The carriage door creaked open.
Lucifer stepped out slowly, the wind tugging at his white shirt and sweeping through his long, raven-black hair like a silken banner. His silver eyes gleamed under the cold daylight, calm yet sharp—like polished steel before a bloodbath.
Without hesitation, he released his aura of Initial 1st Stage, True Starlet Realm.
A visible ripple in space distorted around him. Though not overwhelming in magnitude, his presence exuded something deeper… darker. It was like standing before a bottomless abyss.
From his waist, he drew his weapon—a short, curved dagger made of a black, glass-like metal that shimmered ominously. Intricate etchings ran along its edge, pulsing faintly as if the blade itself breathed.
Behind him, Serenya, Dennis, and Marcellus leapt out one after another, eyes resolute despite the terror clawing at their nerves. They stood beside Lucifer without hesitation.
Serenya's spear gleamed with flowing starlight.
Marcellus drew his broadsword with a heavy breath.
Dennis summoned his twin crescent blades, but his inner thoughts were far from noble.
"Heh… so they've come for you, Lucifer? Let's see how your arrogance saves you now. No way he walks out of this alive."
Despite his inner glee, Dennis kept his expression tense, appearing like a loyal cousin ready to fight. A perfect mask.
But the black-robed assassins didn't wait.
All three launched their attacks at once, merciless, precise, and fatal.
"Demonic Fire Petal!"
The first assassin swept his hand outward, and a crimson lotus of searing flame spiraled toward Lucifer. Each petal split in midair, igniting into dozens of curved blades of molten fire—enough to incinerate a city square.
"Poison Heart Illusion!"
The second formed a strange mudra with her fingers. A wave of violet mist surged forth, laced with soul-burning toxins and illusory distortions. Within it, countless shadowy tendrils writhed—each one whispering madness and death.
"Frost Dragon Palm!"
The third assassin slammed his palm forward. A massive spectral dragon, carved from pure frost and spiritual force, erupted from his hand—its roar shaking the earth. Fangs bared, eyes glowing, it charged like a glacier set aflame.
"Tch—!"
Lucifer's eyes narrowed as the three devastating attacks closed in.
He moved like lightning—ducking, spinning, trying to evade but they had coordinated perfectly. Each technique cut off his path of retreat. His dagger lashed out to block one of the flame petals—CLANG!
But the impact hurled him back several meters.
"Lucifer!!" Serenya screamed, dashing forward.
"Stay back!" he growled, catching himself mid-fall. But the blast of Poison Heart Illusion struck the ground in front of him—sending waves of purple fog that blurred the air itself.
His vision flickered. His soul wavered.
"Shit..."
The Frost Dragon Palm slammed into him a moment later, ice coiling around his ribs as a thunderous boom echoed through the courtyard. Lucifer crashed into a pillar beside the road, the stone shattering on impact.
Blood spilled from his lip.
"ENOUGH!"
Before the assassins could press forward, a roar exploded across the battlefield. A storm of force slammed down from the sky.
Darian Aurelia and Elder Hester appeared in a blink, their weapons gleaming with spiritual radiance.
"Raging Flame Slash!"
"Golden Void Spiral!"
Darian's sword unleashed a torrent of golden fire shaped like a crescent wave, crashing into the Demonic Fire Petals and incinerating them mid-air.
Hester's palm spun outward, sending a spiraling burst of glowing starflow into the Poison Heart fog, dispelling it like wind through mist.
BOOM!
The shockwaves collided, creating a crater of shattered stone and scorched earth. The assassins were forced to back off, the coordinated momentum broken.
But the next moment a thundering sound cut across the air like a war horn.
CLANG!
Commander Garrick landed between Lucifer and the assassins with a godlike presence. His crimson cloak snapped in the wind as he brandished a colossal dual-edged glaive, its edge carved with royal military seals.
With a single slash, the Frost Dragon Specter was cleaved in two. Shattering like broken glass into shards of icy starflow.
"Do you have a death wish?! You dare touch someone in front of me?!" Garrick's roar held battlefield command. "You think the Rainey Royal Family will forgive this transgression?!"
But the assassins didn't answer.
The one who had first spoken simply smiled from behind the mask.
"No need for threats, commander. We were told… to leave no witnesses if interrupted."
He snapped his fingers.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!
Explosions detonated in the nearby cliffs, and dozens of shadowy figures appeared across the ridges, dressed in identical black robes. Their auras lit up one after another at the peak of the 7th-stage True Starlet Realm.
Night Reapers…! Darian's face paled.
Lucifer groaned, his body aching from the earlier blast, but he stood tall. His dagger dripped blood—some his own, some not.
He wiped the corner of his mouth.
A cold grin formed. "So… a full assassination trio, huh?"
His silver eyes flared with eerie light. "You should've brought more."
And then, the earth trembled once more.
A low hum pulsed through the air, like the resonance of some ancient, slumbering behemoth and it was coming from deep within Lucifer's lower abdomen.
The black vortex emerged again.
It wasn't just energy anymore—it was an abyss. A spiraling void of annihilation that threatened to devour all things: light, spirit, even time.
His silver eyes, once calm now turned pitch black, like twin galaxies consumed by a collapsing star.
Endless. Silent. Horrifying.
Lucifer stood slowly, wiping the blood from the corner of his lips with an indifferent flick.
He no longer looked like a mortal cultivator.
He looked like something else.
Something wrong.
The three masked assassins felt it instantly.
"What… is that pressure?!"
Their instincts screamed to retreat, but when they locked eyes with Lucifer, their entire world froze.
Their limbs went numb. Their blood stopped circulating. Their hearts pounded, yet refused to beat the next second.
"We can't move—!"
Even seasoned killers as them who'd slain beasts and kings felt their knees buckle.
It was as if the air itself had crystallized around them, freezing them in time like insects caught in amber.
Lucifer stepped forward.
One slow step at a time.
His expression was blank. Soulless. As though possessed by something unfathomable. Or perhaps… something ancient had simply awakened within him.
In a blink, he stood before the first assassin.
He raised his black dagger—SHLIK.
A clean slice.
The man's head fell to the earth, a look of horror still frozen on his face.
The second assassin's eyes trembled. "No, don't—!"
SHLIK.
Another head rolled.
The third didn't even have time to scream.
SHLIK. Blood sprayed in arcs.
One by one, they fell… like broken puppets before a god.
Their blood soaked the soil, the scent thick and iron-rich. The very ground beneath them seemed to sizzle, as if it rejected the sacrilege it now bore.
The world held its breath.
Everyone watching the situation unfold before them… Commander Garrick, Darian Aurelia, Elder Hester, Serenya, Dennis, Marcellus stood paralyzed.
They didn't understand what they had just witnessed.
Then Elder Hester, mustering his courage, whispered, "L-Lucifer… what's… what's wrong with you?"
But Lucifer didn't answer.
He turned slowly, eyes black as the void itself.
And when their eyes met his… Their vision went white.
THUMP!
One by one, they collapsed.
Lucifer's gaze alone had broken their minds. There was no roar, no explosion. Just… silence. And then unconsciousness.
He walked back, expression still hollow, and knelt down where he had first stood.
Then, he collapsed.
His body hit the ground with a dull thud, eyes closing at last. The vortex inside his body slowly quieted—like a beast returning to slumber after feeding.
Time passed…
The wind carried away the scent of blood. Crows circled in the far distance, yet dared not descend.
Eventually, Commander Garrick stirred, blinking into the gray sky. His brows furrowed as he realized he was lying on the ground.
"What… happened?"
Beside him, one of the royal guards lay unconscious. Nearby, Darian and Hester also began to wake.
"Ugh… why are we… lying here?" Darian groaned, pushing himself up.
Hester sat up as well, blinking in confusion. "I… don't remember…"
Their eyes scanned the battlefield and then stopped.
There, in the distance, lay the three black-robed corpses, blood still fresh… but every one of them headless.
The soil was painted in gore. The trees nearby were charred, frozen, or twisted.
No one remembered what had happened. Not a single image.
Just… darkness.
Elder Hester's lips trembled. "Why are these bodies… headless?"
His voice cracked. "What just happened here…?"
But none of them had an answer.
Garrick and Darian exchanged a silent glance.
This place wasn't safe anymore.
Without a word, Darian and Hester swiftly lifted the unconscious youths into the carriage. Hester took the reins, snapping them with urgency as the horses galloped toward the royal capital. Garrick rode ahead, his expression grim, eyes scanning every shadow along the road.
The air remained unnaturally cold and thick with a lingering pressure that made even seasoned warriors sweat beneath their armor.
Meanwhile…
Far away in a grand hall draped in obsidian velvet and gold embroidery, a single figure knelt on one knee. Clad in black from head to toe, the man kept his gaze lowered, posture reverent before the tall window where a silhouette stood bathed in moonlight.
"Reporting to Master," the man said, his voice calm yet strained. "The three Night Reapers we dispatched… their Life Crystals have shattered."
A long silence followed.
"They're dead," the man added quietly.
The figure by the window didn't turn. His features were handsome and youthful, no older than thirty remained hidden in the shadow. Only the faint reflection in the glass hinted at the cold sharpness of his eyes.
"They were assigned by White-Rank Night Velmira," the man continued. "The target… was a boy named Lucifer. A mere first-stage cultivator of the True Starlet Realm."
The man's voice faltered slightly.
"But all three Reapers have perished."
A sharp glint flared in the eyes of the man at the window.
"…Velmira," he finally said, his voice low and measured. "Still playing her games in the Aurelia Clan, disguised as Nyra Aurelia."
He turned slightly, just enough for the moonlight to catch the jagged scar on his neck.
"Has she found the artifact?"
"No, Master," the kneeling man responded immediately. "Our latest intelligence indicates she's still searching."
"Yet she dared mobilize Night Reapers to eliminate a mere boy… and lost them all?"
The temperature in the room dropped. The kneeling man swallowed, sweat beading on his brow. "Yes, Master."
The man at the window let out a faint breath, not a sigh… more like the whisper of a coming storm.
"…Interesting."
He turned slightly, eyes narrowing. "Send a message to Velmira. Tell her to return within one month—she's proven useless."
A pause lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken intent.
"This time, you will personally infiltrate the Aurelia Clan. Find the artifact... and observe the boy named Lucifer. I want to know what secret he's hiding."
But before the kneeling man could respond, the double doors creaked open.
A young girl, around fifteen years old, walked into the hall with light steps. Her long brown hair flowed down her back, and her black eyes sparkled like onyx under sunlight. Though her face still carried youthful softness, her presence was anything but ordinary.
There was a subtle pressure around her, calm yet terrifying aura concealed beneath her charm. She was in the early stage of the Infernal Lord Realm, a monstrous level of cultivation for someone her age.
At that level, she could easily crush someone like Lucifer, who was merely at the first stage of the True Starlet Realm.
"Dad!" she said brightly, hurrying over and tugging at his sleeve. "I want to go too! It's been forever since I got to explore anything interesting."
The man glanced at her and sighed, rubbing her head gently. "You little troublemaker, always nosing into things... You can't go. This mission is dangerous!"
Vivian, his only daughter, puffed her cheeks and pouted. With an exaggerated sniffle, she squeezed out a few fake tears.
He exhaled in defeat. "Alright, alright. You can go. But listen carefully no mischief, and no trouble. Understood?"
She instantly brightened like sunlight through clouds.
He turned to the kneeling man. "You'll depart now. And protect Vivian at all costs."
"Yes, Master," the man replied, bowing deeply.
Meanwhile, back in the Aurelia Clan's carriage…
The four unconscious youths began to stir. They groaned softly, blinking in confusion as they sat up. Their memories were hazy—none of them could recall what had happened after entering the forest.
By the time they fully came to their senses, the carriage had already passed through the outer gates of the Royal Capital.
Unlike the towering cities of the central continents, this place was quieter—stone walls aged with moss, narrow roads winding between squat buildings, and a few patrolling guards riding low-grade beast mounts. Yet for the people of Rainey, this was still the seat of their power.
Soon, the carriage stopped at the Royal Palace courtyard.
Several other clans and minor noble families were already present. Youths stood in small groups, some in training robes, others in light armor, each clearly a chosen candidate for some event. The air buzzed with soft conversations, hushed whispers, and subtle glances of competition.
At the front of each group stood clan leaders or elders, their expressions calm yet vigilant.
The four young members of the Aurelia Clan climbed down and quietly joined their clan's ranks. The moment they appeared, murmurs began to rise from other groups nearby.
"They're finally here?"
"Tch. Showing up this late… how typical of the Aurelia brats."
"Probably overslept in their fancy carriage."
"Hmph, acting all mysterious like they're something special."
But just as the whispers began to grow, a sharp voice rang out from the front of the courtyard.
"All rise! His Majesty approaches!"
The idle chatter died instantly as everyone turned toward the royal steps.
A man in his late fifties walked out, draped in a deep violet robe lined with golden trim. Though the Rainey Kingdom was small, King Acrylic held a calm authority that silenced even the proudest elders.
As he stepped forward, all present bowed or saluted in unison.
"We greet His Highness, King Acrylic!"
King Acrylic raised his hand slightly and gave a faint smile. "No need for lengthy formalities today. Let's get straight to the point."
He paused briefly, letting the silence settle.
"The Blazing Sky Institute will be dispatching an envoy to recruit young talents."
A sudden wave of murmurs swept the gathering again, this time filled with awe and anticipation.
Blazing Sky Institute was a renowned cultivation academy located deep within the western continent. Even a minor recommendation from them could change a youth's fate forever.
King Acrylic continued, his tone steady, "They won't be coming here. Instead, they'll arrive at the neighboring Purple Kingdom."
His expression sharpened slightly. "That is why I've summoned you all so quickly. We depart today. It will take us nearly two weeks to reach the capital of Purple Kingdom. Prepare yourselves accordingly."
Gasps and stiffened postures followed. The stakes had just changed.
Tension soared. But none knew…
That in the shadows of Purple Kingdom, something far worse than assassins… awaited.