"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin" Chapter 33: A Contract in Shadows

The assassin's guild was buzzing with activity when Seraphis pushed through the heavy doors. The scent of burning oil, steel, and damp stone filled the air, mingling with the murmured conversations of killers-for-hire.

She strode toward the front desk, where Sophie was flipping through a thick ledger.

Sophie looked up, then sighed dramatically.

"You again? Let guess—another job?"

Seraphis smirked. "What gave it away?"

"The fact that you’re here instead of enjoying your new castle in the mountains like a normal person." Sophie arched a brow. "So, what do you want? Another contract?"

"Preferably sothing interesting."

Sophie tapped her quill against her chin. "Well, there's one... but it's weird."

Seraphis leaned in. "Weird how?"

"See for yourself."

Sophie slid a sealed black envelope across the counter. Seraphis picked it up, flipping it over. There was no sender's mark, no crest, nothing to indicate who had requested the job.

Just a na.

"The Silver Mask."

Seraphis frowned. "Never heard of them."

"Neither has anyone else," Sophie muttered. "The request ca out of nowhere. No one knows who the client is, but the pay is huge."

Seraphis broke the seal and pulled out the parchnt inside.

Her eyes scanned the neatly written script.

Target: Unknown.

Location: The city of Duskveil.

Instructions: Retrieve a stolen artifact. The artifact is hidden within the estate of Lord Venaris, a noble with a fondness for rare magical objects.

Warning: The estate is heavily guarded, and the artifact is cursed.

Seraphis tapped the paper. "A cursed artifact?"

Sophie shrugged. "Yeah. Like I said—weird."

Seraphis smirked. "Perfect."

The Road to Duskveil

Duskveil was a city carved from black stone, its towering spires wrapped in perpetual mist. The streets were a labyrinth of narrow alleys, hidden doorways, and watchful eyes lurking in the shadows.

Seraphis moved through the city with practiced ease, blending into the crowd as she approached the towering estate of Lord Venaris.

The mansion was a fortress, surrounded by high walls and patrolled by ard guards. Blue lanterns flickered at the gates, glowing with enchanted fire.

Seraphis crouched in the shadows, observing.

The guards rotated every fifteen minutes.

The estate had only one main entrance—but several small side doors used by the servants.

A magical barrier shimred along the upper floors, likely to ward off intruders.

She smirked.

Too bad magic barriers didn’t stop her.

Breaking In

She waited until the shift change. When the guards turned away, she moved.

A single silent leap carried her over the wall, landing her in the estate’s inner courtyard. The air slled of damp earth and expensive perfu, and the soft glow of enchanted lights illuminated the path ahead.

She stayed low, slipping through the shadows until she reached a servant’s entrance.

Locked.

Seraphis reached into her belt, pulling out a thin tal card. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she slid it into the lock—

Click.

She was in.

The Artifact

The estate's interior was lavish—polished floors, towering bookshelves, and gold-trimd tapestries depicting battles of old.

She moved swiftly through the halls, avoiding patrolling guards and sidestepping traps hidden in the floorboards.

Finally, she found what she was looking for.

The artifact rested on a pedestal in the center of a circular chamber, bathed in the glow of blue-tinted magic.

It was a small obsidian box, carved with glowing silver runes. The air around it humd, charged with an unseen force.

Seraphis frowned.

Curses usually felt... oppressive. This felt alive.

She reached out, hovering her fingers over the box—

A whisper brushed against her mind.

Who are you?

She froze.

Voices weren’t normal for cursed objects.

Touch …

Seraphis narrowed her eyes.

"Yeah, no thanks."

Instead of grabbing the box directly, she pulled out a cloth-wrapped pouch and used it to scoop the object up. The mont it was enclosed, the whispering stopped.

Problem solved.

Now, she just had to get out.

The Chase

She made it halfway through the estate before everything went wrong.

A sudden explosion shook the hallways, and the distant sound of shouting guards filled the air.

Seraphis cursed.

Sohow, the artifact had triggered an alarm.

She broke into a sprint, weaving through corridors as armored n poured into the halls. The sound of tal boots echoed behind her.

She reached the balcony, eyes scanning for an escape—

Too high to jump.

Her fingers tightened around her tal cards.

Fine.

She turned to face the incoming guards, a wolfish grin spreading across her lips.

"Alright, boys," she murmured. "Let's dance."

The Getaway

The fight was fast and brutal.

Her tal cards spun through the air, slicing throats, piercing armor, and severing tendons. She moved like a shadow, dodging swords and using the chaos to slip past the bulk of the guards.

By the ti the last body hit the ground, she was already on the rooftop.

She vaulted over the ledge, landing in the alley below.

A horse was waiting for her—a rental from earlier.

With one final glance at the flaming mansion, she smirked, kicked the reins, and vanished into the night.

Back at the Guild

Seraphis arrived at the guild just before dawn, tossing the artifact onto Garrick’s desk.

He raised an eyebrow.

"That was fast."

She shrugged. "They weren't very good at stopping ."

He leaned forward, eyeing the obsidian box. "You open it?"

"Not stupid enough to try."

"Smart girl."

Garrick sat back, stroking his beard. "Well, you did the job. Paynt's already in your account."

Seraphis nodded, turning to leave.

But before she reached the door—

"Seraphis."

She paused.

Garrick’s eyes were sharp, his expression unreadable.

"Next ti," he said, tapping the black envelope, "be careful. Whoever sent this job... they're watching you now."

Seraphis smirked.

"Let them."