"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin" Chapter 142: The Hunt for Lord Rendar Valtis

The night was thick with the scent of rain and blood. Elowen stood at the edge of a shadowed ridge, staring down at the grand Valtis Estate, a fortress masquerading as a noble’s mansion. Beneath its polished marble façade and towering spires lay the truth—a den of horrors where Lord Rendar Valtis conducted his sinister experints.

Illegal alchemy, human experintation, and the ruthless extermination of anyone who dared uncover his work.

Tonight, his reign would end.

A Fortress Wrapped in Chains

The Valtis Estate was no ordinary stronghold.

Layers of runic barriers, arcane sentries, and elite enforcers patrolled its periter. Thick walls lined with obsidian spikes surrounded the estate, while watchtowers lood high, each containing archers trained to fire at the first sign of intrusion.

Elowen crouched behind the cover of a gnarled oak, analyzing the movent patterns of the patrols.

A frontal assault? Suicide.

A quiet infiltration? Difficult, but not impossible.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers gripping the hilt of her twin daggers.

She had done the impossible before.

And she would do it again.

Slipping into the Abyss

The mont the nearest watchtower torch flickered, Elowen moved.

A blur in the darkness.

She vaulted over the stone wall, landing silently between patrol routes.

A guard turned—too late.

Her blade sank into his throat, his dying gasp muffled as she lowered him to the ground.

One down.

Elowen dragged his corpse into the shadows, then scaled the outer wall, her boots silent against the stone.

Above, two archers stood watch.

She reached the top.

A flash of steel.

One archer fell, his body slumping over the edge.

The other spun, drawing his bow—

Elowen slit his throat before he could scream.

A House of Suffering

Inside the estate, the halls were eerily silent.

Not a single servant. Not a single noble.

Only warriors, their armor lined with golden sigils, their faces concealed beneath steel masks.

Rendar’s personal guard.

Elowen exhaled, steadying her breathing.

She moved like a ghost, weaving through the hallways, slipping past doors where she could hear the muffled cries of prisoners.

Her grip on her daggers tightened.

Soon, they would be avenged.

The Lord of Horrors Awaits

At the heart of the estate, a massive set of obsidian doors lood ahead.

Beyond them? Lord Rendar Valtis.

The two sentries standing guard didn’t even see her coming.

A swift slice across the hamstring.

A dagger through the skull.

They crumpled.

Elowen pressed a hand against the doors, sensing the arcane barrier woven into the wood.

A simple lockpick wouldn’t do.

Instead, she reached for a small vial tucked within her belt—an alchemical solvent designed to dissolve magical seals.

With a single drop, the enchantnt fizzled.

The doors creaked open.

And she stepped into the lair of the monster.

A Throne of Bone and Gold

The chamber was vast, lined with towering alchemy vats filled with grotesque abominations, their bodies writhing beneath green, bubbling liquid.

And at the center, upon a throne of gilded bone, sat Lord Rendar Valtis.

A gaunt figure clad in dark robes, his hands stained with alchemical residue. His silver hair was slicked back, his eyes burning with unnatural power.

"You’ve co far, little assassin," he mused, swirling a glass vial of crimson liquid between his fingers.

Elowen didn’t waste words.

She lunged.

A Battle of Blades and Sorcery

Rendar moved faster than she expected.

With a flick of his wrist, alchemy-infused smoke erupted, obscuring the chamber.

Elowen’s vision blurred as the toxin burned her lungs.

She leaped backward, rolling to regain her footing.

A sudden whoosh of air—

Rendar’s dagger sliced through the smoke, nearly grazing her throat.

She twisted, retaliating with a precise stab toward his ribs—

But he wasn’t there anymore.

The Sorcerer’s Wrath

A shockwave of energy sent Elowen flying, slamming into a stone pillar.

Pain exploded through her ribs.

She barely had ti to recover before Rendar struck again—a glass sphere filled with swirling, molten liquid hurtling toward her.

She dodged—too slow.

The sphere shattered, liquid fla splattering across her arm.

Elowen bit back a scream, rolling to extinguish the burning alchemical concoction.

Rendar laughed.

"You’re quick," he mused. "But not quick enough."

Turning the Tide

Elowen forced herself up, ignoring the pain.

Focus.

Her eyes scanned the chamber. Tools. Weaknesses. Openings.

Then she saw it.

One of the alchemy vats, its glass weakened by heat fractures.

An idea struck.

She lunged again, feinting left—then hurling a dagger toward the vat.

Glass shattered.

The abomination inside—a twisted, monstrous fusion of human and beast—erupted free, roaring in agony.

Rendar’s eyes widened.

That single mont of hesitation was all Elowen needed.

The Killing Blow

She closed the distance in a heartbeat.

One dagger slashed across Rendar’s palm, knocking away his next vial.

The other sank deep into his chest, piercing his heart.

Rendar staggered, blood spilling from his lips.

His golden eyes, once so filled with arrogance, now dimd with disbelief.

"No—"

Elowen twisted the blade.

And Lord Rendar Valtis fell.

A City Freed

As dawn broke over Vorthal Keep, the Valtis Estate burned.

Elowen stood amidst the wreckage, the head of Lord Rendar Valtis resting on a pike.

The whispers had already begun.

Another tyrant slain.

Another step toward the fall of the Obsidian Spire.