Chapter 231: Shadow Guild

They leaped down from the rooftops all at once, their figures cutting through the night air as they descended toward Ethan with killing intent.

Their movements were swift and precise, the kind born from countless assassinations carried out in silence.

Ethan reacted instantly.

He drove his sword straight into the ground. The moment the blade touched the stone pavement, a sharp metallic sound rang out, and dozens of spectral swords burst upward in a circular formation around him.

They formed a dense defensive wall, their blades overlapping and spinning with violent force.

The assassins’ attacks slammed into the sword barrier.

The momentum of their strikes was completely halted. Those whose attacks failed were violently repelled, their bodies flung backward through the air like broken dolls.

They crashed onto rooftops and streets, rolling and skidding across stone, but none of them were injured yet.

This defense alone could not kill them.

The only way to finish them was to attack directly.

Ethan pulled his sword free from the ground and launched himself sideways. His jump was explosive and fast, the force of it sending a powerful gust of wind across the street.

Loose debris scattered, cloaks fluttered, and for a brief moment, his figure blurred in motion.

Several assassins widened their eyes in shock.

They barely had time to react before Ethan was already among them.

One of them turned and raised his sword in panic, trying to block Ethan’s swing. His arms trembled as he poured all his strength into the defense.

It was useless.

Ethan swung his blade horizontally. Crimson energy burst forth from the sword’s edge, expanding into a wide arc of destructive force.

The crimson slash tore through multiple assassins at once.

Their bodies were hurled backward by the sheer impact, slamming into a nearby building with terrifying force.

The wall shattered on contact, erupting into a massive explosion that echoed through the district.

Stone, wood, and dust rained down.

The assassins struck by the slash died instantly. Their bodies lay motionless, buried beneath the rubble of the collapsed structure.

The sudden deaths sent shockwaves through the remaining assassins.

Panic spread through them like poison.

Their breathing became uneven. Their movements slowed. Doubt crept into their minds, clouding their judgment and shaking their resolve. Some hesitated, their weapons lowering slightly as fear took hold.

But not all of them stopped.

A few had already been consumed by anger and desperation. Their reason was gone, replaced by blind emotion.

They charged again, their movements erratic but fast, trying to overwhelm Ethan through sheer numbers.

Ethan sensed movement behind him.

He turned his head slightly and realized that one assassin had slipped into his blind spot, targeting him from the rear. His first skill was still on cooldown. Waiting for it was not an option.

The best choice was Ashura Rift.

Ethan lifted his sword and swung it upward from below, his motion sharp and decisive. Three claw-shaped slashes of crimson energy shot forward, ripping through the air at terrifying speed.

The assassin froze in shock.

He did not even have time to dodge.

The attack struck him head-on.

His body was torn apart, pieces severed cleanly as the crimson claws passed through him. He collapsed lifelessly onto the ground.

“Two assassins dead,” Ethan said calmly, turning his gaze toward the others. “Who’s next?”

There were seven assassins still standing.

They kept their distance now, spreading out instinctively, unwilling to step any closer. None of them wanted to be the next corpse.

“He’s too strong,” one of them said, his voice tense. “We should pull back for now.”

“Retreat!” their leader ordered sharply.

They turned to flee.

But it was already too late.

Figures appeared across the street and on the surrounding rooftops. They moved swiftly and in perfect coordination, surrounding the assassins from all directions.

LionArk’s scout team had arrived.

Their numbers far exceeded those of the assassins. They wore the blue-and-white uniforms of LionArk, their expressions cold and focused.

Each of them carried light weapons, daggers and short swords designed for speed and precision.

One figure leaped down from above and landed beside Ethan with a solid thud.

It was Hanss.

“Looks like you’re having a busy night, Sir Ethan,” Hanss said.

“How did you know?” Ethan asked.

“One of my scouts spotted you fighting them,” Hanss replied, “This situation was clearly dangerous.”

Ethan nodded silently.

Now that Hanss and the LionArk scouts had arrived, there was no need for Ethan to continue. This situation fell squarely under their authority.

He dismissed Bloodblade Ashura. The crimson aura faded, the red tattoos receding as his body returned to normal.

The overwhelming pressure vanished, leaving the street eerily quiet.

Hanss extended his hand and gave a sharp command.

“Capture all of them.”

The scouts moved immediately.

The seven fleeing assassins were chased down without mercy. The sounds of pursuit echoed through the streets, leaving only Ethan and Hanss standing amid the aftermath.

They walked toward the collapsed building, stopping near the rubble where one assassin lay crushed beneath stone and debris.

“Do you recognize them?” Ethan asked.

Hanss cleared his throat.

“Yes,” he said, “Based on their movements and behavior, I know who they are.”

“They’re called the Shadow Guild.”

“They form temporary guilds made entirely of hired killers. Once a job is finished, they dissolve the guild and scatter, blending back into the crowd.”

“They repeat this process constantly. That’s why they’re so hard to track.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes.

Assassins like these operated purely on payment. They used the money to form new guilds, purchase equipment, and pay their members. The rest went into preparing for their next job.

Because they were the Shadow Guild, their identities and locations were never fixed.

They’re ghosts and ghosts are difficult to kill.

“Has something like this happened in Mavelard before?” Ethan asked.

“I’ve received reports of people being harassed or targeted,” Hanss replied, “But we couldn’t confirm whether the Shadow Guild was responsible.”

“People who enjoy killing are often afraid of dying themselves,” Ethan said calmly.

“Use that. Interrogate them. Extract everything they know. Then blacklist them from the city.”

“I understand,” Hanss replied.

They returned to the LionArk headquarters to wait for the results.

Out of the seven assassins, five were captured, including their team leader.

They were brought back battered and bruised, their faces swollen, their bodies covered in cuts and scrapes.

Ethan and Hanss stood at the entrance of the headquarters, watching as the captives were forced to kneel.

Ethan stepped forward.

He stopped directly in front of the leader and crouched down, meeting the man’s eyes. The assassin’s face was covered in bruises, his body trembling from pain and exhaustion.

“You’re their leader?” Ethan asked.

“Go to hell, Ethan!” the man shouted, spitting directly at him.

“YOU—!” Hanss roared.

Ethan raised his hand, stopping Hanss and the scouts from reacting.

He calmly wiped the spit from his face with a handkerchief. His right hand extended to the side, and Bloodblade Ashura materialized once more.

Without hesitation, he drove the blade straight into the man’s stomach.

The assassin screamed in agony as the sword tore through his flesh.

“AAAGH!”

Ethan pulled the sword free and grabbed the man by the hair, forcing him onto his back. The assassin stared up at Ethan, his eyes filled with pain and terror.

“Are you going to kill me?” the man gasped.

Ethan smiled faintly and shook his head.

He took out an HP potion and poured it directly onto the gaping wound. Slowly, visibly, the man’s health recovered. The wound closed. The bruises faded.

The assassin’s eyes widened in horror.

“No, don’t—”

STAB.

Ethan plunged the sword into his stomach again. He twisted the blade, tearing through flesh and muscle.

The man’s screams were louder this time, echoing through the streets and waking nearby residents.

“Tell me,” Ethan said coldly, “who paid you to kill me?”

“N-Nash,” the man stammered.

“Who is Nash?” Ethan asked, glancing at Hanss.

“Nash Arkenville,” Hanss replied, “One of Silver Star’s officers.”

Silver Star.

The coincidence was too perfect.

This confirms it. They really are planning to attack Mavelard.

Ethan stopped the torture and withdrew his sword, dismissing it once more. He stood up and turned away, leaving the matter entirely in Hanss’s hands.

“Understood, Sir Ethan,” Hanss said firmly.

The city would not forget this night.

Ashley stepped outside, curious about where the earlier noise had come from. When she reached the front yard, she saw blood on the ground and several people who had been captured by LionArk’s scouting team.

Ethan walked over to Ashley, clearly noticing that she had just woken up, as she was still wearing her sleep pajamas.

“What happened?”

“Someone tried to kill me. But I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Are you sure?” Ashley asked.

“Yes. They’re from the Shadow Guild, a group of hired assassins under orders from Silver Star.”

“This only strengthens my belief that they are indeed planning to attack Mavelard tomorrow.”

“If that’s the case, you need to prepare immediately.”

“Have you already bought it?” Ashley asked.

Ethan nodded. He explained that he would install the device tonight and use it tomorrow.

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