“It’s getting dark. Isn’t it bad to arrive there at night?” Layla asked. “I’ll look really suspicious. They won’t let me in.”

“Yes, you’ll look very suspicious, Layla. So what? You want to spend the night in this creepy forest?”

They kept walking.

“You swear this isn’t some plan where I get used as bait to distract everyone while you secretly sneak inside?”

Luke stopped and gave a light cough. “Layla, do you really think I’d be cruel enough to use a poor girl as bait, surround her with armed lunatics itching to kill an intruder, just so I can safely complete my objectives?”

She paused, thinking it over.

“You’re right… nobody would be that cruel.”

Luke tapped open the notification for his new Witch level 30 skill. Five options appeared.

[Cursed Aura (Rare)]: The witch shrouds her body in cursed energy, causing the [Curse] to pulse with every movement. While active, anyone who touches her suffers [Curse] damage, as if the witch’s very skin repels life itself.

Interesting. Useful if someone tried to grab him in a fight. He moved on.

[Spellguard (Rare)]: The witch raises an arcane seal before herself, wrapping her body in a layer of condensed mana. For a short time, the barrier absorbs part of incoming spell damage, reducing magical damage taken before dissipating.

Definitely a buff.

[Witch’s Lover Slave I (Ultra-Rare)]: By kissing a man with low willpower, the witch casts a seductive curse that poisons his mind. Overwhelmed by an illusory passion, the target obeys her as a temporary servant until the effect ends or the curse is broken. Only one slave may be maintained at a time, and the charm cannot be cast again on the same target.

He froze for a moment.

What? What the hell is this? No. Absolutely not.

‘Pick that one, Luke. You know… it’s always good to have a secret weapon’, Artemis said in his thoughts, laughing softly.

Luke chose to ignore the annoying soul.

[Evil Hex (Rare)]: The witch conjures a curse that weakens the enemy’s magical defenses, corroding their arcane protections and leaving them more vulnerable to spells for a short duration.

That one clearly fell into the debuff category.

[Witch’s Thread (Rare)]: The witch enchants a knife so that when thrown and embedded into a solid surface within a five-meter radius, it generates a thread of condensed mana connecting the blade to the witch’s hand. This allows her to pull herself forward or rapidly change position during combat. The thread can be used to reach elevated areas, evade enemy attacks, or reposition amid battlefield chaos. Its structure is unstable and dissolves after a few seconds, requiring precision and mana control to use effectively.

None of the skils were especially offensive. So he picked the one with the most practical value.

[You have acquired the Second Class skill: Witch’s Thread.]

***

Luke moved through the trees, drawing a throwing knife from his holster as he focused his magic.

[Witch’s Thread activated]

The knife flew into a tree, and a thin, shimmering thread formed from the blade’s tip straight to Luke’s hand. The pull yanked him upward. He hurled another knife into the next tree, grabbed the new thread, and swung forward, moving from tree to tree through the forest like a pendulum, until he landed near Layla.

Luke pointed his hand toward the ground.

[Teleportation Circle 1 activated]

“Isn’t that your crazy teleport magic?” Layla asked.

“It is.”

“Then why are you placing it here? You’re not planning to use me as bait, invade the place, and teleport out, are you?”

“Of course not, Layla.”

He rested a hand on her back and gently urged her forward. “Go ahead. Keep your bow in your hands.”

“With my bow out? That’ll make me look suspicious.”

“Walking in with your bow visible tells them you aren’t hiding any weapons.”

“Are you sure this won’t be dangerous?”

“Absolutely sure.”

He let Layla move ahead while he slipped into his assassin gear. The stairs were long, just like the other temples, built high above the land. Forest stretched out in every direction, a mix of ordinary trees and, oddly enough, coconut palms. Nature rarely followed logic in alternate worlds.

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Luke climbed alongside Layla, keeping to the forest instead of the path. Franky followed behind.

[Soul Infiltration activated]

A black cat leapt from Luke and vanished into Layla’s body. Luke’s control over the cat had limits. He could not send it far on its own to scout for people. The farther it strayed, the more it began to dissipate. The only way to extend its range was through a host. From there, he could make it jump to someone else.

The plan was simple. Use the cat to monitor Layla’s situation while he infiltrated the temple separately. But the moment Layla reached the top, she froze, then stumbled backward in fear.

Luke saw it instantly.

What the hell happened here?

He burst from the undergrowth, grabbed Layla, and dove back into the bushes on the opposite side.

“D-d-danger,” Layla stammered.

They stayed hidden.

“D-d-did you see it?” she whispered.

“I did. Stay here.”

He peeked out.

The temple doors stood wide open. What should have been a small camp of tents around it was completely destroyed. Blood stained the ground, smeared across stone and earth. Dozens of severed heads were mounted on stakes, forming a grotesque line in front of the temple.

Something had gone very wrong. Bodies lay scattered across the area. Luke drew his kukris.

“What are you going to do?” Layla asked quietly.

“I need to go inside and get the map.”

Franky emerged beside him, moving through the brush.

“Snake, you’ll have to return to my soul,” Luke said. “I can’t manage two at once.”

Franky vanished.

Luke stepped out of the bushes.

“And me?” Layla asked.

“Are you staying here,” he said, “or do you want to come with me?”

***

They were inside the temple. Blood was everywhere. Headless bodies lay scattered across the floor. Luke activated [Assassin’s Tracking], trying to find footprints or any sign of what had happened, but there were none. No tracks other than those of the victims themselves.

Whatever did this left no trail.

Windows stood open, doors hung ajar. The entire place had been torn apart. On the wall of one of the corridors, a single word had been written in blood: ‘Liar.’

Luke crouched in front of a body. It was the only one that still had a head, though its eyes were missing. The corpse lay directly beneath the word.

“That’s their leader,” Layla said quietly. “The one who spoke for Arcadia.”

This isn’t the baron’s soldiers’ way of killing, and I doubt the alchemists would do something like this.

“Until recently, their leader had been in contact with the Lagras military,” Layla went on. “I saw them there a few times. They were considering helping Cassandra and Peter.”

Luke already knew that. Even though Arcadia had few members, every single one of them was Rank E. Strong. As strong as he was.

“Well,” Layla said after a moment, “looks like they won’t be helping anyone now.”

“From what Cassandra said, even with their small numbers, they were powerful. Their leader was Rank…”

“Rank D,” Luke finished. “I heard that too.”

Rank D. A level of power far beyond his own. Someone who might have stood on the same tier as the Midnight King, now lying dead on a temple floor.

Whatever killed him had faced an entire group of Rank E fighters, then taken down a Rank D.

Luke stood and followed the corridor deeper into the temple. “Since the place is empty now, I need to check the treasure room.”

Maybe this temple would hold a different clue. Something pointing toward the hidden temple of the Demon Smith.

“Stay close to me. This doesn’t look old. A few days, maybe a week at most. I don’t really understand the biological logic of corpse decomposition in this dimension.”

When they reached the chamber, the place was in ruins. It had been used as some kind of storage area. Luke had no idea how the battle to claim that temple from the oni had unfolded in the past, but one thing was clear. It hadn’t been easy. Parts of the ceiling in what must have once been the throne room had collapsed.

“What do you think happened for all of them to end up dead?” Layla asked.

Luke was staring at the map painted on the wall.

“No idea. But whoever did this took their treasure. If I had to guess a motive, I’d put my money on that.”

He began copying the map onto paper. First, he drew it on a single sheet, carefully capturing every detail. Then he moved on to a second version, connecting it to the previous map, sketching where he believed the third one would fit.

He stared at the drawing.

Wait. Is it just me, or is this starting to look like a face?

A sound cut through the silence. Footsteps echoed across the chamber. Layla turned toward the doorway. The sound was coming from the corridor. Luke drew his kukris. Layla pulled her bowstring taut. The steps grew louder. Calm. Deliberate. Whoever was approaching clearly wanted to be heard.

Layla slipped behind a crate and crouched low, bow ready. Luke pressed himself against the wall, melting into the shadows. When the footsteps stopped, a silhouette crossed the threshold. A man in a black suit, impeccably tailored. Polished black leather shoes. And on his face… an oni mask.

Luke slid one kukri back into its sheath and instead conjured a black throwing knife in his hand.

“It seems our stories have crossed,” the man said. “Did your people send you here as well?”

Luke said nothing.

“Did they try to pull a trick on you too? Unfortunately for your side, we arrived first. They attempted to scam a gift meant for the son of the great Shogun,” the masked man continued, his voice disturbingly calm.

Shogun?

“Let Queen Grimhart know that the matter has been resolved and that we claimed what was ours. Sadly, it turned into a race to see who reached the swindlers first. Or were you planning to take the Tsukumogami yourselves?”

Queen Grimhart? He thinks we work for her? Why?

“There’s no need to keep hiding. I saw you from outside. You know, your attire makes it quite clear which organization you belong to. Just like mine,” the man added with a soft chuckle.

Then Luke saw movement through the shattered windows. Figures slipped in, each entering through a different opening.

Shit.

Every instinct told him he had just found the enemy. The kind capable of taking down a Rank D.

Nine ninjas dropped inside without making a single sound. They landed, knelt, and formed a ceremonial corridor leading toward the man in the suit and oni mask as he walked forward.

“So,” the man said, his gaze fixed ahead, “what will it be, Assassin of Lakarion? Will you keep hiding, or will you step forward and greet one of the Twelve Daimyos of New Japan?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep