"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin" Chapter 41: The Feast of Fools

The moon hung high over the capital, its pale glow casting long shadows across the rooftops. Seraphis moved like a phantom through the back alleys, her footsteps silent, her presence erased from the world.

Tonight’s hunt had already begun.

Her latest prey?

Viscount Everett Calloway.

A noble deeply entrenched in the city’s underworld, running smuggling rings, assassinations, and human trafficking beneath the polished surface of high society.

A mber of the hidden Noble Council, the shadowy elite who ruled the capital from the darkness.

And she had found him.

A Tortured Confession

The underground chamber reeked of blood and fear.

Everett scread, his once-pristine noble attire soaked in crimson, his wrists bound by enchanted chains that burned his flesh.

Seraphis stood over him, unmoved.

His face was twisted in agony, his mouth trembling as he gasped for breath.

"You nobles never handle pain well," she mused, her silver eyes gleaming in the dim torchlight.

Everett coughed, blood spilling from his lips.

"P-please… I’ll give you anything…" he wheezed.

Seraphis knelt beside him, her dagger pressing against his cheek.

"You think I want your wealth?" she murmured.

Everett shuddered.

"W-what do you want…?"

Her lips curled into a slow, chilling smile.

"Information."

She dragged the blade down, carving a shallow line across his skin.

Everett shrieked, his body convulsing.

"I-I’ll talk!" he sobbed. "There’s a council! A secret council of nobles who control the capital’s underworld!"

Seraphis’s fingers tightened on the blade.

Bingo.

Everett’s panicked eyes darted to her.

"They et in the old district… inside a hidden chamber beneath the Grand Opera House!" he choked.

Seraphis leaned in.

"And their leader?"

Everett’s face twisted in terror.

"Lord V… he’s the one who—"

Seraphis slit his throat.

Blood gushed from the open wound, his body twitching violently before going still.

She watched dispassionately, wiping her blade clean before setting to work.

She wasn’t done with him yet.

A Noble’s Body, A Butcher’s Work

Everett’s head hit the floor first.

Then his arms.

His legs.

His feet.

She carved him apart, piece by piece, flesh and bone separated with surgical precision.

By the ti she was done, his dismbered remains were neatly wrapped and stored inside her spatial bag.

Then, she moved to the next phase.

Infiltration.

The Silent Maid

The Grand Opera House was a place of elegance, beauty, and power.

But beneath its luxurious facade lay rot.

Seraphis had entered through the servants’ entrance, her form disguised by illusion magic.

She was now Eliza, a simple maid, her white hair turned a mousy brown, her assassin’s garb replaced with a plain black dress and apron.

The council’s secret chamber lay beneath the opera house, deep within a hidden hall accessible only to those of high rank.

But tonight, Seraphis had an invitation.

And dinner.

A Feast for the Wicked

The chamber was grand—golden chandeliers, velvet walls, and a circular table where five nobles sat in deep discussion.

These were the rulers of the city’s underworld.

She slipped in silently, setting down the silver trays before them, the scent of the freshly cooked al wafting through the air.

The nobles glanced at her but paid no mind.

They were used to being served.

One by one, the silver lids were lifted, revealing succulent cuts of at, expertly seasoned and plated.

A feast fit for royalty.

The nobles dug in without hesitation.

Seraphis watched.

And waited.

Until the first plate was clean.

Then she laughed.

A deep, sickeningly amused laugh that echoed off the chamber walls.

The nobles froze.

One of them, a burly man with a gold-rimd monocle, slamd his goblet on the table.

"Why the hell are you laughing, woman?"

Seraphis grinned, leaning forward, her silver eyes blazing.

"You wouldn’t believe if I told you," she purred.

The room fell dead silent.

Seraphis tapped a single finger on the table.

"But since you insist…"

She gestured to the now-empty plates.

"You just ate Viscount Everett Calloway."

The silence shattered.

One noble gagged, pushing away from the table so violently his chair toppled over.

Another vomited, his face turning a sickly shade of green.

Seraphis leaned back, enjoying the horror etched onto their faces.

She placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands.

"Tell ," she said, voice laced with amusent.

"Where the hell is Lord V?"