The sky tore open with light.
A thunderous roar ripped through the forest like a divine heartbeat. From atop a hill descended a creature wrapped in lightning: Thunder, the magical steed of storms, its mane bristling with electricity, hooves striking the air as if the storm itself propelled it. On its back, a young man with a glacial gaze wielded a luminous spear. At his side, a living shadow leapt onto the enemies: Umbra, the black wolf with crimson eyes, sank his fangs into a mage's throat before the man could even scream.
The leader of the assassins felt ice crawl down his spine.—No… this can't be…
—The Douglases! —one of his men shouted.
His breathing grew heavy, every muscle tense. He carried the most delicate mission of his career: assassinate Prince Andrew with zero margin for error, no reinforcements to draw attention. Everything had to be executed with the precision of a surgical strike.
But the first setback came before the attack even began: a B-Delta Oryctes ambushed his swordsmen, reducing ten of his best to nothing in mere seconds. A bad omen.
Now, what descended from the hill was no reinforcement… it was a sentence.
—Damn it… —he spat, teeth clenched.
The Douglases didn't tip the balance—they shattered it.
Every second of delay meant more casualties, more ground lost, more chances that the silence of this night would turn into political noise by dawn. The mission teetered on the edge of collapse.
But retreat was not an option.
Complete the mission, no matter the cost.
Thunder landed with an electric impact that shook the ground. Three assassins lunged at the rider. A flash. A dry crack. They fell, stunned by the discharge.
Albert and Charles reacted with impeccable precision. In a single motion, they drew their swords, crossed steel… and the three bodies rolled to the ground.
Lusian raised his sword. Its blade darkened as if the shadows obeyed his will.
—Albert. Charles… capture them. I need them alive.
What followed was not a battle.
It was a silent, flawlessly orchestrated execution.
Richard watched his opponent stagger as Albert approached with determination. The relationship between the Crown and the Douglases had always been historically ambiguous; many in the court considered them ruthless assassins who operated in secret. Yet the efficiency and precision with which the Douglases eliminated the attackers brought him an unexpected relief. He also noticed that the leader of the assassins had activated a magical device, and his immediate priority was neutralizing it.
Albert spoke to Richard calmly:—Rest, boy. You've done well.
Richard, gasping, replied with gratitude:—Thank you, sir. But this man is still dangerous.
Albert nodded, assessing the situation:—If you have the strength, help me capture him. My lord has questions for him.
Richard agreed and prepared to assist. The assassin, aware that they intended to keep him alive, used the time to envelop his body in wind mana, launching gusts at Albert. Albert blocked every attack with his fire-wrapped sword. After several consecutive strikes, the assassin's right arm was severed, the wound cauterized, stopping the bleeding.
Richard watched in surprise—the imbalance of power was clear. The elder, despite being of the same class, displayed abilities that defied logic.
Albert, with a firm voice, addressed the enemy:—My lord needs you alive, but he never said we'd bring you back intact.
With a swift motion, he cut the assassin's left hand before a wind spell could be cast, grabbed him by the neck, and dragged him toward Lusian.
Meanwhile, Charles faced the Magister-class assassin. The fight was arduous and prolonged; the attacker was exhausted but remained deadly. Ultimately, Charles had no choice but to decapitate him to protect the group, as capturing him was impossible.
When it was over, the forest fell silent. Bodies smoked, and the scent of ozone filled the air.
Richard, panting, approached.—My lord Douglas… you've saved us. —His tone was tense; he hoped not to leave one crisis only to enter another, yet there was respect in his gaze.
Lusian did not respond. He dismounted Thunder and approached the still-living assassin leader.—Umbra, watch him, —he commanded.
The wolf growled and sat beside the prisoner, whose breathing was ragged.
—He's still breathing, —Albert said.—Good, —Lusian replied—. He will continue to do so until he tells me who sent him.
He then turned to Prince Andrew, who watched with a mix of wounded pride and quiet relief. Lusian, severe and proud as any Douglas, would never harm a royal—as long as the royal betrayed no one. Most of the public viewed the Douglases as ruthless assassins, shadows operating in secrecy, loyalty hard to discern. Yet the truth was different: since the kingdom's founding, the Crown and the House of Douglas had worked together. The Crown guided the people into the light, ruling with justice and transparency; the Douglases operated in the shadows, eliminating threats, intrigues, and any danger that could destabilize the realm. Thus, though Andrew was the heir and Lusian his protector, their bond was not only personal loyalty—it was the union of two complementary roles, both vital to the kingdom's survival.
—Your Highness, you are safe. But if you wish to continue living, you must be more careful.
Andrew clenched his fists, relieved the crisis had passed, and silently watched Lusian issue orders to his subordinates.
Lusian knew it was crucial for the king and Crown to learn that the Empire was behind the attacks. He commanded his knights to capture the assassins who dared target the "useless" prince. Albert, Charles, and the rest tried to comply, but the situation was complicated: many attackers were lethal, and Andrew's defense required maximum focus. They had no choice but to eliminate several enemies to protect themselves and the prince, capturing only three.
The smoke of battle still lingered among the trees, mingling with the scent of ozone and blood. Bodies lay motionless, while the cries of captured assassins echoed in the distance. Lusian stepped a few paces from Thunder and looked at Andrew seriously.
—Explain exactly what happened here, —he said, his voice cold but firm, aware every detail could be vital to uncovering the culprits.
Andrew, still recovering from adrenaline, exhaled deeply.—We were ambushed… while fighting a damn mantis, —he replied, voice tense and weary.
Lusian arched an eyebrow, studying the young prince.—Who would have the balls to challenge the "useless" prince this way? —Half reproach, half irony, yet showing concern for the gravity of the situation.
Andrew lowered his gaze, aware of the tension still in the air.—I don't know… but we'll find out soon, —he said, as the cries of the captured assassins reminded him the threat wasn't over.
Lusian nodded slightly, assessing the terrain and the men still standing.—Good. From now on, every move must be calculated. We cannot afford another mistake.
Richard and Albert approached Lusian and Andrew to report that, although they hadn't directly identified the attackers' masterminds, all the assassins seemed to hail from the Empire. Albert explained calmly:—My lord, they were all soldiers of the Empire. We couldn't obtain more information, as many died during interrogation. We did our best to be cautious.
Andrew sighed, rubbing his forehead.—Did you hear the names Alessia Ferrussi or Leonardo?
Richard shook his head.—No, my lord. But it's strange… none responded even to calls for reinforcements. Something doesn't add up.
Suspicion grew in Richard. The assassin's words that "everything was planned" made sense: the Empire was behind the ambush, and the situation was more complex than it seemed.
In the distance, a group of eight knights appeared running, visibly battered, but with the emblem of their loyalty clearly visible. Julian, their leader, stepped forward and tensed upon seeing Lusian. He drew his sword and gave orders, while Albert, Charles, and the Douglases positioned themselves beside him. Thunder and Umbra remained vigilant next to Lusian. Andrew, with firm voice, commanded Julian:
—Stand down! —he said—. Why are you only arriving now?
Julian halted his men with a gesture, though his gaze stayed fixed on Lusian, distrustful. He breathed heavily, covered in dried blood and soot, expression hardened by fatigue. He stepped forward, pounding his chest with a clenched fist.
—We lost five men, my lord… —he said hoarsely—. We defended desperately, and although we wished to heed Your Highness's call, we could not. I apologize for our delay, Your Excellency.
Andrew observed silently for a few seconds, showing no anger, only contained fatigue.—I understand. At least you arrived with those you could save.
Julian lowered his head, ashamed. Lusian, standing behind the prince, crossed his arms and examined him with a barely perceptible grimace.
—Five casualties… and they came in groups of thirteen, —he commented coldly—. This was no simple ambush, was it?
Julian shook his head.—No, Your Majesty. The attackers knew our route. They awaited us with magical traps and summoned beasts. When we thought all was lost, they suddenly withdrew. It was… strange.
Andrew narrowed his eyes.—They withdrew? Without apparent reason?
—Yes, my lord, —Julian said, hesitating—. It seemed as if they had received new orders… or their objective had changed.
Andrew nodded slowly, glancing at Lusian.—That means they didn't just want to kill me. They wanted me dead here, without witnesses or traces to expose them.
Lusian remained motionless, expression unreadable.
Andrew exhaled shortly, with a tense smile that failed to reach his eyes.—Very well… then I have no choice but to return, —he said, looking at Lusian—. I need you to accompany me to the edge of the forest. My men… are not enough to protect me.
Lusian watched silently, expression unyielding.—Forget it, —he replied coldly.
Andrew frowned, insisting:—Please… do it for my sister. I can't risk another attack.
Lusian turned slightly, showing disdain.—How annoying.
The prince said nothing. He followed in silence, aware he must rely on him, even if Lusian made it clear he owed nothing. The hoofbeats of Thunder and the footsteps of Umbra marked the path through the trees as the forest slowly returned to calm.