did not feel a hint of remorse. He would kill him here and fulfill the assignment given to him.

After confirming the young man sleeping was the same noble that had visited the Merchants Guild a few days ago, Zen crept toward the bed and pulled out his poisoned dagger. He was about to stab him straight in the neck when a voice spoke.

“You’re not among the men that followed me before,” said the voice. It came from directly behind him, as though the owner was speaking into his ears. “Who are you?”

Zen stiffened. He swung his dagger back but struck only air. He looked around and saw no one. He looked at the bed and realized that the young man was gone.

“Answer me.” The voice was ice cold.

A cry almost escaped Zen’s lips when he felt a fist strike his abdomen. He bent in pain and looked around the room. No one was there.

Impossible! How could he, an elite assassin from Black Midas, be unable to detect the presence of his enemy?

Another fist struck him, this time hitting his face. His nose bent and blood spurted from his lips. Still, he did not falter and remained standing.

Where is he? Why can’t I see him?!

“Damn it,” spat Zen. He started activating his magic. A small magic circle glowed underneath his feet. The symbols broke into particles of light and his body was covered with lightning.

“My room’s going to burn if you do that,” said the voice.

To Zen’s surprise, the magic that covered his body started dissipating.

My magic was almost complete! It failed?!

Zen’s eyes widened when he realized that the owner of the voice had forcefully disrupted his magic. But that’s absurd! Impossible! Only those with the rank of Royal Court Magicians were capable of such feat!

Shivers crawled down his spine.

The leader of Black Midas had told him that several assassins would be sent here, and that his job was to get as much information about the noble until the time they arrived. He should have waited for them. He should have not acted so rashly. If he had known that the supposedly incompetent son of Duke Drakus was such a monster, he would have taken this more slowly and carefully.

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped. Zen could not move. Looking down, he realized that half his body was encased in ice, along with both of his hands.

The owner of the voice was still nowhere to be found.

“Not going to talk, huh?” said the voice. “Reading through your memories might not give me what I want. It’s random, fragmented information.”

A cold hand grabbed his face. Zen felt the murderous intent behind it. He wanted to scream but couldn’t.

“Even tough guys like you will speak once you’ve been broken.” Pain shot through Zen’s body. He clenched his teeth as he trembled from the excruciating pain. Tears streamed down his face, and muffled groans escaped his lips.

“Let’s see the extent of your loyalty, shall we?” The voice was cold and piercing. Zen tried to scream but no voice came out.

***

The interrogation nearly consumed all of Lark’s mana pool. Surprisingly, it took almost an hour before the man eventually decided to speak. He was half-dead by then, begging Lark to kill him.

Contrary to his initial speculation, Big Mona had not sent the man. According to the assassin, he was part of a criminal group called Black Midas—an association owned by one of the three dukes. He had received an order from their leader to investigate him, and if given the chance, kill him.

But what surprised Lark the most was the motive behind it. It was not for ransom or gold, but something else—the competition for the throne.

According to the assassin, four years from now, the king would choose his successor from among the sons of the three dukes. As the second son of Lord Drakus, Lark was among the candidates for the throne.

So, my brother’s the strongest candidate and they’re hoping to use me bring him down.

Lark smiled wryly. Who would have known that such drama was going on while he was busy developing the town? Things had taken an interesting turn.

He chuckled.

“A king?” Lark looked out the open window. “I don’t really care about that. But if they’re going to come and attack me…” His eyes were predatory.

Lark would crush anyone who dared take his life or harm his town.