novelraw Chapter 113: The Looming Danger
Chapter 113: The Looming Danger
Chapter 113: The Looming Danger
[What happened, kid? Are you alright?]
Zera’s voice echoed inside Raven’s mind, laced with concern.
Raven’s breath came out shallow as he steadied his trembling hand. Seven strange black lines pulsed faintly on his left wrist like living ink.
“It’s… a time loop spell,” he said at last, his tone low and heavy.
Zera went silent for a long moment before asking in a grave tone,
[How many times did you die?]
Raven’s eyes widened at the question, but he didn’t try to hide it. “This is my third death.”
[How many lines were there before your first death?]
“The same. Seven. Why?” he asked, frowning.
[If your death doesn’t change the number of lines, then they’re not tied to your lives. It must be something else. Tell me, how did you die?] Zera asked.
Raven’s throat tightened. “An assassination. Someone— a woman— appeared out of nowhere. She waved her hand, and I was… torn apart instantly.”
Zera’s voice dropped an octave.
[A Mystic Walker, most likely. Or at least half a step into Mystic Realm.]
Even remembering that moment sent a chill down Raven’s spine. Her speed, her silence, her eerie precision — it was inhuman.
[So, what’s your plan?] Zera asked.
Raven didn’t answer immediately. He pushed himself up, exhaled deeply, and walked out of his room.
He stopped before Jacob’s door and knocked twice.
Knock! Knock!
The door creaked open. Roland stood there, his hands shaking slightly, eyes wide. “M-My lord?”
Without a word, Raven brushed past him and stepped inside. Jacob sat up in his bed, startled. “My Lord? What brings you here at this hour?”
Raven sat quietly on Roland’s bed, his expression grim. “It might sound absurd, but assassins will attack the quarters and the Count’s mansion tonight.”
Jacob’s brows furrowed. “Assassins?”
Roland froze, whispering, “Are you certain, My Lord?”
Raven tilted his head slightly. “You believe me?”
Jacob gave a short laugh. “If we don’t believe you after all the miracles we’ve seen, then we don’t deserve to call ourselves your knights.”
Roland nodded firmly. “That must be why I felt something was off about this mission.”
Jacob leaned forward. “What should we do then? Warn Count Magnus?”
Raven shook his head. “They won’t believe us. And if they suspect us of spreading false rumors, we’ll be the ones imprisoned. We need some trusted allies.”
Roland asked solemnly. “Tell us what we’re facing, My Lord.”
Raven’s gaze hardened. “Dozens of assassins, maybe more. A few Rank-3s and one close to Rank-4 — the leader. They use codenames like Omega Three, Theta Seven, and so on.”
Roland muttered, “Those sound like some kind of organisation’s member names.”
Jacob’s expression darkened. “Even one Expert-rank assassin is dangerous. Facing a group of them? It’s suicide.”
Raven silently agreed. “That’s why we’ll prepare — not fight recklessly.”
He turned to Roland. “Go to Lady Rowena’s and Lady Elara’s mansions. Tell them I need to meet both immediately. It’s urgent.”
Roland nodded and rushed out without another word.
[What are you planning, lad?] Zera asked softly in his mind.
‘Assassins are deadliest when unseen,’ Raven replied. ‘If we expose their presence, their advantage disappears. But taking down someone who is likely to be a Rank-4 alone? Impossible.’
[Wise,] Zera murmured.
Raven looked at Jacob. “Gather the others.”
Within minutes, a group of young knights filled the room. All stood at attention, confusion and tension clear in their eyes.
“I won’t waste time,” Raven began. “Assassins have infiltrated the city and plan to strike tonight. To stop them, I’ll need your cooperation.”
“Yes, My Lord!” they answered in unison, kneeling on one knee.
Raven waved his hand, taking out several glass vials. “Each of you, take these three potions together at exactly 1:29 a.m. Stay quiet in your rooms. The assassins will strike after 1:30. Kill them the moment they enter.”
He distributed the vials with precision and authority.
“What should we do after killing the assassins, My Lord?” Fiona asked.
“Stay hidden in your rooms. Once the potion effects are down, you won’t be able to move your bodies for an hour or two. Stay hidden until then.” Raven paused for a moment and then added coldly.
“Do not underestimate the assassins. A single mistake might cost your life.”
The knights saluted while nodding stiffly and left to prepare.
Once they were gone, Jacob asked, “Why send them back alone? Wouldn’t it be safer together?”
Raven shook his head. “They’re targeting each room separately. They know our strengths. The one after you is an Expert-rank assassin, and the one after me—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“The one came after you?” Jacob asked suspiciously.
Raven coughed lightly. “I meant the one who will come. Anyways, it seems more like they knew about us.”
Jacob’s eyes flashed.
“Someone leaked the information?”
Raven nodded.
Just then, Roland returned, panting. “Lady Rowena said you can meet her at once. Lady Elara and Baron Gideon are with her, My Lord. Third mansion on the right side.”
“That makes things easier.” Raven took out three thicker vials and handed them to Jacob. “Drink these before battle.”
Jacob turned them in his hands. “What are these?”
“Strength Potion, Agility Potion, and Potion of Clairvoyance.”
“Clairvoyance?” Jacob repeated. “Never heard of that one.”
“It heightens your sixth sense,” Raven said as he walked to the door. “Combined, they’ll raise your power to an Advanced Expert for a short time. Use it wisely.”
Raven left the quarters and strode down the moonlit street. The night air was cold, carrying whispers of unease through Gearford City. By the time he reached the third mansion on the right, his instincts were already alert — eyes scanning, footsteps measured.
The guards recognized him immediately and opened the gate.
Inside the mansion, the hall was softly lit with oil lamps. Viscountess Rowena sat elegantly in her armchair, Baroness Elara beside her, and Baron Gideon sipping wine. Their conversation stopped the moment they saw him.
“So even Young Lady Daisy joined the frontlines, hmm?” Gideon mused, then smiled. “Ah, look who’s here. The young lord of the Azmar.”
“Greetings, Lady Rowena. Greetings, Lady Elara. Lord Gideon.” Raven bowed respectfully.
“Please, sit,” Gideon said with a booming laugh, gesturing to the seat beside him.
“So, what brings you here at this hour, Mr Holmes?” Rowena asked, eyes sharp. “Your knight was shouting something about assassins. Care to explain?”
Raven’s gaze swept around the hall — too many maids, too many guards. He couldn’t risk this information spreading.
“My Lady,” he said calmly, “please ask your attendants to wait outside.”
Rowena frowned slightly but complied. “You’re an odd one, Thomas Holmes,” she sighed. “But fine.”
Once the hall was empty, Raven stood again, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed deeply.
“I greet you again, Lady Rowena, Lady Elara, Lord Gideon. But not as the head of House Holmes…”
He raised his head, his voice steady and solemn.
“…but as a vassal of Raven Sillalus Jorvet.”
A stunned silence fell over the hall. The three nobles exchanged bewildered glances. Even the flickering candlelight seemed to pause.
“Come again?” Rowena asked slowly, disbelief etched on her face.
“You must have noticed I have been receiving funds from someone, My Lady.”
Raven’s tone was calm, but his eyes carried a glint of restrained gravity. “The reason I achieved this much in a short period of time and even reclaimed the lost territory is due to the grace of His Highness Raven.”
Baroness Elara’s expression stiffened for a moment. She leaned back in her chair and exhaled deeply.
“Rebel Prince, huh?” she murmured, her gaze flicking toward the candlelight that danced across the room. “I’ve been wondering how you managed to create the Battleplate Armor at such a young age and even got enough funds to construct roads and city walls. So this was your secret all along?”
She nodded, a faint understanding dawning in her sharp eyes.
Gideon, who stood beside her, crossed his arms and spoke with a low hum.
“So, what does it have to do with our current situation?”
Raven took a deep breath before answering. “His Highness sent me important information a while ago through our secret communication method.”
He paused deliberately, letting the tension settle in the room before continuing.
“He said that a squad of enemy assassins will attack the mansion around midnight. Although he didn’t reveal their targets, he warned that their leader is a formidable assassin—one capable of slaughtering a group of Expert Walkers in a blink.”
“Mystic Assassin?” Rowena’s voice trembled in disbelief.
“But how can we trust your words, Mr Holmes?” Gideon interjected, suspicion flashing in his eyes. “You suddenly appeared, claimed to be a vassal of the Rebel Prince, and now you’re telling us about assassins? Forgive me, but it sounds far-fetched.”
Elara’s gaze hardened as she folded her arms. “We also don’t know if the Rebel Prince is truly on the Empire’s side. After all, Emperor Ian hasn’t withdrawn the bounty on his head yet. Though it’s an unofficial bounty, it still matters.”
“Still…” Rowena spoke up, her tone pragmatic. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
She rose from her seat. “I’ll alert the Spade Knight Squads and inform Count Magnus to tighten his security.”
“Then, I’ll go and warn my knights as well,” Baroness Elara added, standing with a determined look.
Gideon turned his attention to Raven, his voice firm.
“It’s better for you to return to your quarters, Mr Holmes. This matter isn’t something a Knight Household can handle directly.”
Raven inclined his head respectfully. He knew when to retreat. “Understood,” he said softly.
After bidding farewell to the three nobles, Raven left the mansion and walked through the moonlit corridor. The cold night air brushed his hair as he made his way to the Knights’ Quarters. By the time he reached his room, the clock had struck 11:30 P.M.
He sat on the edge of his bed, hands resting loosely on his knees, eyes staring blankly at the flickering candle on the table.
‘I did everything I could,’ he thought, his lips tightening into a thin line.
The silence of the night stretched endlessly.
Minutes turned into hours. The hands of the clock crawled toward 1:25 A.M.
Every second felt heavier, pressing against his chest.
Finally, 1:30 A.M.
Raven inhaled deeply and prepared to cast the Elapsed Illusion spell—
But froze.
The wooden door before him creaked open. Slowly. Deliberately.
A shadow slipped into the dim room.
A young woman stepped forward, clad in tight black garments—shirt, trousers, and gloves that hugged her figure like a second skin. A black mask covered the lower half of her face, and a silver circlet rested upon her brow, engraved with the symbol of a vertical eye.
Her crimson eyes glimmered with eerie brilliance, reflecting the candlelight like two drops of blood. Her red hair fluttered faintly as the cold air drifted in from behind her.
Raven’s blood ran cold.
That face—those eyes—
It was her.
The same assassin who had killed him before.
“F–f*ck!” he hissed under his breath, his heart hammering in panic.
Before he could move, she vanished—like smoke swept by the wind.
In the next instant, she was behind him.
Raven barely turned before a chill sensation spread through his body. He felt his limbs give way, his sight trembling as countless invisible blades tore through him like paper.
He didn’t even feel pain—only the sudden, weightless stillness that followed.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Raven died for the fourth time.
…