Chapter 146: The Man Behind ’Cael’

Level V.

We were finally getting somewhere. No more faceless fodder, no more endless walking, the two of us had finally reached the heart of it all.

And this wasn’t just some random branch like the one Julius explored in the novel.

This was their undercity.

And we had skipped most of it, going straight to where the top brass liked to hide.

I could already feel the magic detectors weakening the moment we stepped off the train. I guessed the society wanted to make sure its strongest members could go all out once an intruder actually made it this far.

“How was the ride?”

“Refreshing~.”

I helped Fiona down from the train, holding her hand as she hopped off. She was clearly ecstatic over that small bit of willing physical contact.

“Y’know, I feel kind of useless this entire trip.”

She said it as we walked away, our guns left behind on the train—they weren’t needed anymore.

“I could train you after this, if you want.”

I said it without looking back at her. And it wasn’t just me being nice; I genuinely wanted to train her. She had good instincts, and she was an S-rank.

She’d probably even give Vivianne a run for her money.

And besides… I’d finally have the complete set of disciples.

One would be a mage-killer diplomat, another a walking nuclear bomb made of darkness, and she would be the street-smart assassin who actually got things done.

Her performance on this trip had been more than satisfactory.

I should probably try to convince Evelina to keep her.

It’s rare to find someone with the potential to become a top killer like her, and she clearly didn’t have the kind of morals that held Vivianne back.

“Y-you mean that!?”

“You betrayed your family to help me. It’s the least I can do.”

She pouted. “Didn’t I tell you not to think too much about that?”

“I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Fine… then my answer is”—she paused for effect—”of course I’d accept being trained by you!”

“Good, let’s talk to Evelina after—”

FWISH!

Huh?

I turned around mid-sentence, already forming the rest of the thought—only to find nothing there.

No Fiona. No hand half-raised in excitement. No playful grin.

Just empty air where she had been standing a heartbeat ago.

The space behind me felt wrong, too wide, too quiet.

The faint warmth that had been following at my back was gone. Her footsteps had stopped: no echo, no shuffle, no delayed gasp.

Just silence, the kind that doesn’t belong in a place filled with humming magic and distant machinery.

I blinked once. Twice.

My brain stalled for a fraction of a second, refusing to process what my eyes were clearly seeing. She had been there. She was there. I was speaking to her.

There hadn’t even been a scream, not even the courtesy of a struggle.

Just—

Erased.

The air where she’d stood seemed colder now, vacant, like someone had cut a piece out of reality and stitched the world back together badly.

My chest tightened, not with fear, but with something sharper, a crack running down the center of my thoughts.

Wait… why am I feeling this way?

[Stupid child.]

The speakers crackled to life.

The sudden noise felt invasive. Obscene.

Like someone laughing at a funeral before the body hit the ground.

[Bringing the traitorous Whitestrake to our headquarters? How naive of you.]

My eyes didn’t move from the empty space.

[You’ve both done well to make it this far, but I’m afraid this will be your final stop.]

…Did they just—

Did they seriously fucking cut into my conversation with my future student?

My jaw clenched slowly.

Too slowly.

Wait… that’s odd, something definitely feels wrong in my head.

[Profaned Prince]

“Bring her back.”

RUMBLE!

The words didn’t feel like they came from my throat. They tore their way out.

The ground cracked beneath my boots. The metal beams above shrieked in protest. The air compressed outward in a violent pulse, dust shaking loose from the ceiling as the entire chamber trembled.

This wasn’t playful dominance.

This wasn’t theatrical.

It was instinct.

Like… a primal fear activated in my body the instant she suddenly disappeared under my protection.

[My, oh my… I didn’t expect that reaction from a D’Arclight dog. Did the girl really make that big of a first impression on you?]

I could hear the voice behind the speakers laughing.

[No matter. You won’t need to worry about her once we’re done with you.]

click!

ZIP! ZIP! ZIP!

The speakers cut off, and in the next instant, I was surrounded. Assassins emerged from every angle, poised to hunt their prey.

Some were clearly expert mages. Some were masters of the blade. Some carried guns, and some even drew bows. A spread of talents, each one a specialist.

All of them here to kill me.

But…

My mind was somewhere else.

Fiona Whitestrake. Gone in the blink of an eye while I was distracted.

[Photographic Memo—ERROR

That’s odd. I swear this felt familiar…

[ERROR]

A weird sense of déjà vu—a mission, a conversation, a turn, then only empty space…and someone missing.

[Photographic Memo—ERROR

“He isn’t moving?”

“Must be thinking about escapes.”

The assassins circled me, closing in like wolves around a rabbit. But something kept gnawing at me.

This wasn’t the first time someone had been taken from me mid‑mission, right under my nose, while I was distracted.

…Was it?

Or was this actually the first time?

That’s… odd.

I can’t seem to remember.

Not just the details—everything. The whole thing feels like it’s been ripped out of my mind.

Everything happened so suddenly…

So why am I reacting like this?

I only met her today. Didn’t I?

S-So why does it feel like I’ve lost someone important?

My vision suddenly blurred, as if some half‑rotted memory was trying to claw its way back to the surface. Regret. A cry. Faces I couldn’t see, voices I couldn’t quite hear. An influx of emotions I couldn’t grab hold of, slipping through my fingers like water.

That’s odd… did I have repressed memories from when I worked as an assassin in my previous life?

My hand clenched without warning. Nails dug into my palm. I only noticed when a sharp sting shot up my arm.

T-The hell’s going on!?

My heart pounded like it was trying to break out of my chest. My breath turned shallow, ragged, as if the air around me had thickened. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer, pressing in on me.

My entire body felt heavy, like my muscles remembered a terror my mind had forgotten. It wasn’t just fear. It wasn’t just dread. It was something deeper, older—an instinctive panic that went far beyond the simple fear of death.

My knees threatened to give out. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t tell if I was still in the present or trapped in someone else’s dying moment—my own, from another life.

Then…

A name…

Trish—ERROR]

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