"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin" Chapter 223 – The Puppet’s Strings

The night was far from over.

With Gregor Drakos and Sylvaine Valefor dead, Seraphis turned her attention to the mansion’s depths.

The Bloodhound had secrets.

Secrets that would bring her closer to unraveling the truth behind the Sleepers—and their mysterious benefactor.

And so, with the silent grace of a shadow, she stepped over Gregor’s lifeless body and entered his fortress of secrets.

The Bloodhound’s Archive

The mansion was eerily quiet, its halls lined with trophies from Gregor’s past conquests.

Beast skulls, shattered weapons, and armor from fallen enemies adorned the walls.

A testant to his brutal legacy.

But Seraphis wasn’t here for trophies.

She was here for knowledge.

And she found it in his study.

Rows of bookshelves lined the chamber, scrolls stacked upon an obsidian desk, and in the center—a locked iron safe.

Seraphis smirked.

Locks were nothing to her.

She placed a single finger on the safe’s surface, her magic seeping into its intricate chanisms.

Click.

The door swung open, revealing stacks of docunts.

She flipped through them.

At first—nas, transactions, kill orders—the typical affairs of a rcenary leader.

Then—

Sothing interesting.

A sealed letter, bearing the Valefor insignia.

Seraphis tore it open.

Her eyes scanned the words.

And then she stilled.

The Na in the Shadows

The letter spoke of a woman.

Not just any woman—

The wife of the Valefor patriarch.

A woman whose existence had been erased from public knowledge.

No records. No paintings. No history.

And yet—

She was the key to everything.

The experints. The sleeper project. The unholy alliance between the great vampire families.

A hidden puppeteer.

And she was alive.

Seraphis grinned.

Now that was sothing she could use.

The Hunt Begins

Tracking the woman’s location wasn’t difficult.

Gregor’s paranoia had been his downfall.

He had kept detailed notes on everyone—his allies, his enemies, and even his own employers.

The letter ntioned a remote estate, far from the main Valefor holdings.

A mansion shrouded in secrecy, guarded only by a handful of trusted retainers.

That night, Seraphis moved.

And by dawn—

She found the mansion.

The Sleeping Queen

The estate was silent, wrapped in the thick fog of early morning.

Seraphis slipped inside with ease.

The guards?

re mortals. Inconsequential.

She bypassed them with a simple illusion, weaving herself into their perception as a wandering noblewoman.

Inside, the mansion was lavish, adorned with silken drapes and gilded chandeliers.

At its heart—

A bedchamber.

And inside—

A sleeping woman.

Seraphis stood over her, studying her carefully.

She was beautiful—elegant, but aged by ti and burden.

The wife of the Valefor patriarch.

A woman erased from history.

Seraphis leaned closer.

Then, with a single touch—

She entered her mind.

Rewriting Reality

The woman’s dreams twisted into nightmares of Seraphis’ making.

She saw visions of her husband betraying her.

Of House Valefor plotting against her.

Of House Nocturne seeking her death.

And then, in the heart of her tornt—

Seraphis appeared.

A savior.

A commanding force.

And when the woman awoke—

Her eyes, once filled with wisdom, were now empty.

She turned to Seraphis, her voice a whisper of devotion:

"What are your commands, Lady Seraphis?"

Seraphis smiled.

The Order of Destruction

“You are to return to House Valefor and act as if nothing has changed,” Seraphis said, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear.

The woman nodded obediently.

“But when the ti cos,” Seraphis continued, her voice laced with amusent, “you will rally one thousand soldiers and march upon House Nocturne.”

The woman blinked. “House Nocturne…?”

Seraphis’ grin widened.

“Kill the patriarch. Kill his two sons.”

“Let the daughters live in fear.”

“Make them suffer.”

The woman hesitated for a re mont.

Then—

She bowed.

"It shall be done, Lady Seraphis."

Seraphis chuckled.

House Nocturne would never see it coming.

And when they fell—

It would be by the hands of one of their own.

The Beginning of War

Seraphis watched as the woman left the estate, her new puppet marching towards House Valefor to set her plan into motion.

The war had begun.

Not through swords, nor fire—

But through manipulation and shadows.

Seraphis turned away, disappearing into the mist, already planning her next move.

There were more families to break.

More gas to play.

And when the dust settled—

She would stand above them all.