A group of nearly twenty figures, draped entirely in black, moved swiftly and silently under the cloak of twilight. Their footsteps were featherlight, their movents choreographed like shadows across stone.
No one chased them, yet the tension in their bodies said otherwise; they couldn’t afford to be chased.
At the head of the formation, the leader repeatedly checked inside the folds of his cloak, his fingers brushing against a hidden object with a reverence that bordered on obsession.
"This... this changes everything."
He gnashed his teeth as the mory of the battle flashed in his mind. It was a catastrophic conflict that had nearly reduced the city to rubble. A war that should never have happened, well, it was a war, they should’ve won but lost, and yet, in its aftermath, it had given him a chance.
A chance he couldn’t waste.
They pushed forward into the outskirts, away from prying eyes and into deeper concealnt, until the silence broke.
Thud.
A body dropped.
No scream. No struggle. Just silence, and then death.
The group turned sharply, eyes scanning for the threat.
Five figures were casually tailing behind them, cloaked in the sa night that had sheltered them monts ago.
"Tch. Stop them!" the leader growled.
Six of his subordinates peeled off imdiately to intercept the attackers.
But then—
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud...
One after another, their bodies hit the ground in eerie rhythm. And then the sixth.
Thud.
The leader’s eyes widened in horror as the realization set in.
All of them were gone.
He didn’t wait to be next. No, he couldn’t be the next.
Panic overtook strategy. He bolted in another direction, breaking from the formation. Maybe, just maybe, the attackers would pursue the group.
They didn’t.
They ca for him.
He barely turned a corner to hide before they were already standing before him, all five.
Silent, imposing, and unreadable.
He had no ti to react, no chance to resist.
He didn’t even know how he died.
Blood splattered across the dusty ground as his body slumped. One of the assassins stepped forward, reaching into his cloak and pulling free the object he had been guarding so fervently.
If any of the Darkan high command in the branch family or Baines had seen it, their expressions would have shifted instantly.
It was a blueprint.
The sa paper guide the blood deplorable had used to create the cursed blood orbs.
This particular group had snuck into the deplorable’s secret room and taken it, just for them to lose it to another group.
Without a word, the five vanished, as if they had never been there.
...
Just as a group had the worst mont of their lives by not even knowing how they died, the sun rose that morning with nobody knowing anything.
The Darkan estate, bathed in morning light, was calm. For once, there was no news of war, no whispers of betrayal or invasion. The estate bustled peacefully, well-maintained and self-satisfied.
With the Darkan reputation at an all-ti high, pride flowed through the veins of every family mber. Their noses were literally tilted upwards, their posture stiff with pride.
For once, no one dared challenge their supremacy.
But today was different.
Unusual.
As the stewards, family mbers, visitors, and guards went about their duties, the door to a secluded residence, one that had remained silent for a full month, finally opened.
Heads turned in perfect synchronization.
No one had been allowed near that house since the Civil War. The order had co from the top: Do not disturb him.
They had respected it. But they had also waited, waited for a sign, a glance, a whisper.
But none ca.
Until now.
From the doorway stepped a tall figure, scarf wrapped around his lower face, his gaze focused and indifferent. He moved with intent.
The gossip exploded imdiately around the family.
"Jin has left his room."
The news spread like wildfire. Servants, stewards, guards, even elders, paused in their tracks to whisper.
Jin. The man who had changed the war.
Suddenly, people were peeking around corners, peering through windows, watching him like a ghost resurrected. So stared in awe, others in disbelief.
The estate had beco his stage.
Even the executives couldn’t resist. They dispatched envoys and representatives to "casually" invite him for conversation, under the pretense of formality, of course.
But Jin walked as though none of them existed.
He didn’t pause. He didn’t greet anyone.
In truth, he didn’t know where he was going.
He was still unfamiliar with the layout of the estate. But that didn’t matter.
Because he knew soone would co.
And right on cue—
"You..."
A familiar voice, surprised yet unsurprised.
He turned. Standing just a few steps ahead was Tasha.
"How do I request permission for a vacation?" he asked flatly, his tone devoid of emotion.
Gasps echoed from nearby onlookers. The tension that followed was thick.
Everyone could tell it was a lie. No one truly believed Jin wanted a vacation. He was going sowhere or going to do sothing. But what could they say?
He’d earned it.
After everything he had done, he deserved this.
Tasha regarded him for a long mont before turning away.
"Co with ."
...
Within the hour, Jin stood before the Darkan family head himself.
The man sat on his throne like a mountain, his eyes quietly analyzing the figure before him.
Even from where he sat, he could sense the changes.
’Already at peak 5th star... in just one month.’
It was difficult to believe, even for soone like him.
"I hear you’ve requested a vacation?" the head asked, voice calm but edged with curiosity.
"Yes, sir."
The head gave a small nod. "Very well. You have a week. Be back before your next mission."
He gestured to a corner.
A knight in silver armor stepped forward, a stoic presence that felt more watchdog than bodyguard.
"Sir Dolik will accompany you. For your... protection."
Jin t the knight’s gaze briefly and looked away.
He knew what the arrangent ant.
Dolik wasn’t there to protect him. He was there to watch him.
But that was fine. Not like he cared in the first place.
With this trip, he intended to kill two birds with one stone.
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