The assassin Arthur had struck, groaned as he slowly pushed himself off the ground. His body trembled from the force of the earlier impact, but his movements were still controlled. Without a word, he reached into his belt, retrieving a small glass vial filled with a blue liquid.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. ‘A healing potion.’

The injured assassin popped the cork and downed the liquid in one swift motion. The effect was visible as the assassin recovered from his injuries, and his breath steadied. His partner, the wind mage, silently met his gaze.

A subtle nod passed between them.

The wind mage raised a hand, his fingers moving in intricate patterns. The air around him thickened, the temperature subtly dropping as mana surged through the atmosphere. A moment later, a whirlwind formed around him, growing in size and intensity.

Then, the second assassin flickered – no, he vanished from his position.

Arthur’s instincts screamed at him. His eyes darted around, but the man was gone, completely melting into the darkness. The assassin had a shadow affinity. And his abilities were rare and dangerous. He can meld with shadows making him one of the deadliest assassin types.

Arthur knew this wouldn’t be a straightforward fight.

The wind mage finished his incantation and slashed his arm downward. “Gale Barrage.”

A dozen crescent-shaped wind blades shot toward Arthur at terrifying speeds, whistling through the air with deadly precision. Each one was razor-sharp, capable of slicing through steel easily.

Arthur reacted instantly. He twisted his body, weaving between the incoming attacks with precise footwork. A few blades came dangerously close, cutting through the hem of his academy uniform. One of them even nicked his cheek, causing a white mark to appear on his skin which disappeared instantly.

And then…

Clang!

Arthur’s eyes widened as he felt the unmistakable bite of a dagger striking his sides. It didn’t cause him any injuries, but it was enough to make him cautious.

‘Where did that come from?’ He twisted sharply, but there was no one there. 

The assassin had already melted back into the shadows. After striking Arthur the shadow assassin narrowed his eyes, ‘Is he wearing an armor underneath his clothes’. He thought as he felt his dagger bouncing off of Arthur’s side.

From the distance, the wind mage smirked. He didn’t pause, he raised his hand again. “Storm Lance.”

A condensed spear of wind materialized before him and shot toward Arthur like a bolt of lightning.

Arthur barely had time to react. He ducked, but the force of the attack was immense. It grazed his shoulder, sending him skidding back.

Arthur gritted his teeth. He had barely regained his footing when another stab found its mark. It just left a small nick which healed in an instant, but the pattern was clear.

‘He’s attacking the moment my focus is on the wind mage.’

The onlookers hidden in the distance murmured amongst themselves.

One of them, a wiry mage with a keen eye, adjusted his monocle. “He’s… getting pushed back?”

A burly mercenary snorted. “Of course, he is. That assassin’s wind blades are quite powerful, and the one hiding in the shadow keeps landing hits. Kid’s tough, but he’s outmatched.”

Alistair Vayne, the 9th-circle mage, leaned forward slightly from his observation spot. His eyes gleamed with curiosity. “No, something doesn’t add up.”

His disciple looked at him. “Master?”

Alistair tapped his fingers together. “The kid is being hit by the attacks of two 5th Circle Mages, but… he’s not bleeding at all as he should be.”

The disciple frowned. “Master…are you saying he has a defensive artifact?”

Alistair’s gaze darkened. “No. I’ve been watching closely. He’s not using any artifact or using Chi either for defense, and yet, he’s withstanding attacks that should be cutting through him like paper.”

His words sent a ripple through the other observers.

“You mean…?”

Alistair nodded. “Either he has an unnatural body… or something even stranger is at play.”

Back in the battlefield, Arthur exhaled sharply, analyzing the situation.

The shadow assassin struck the moment Arthur lost sight of him. He was impossible to track through conventional means.

‘Then I need to try something unconventional’

Arthur’s lips curled into a smirk.

He closed his eyes.

The wind mage’s expression shifted in confusion. “Giving up?”

Arthur didn’t respond. Instead, he had already activated ‘Map’.

And suddenly, he saw everything around him.

The battlefield unfolded before him like a detailed layout. The wind mage stood in front of him, preparing another spell. And the shadow assassin…

Arthur turned his head slightly.

‘There.’

The assassin was right behind him, emerging from the ground like a wraith, his dagger aimed for Arthur’s neck.

Arthur moved.

Before the assassin could react, Arthur spun around and caught his wrist mid-strike.

The assassin’s eyes widened in shock. ‘How did he notice me?!’

Arthur didn’t hesitate. He twisted the assassin’s arm with a brutal snap.

Crack!

“Arggghhhhh…!!”

A wail full of pain erupted from the assassin’s lips as his dagger clattered to the ground.

Arthur then drove his knee into his gut. The impact sent the assassin flying back, crashing into the dirt with a heavy thud.

The wind mage’s face contorted in anger. “You…!”

Arthur didn’t let him finish. He blurred forward, closing the distance in an instant. The wind mage barely managed to raise a wind barrier, but Arthur’s fist shattered it like glass.

His next strike landed directly on the wind mage’s sternum. The force sent the mage sprawling backward, coughing violently.

Silence.

The onlookers were frozen.

The wiry mage adjusted his monocle, his hands slightly trembling. “That… how did he move that fast?”

The burly mercenary swallowed hard. “It wasn’t just his speed. It’s like he knew where the assassin was before he even appeared.”

Alistair Vayne watched Arthur with renewed interest. A slow smile formed on his lips. “Fascinating…”

Back on the battlefield, Arthur stood over his fallen opponents, cracking his knuckles. His gaze was calm, his posture relaxed, like he hadn’t just fought two highly trained assassins.

He exhaled. “That was fun.”

The wind mage groaned, trying to push himself up. The shadow assassin, his arm hanging limply, glared at Arthur in silent fury.

Arthur tilted his head. “Wanna go again?”

Neither of them moved.

Arthur smirked. “Thought so.”

Arthur’s smirk faded, his eyes darkening as he gazed at the two assassins. He took a slow step forward, his presence alone suffocating. 

“But do you think I’ll let you go after you tried to kill me?”

His voice was cold, devoid of mercy.

The two assassins stiffened. They were aware of the risks of one single failed mission and knew their lives could be over in their line of work and have steeled themselves for failure. But knowing they could die and facing the reality of their impending deaths were two entirely different things. A chill ran down their spines, not from the night air, but from the gaze of the man before them.

The wind mage clenched his teeth, his mind racing. ‘I need to…’

Boom!

A shockwave exploded from Arthur’s position. In an instant, he vanished, the sheer force of his speed tearing through the air like a thunderclap. The wind mage barely had time to widen his eyes before.

Schlck!

Time seemed to freeze.

The mage felt something. A strange weightlessness, followed by an eerie sensation of detachment. He tried to breathe… but there was no air. His vision blurred, his surroundings tilting unnaturally.

Then, realization struck him.

He wasn’t standing anymore.

He gazed upwards, and his own headless body came into view. The sight was surreal, his arms still outstretched, mana swirling faintly around his fingers as if he were still preparing to cast a spell.

Thud.

His severed head hit the ground, his mind shrouded in stunned horror. ‘So fast… I didn’t even feel it.’

Darkness took him before he could regret anything further.

Arthur stood amidst the falling blood, his sword humming with the remnants of his strike. His expression remained impassive, his eyes gleaming under the moonlight.

Though he had killed before, but this is his first time killing a human and it does not feel good to take the life of one, but he forced down his disgust and turned towards the other assassin.

The lone remaining assassin, his arm still useless from Arthur’s earlier attack, had already vanished.

Arthur’s lips curled slightly. “Wow you didn’t even look back at your dead comrade?”

The assassin moved like a wraith, slipping through the darkness, seamlessly merging with the shadows. He darted through the trees, his mind screaming at him to escape.

‘I have to get out. I have to get out and inform the lord…’

He forced himself to keep moving, his breath ragged. He reached into his belt, fumbling for a smoke bomb…

He felt a presence behind him and before he could react.

Schlck!

The assassin froze, his body stiffening as a cold, piercing sensation bloomed in his chest. He tried to move, but his limbs no longer responded. Slowly, he looked down.

A bloody sword jutted from his chest, its metallic blade gleaming under the dim light.

The assassin trembled, his mouth opening and closing as blood dripped from his lips. His fingers twitched, attempting to grasp at the blade impaling him.

Behind him, Arthur leaned in close, his voice calm.

“You should’ve run faster.”

With a sharp twist, Arthur ripped the sword free.

The assassin lurched forward, collapsing to his knees. A choked breath escaped him as his life slipped away, the world around him darkening. His vision blurred, the last thing he saw being the cold, merciless gaze of the man who had ended him.

Then, silence.

Arthur exhaled, flicking the blood off his blade in one swift motion. The scent of iron filled the air as the blood splattered onto the ground.

The fight was over.

From the distant shadows, the hidden onlookers who had been observing the battle remained frozen. Some turned pale, others swallowed hard. Even the burly mercenary, who had been so confident earlier, was now visibly shaken.

“…Damn,” one whispered.

Alistair Vayne, however, simply smiled, his eyes gleaming with fascination.

“Interesting.”

***

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