novelraw Chapter 117: A Promise Beneath the Lamplight
Chapter 117: A Promise Beneath the Lamplight
Chapter 117: A Promise Beneath the Lamplight
Raven slipped back into his room at 1:31 a.m., the air already tense with the metallic taste of danger. He didn’t waste a second. The Past Clone settled onto the bed with its eyes closed, breathing softly like a real sleeper while the illusion of the past wrapped around the room—veiling Raven entirely.
Thirty seconds later, smoke crawled beneath the door like a hungry serpent.
A silhouette formed behind the clone—thin, quiet, predator-fast.
The dagger flashed.
Shing—
The blade met no flesh.
The body shattered into a storm of glass shards, glittering like a dying constellation.
The assassin’s eyes widened.
He never even turned.
A spear ripped through his neck from behind, bursting out the front with a wet crack. The illusion fell apart around them, revealing Raven standing over him, grip tight on the spear shaft as he yanked it free.
The assassin collapsed, disbelief still frozen in his gaze.
Gunfire burst across the building, explosions shook the wooden beams, and screams cut through the night.
Raven changed in a heartbeat—his true face forming, dark surcoat settling over him, bowler hat casting a shadow across his eyes. He stepped into the corridor just as Jacob emerged from the opposite room, rifle in hand and a dead assassin at his feet.
Jacob halted, stiffening. The darkness hid Raven’s face, but the outline alone told him—this was not his lord.
Raven didn’t give him time to think.
“Follow me.”
He strode down the corridor, boots echoing. Jacob obeyed instantly.
They reached the main hall within seconds. Jacob looked around, breath sharp with confusion.
“Aim the rifle at my head,” Raven said, raising a hand toward the entrance.
Jacob didn’t hesitate. He raised the rifle and rested his finger near the trigger.
“When I say ‘Shift,’ you shoot.”
Jacob swallowed but nodded. Thomas’s warning echoed in his skull—hesitation equals death.
Raven took out three vials and downed them in quick succession. Strength. Agility. Insight. Ten minutes of borrowed power. Jacob mirrored him, drinking his own set.
Then they waited.
The silence stretched.
Seconds bled into a minute, while the hallway stayed empty.
No footsteps.
No whisper of crimson eyes.
Raven’s jaw tightened.
‘Something’s wrong.’
The ground shook as a roar split the mansion.
A pillar of fire tore upward, ripping through the roof and staining the night red. The guards near the blast evaporated under the intense heat.
Raven’s gaze shot upward.
An old man with wings of living flame soared into the sky—Solomon Ironford, now blazing like a fallen star as he fled eastward.
Two figures burst from the inferno and landed in the yard—the lady assassin and Instructor Jace.
“That bastard escaped!” The lady assassin spat, her eyes burning with fury.
Jace clicked his tongue. “You should’ve finished him, Millie. Thanks to you, my cover’s blown.”
Her glare could have cut steel. “Don’t use my name outside. And he had three Rank-4 defenses active when I struck. My dagger broke one. Then he unleashed a spell and escaped.”
Jace’s expression darkened. “Emperor Ian will assume there are more spies in the academy. If this goes wrong, Lord Gamma Six’s identity may be exposed.”
She didn’t reply.
“Let’s move, Mi—Delta Five.”
Millie’s gaze snapped toward the Knights’ Quarters. “Not yet. Eyewitnesses.”
Raven cursed under his breath as the assassins blurred into motion.
Fine. If we die, we’re taking at least one of them with us.
He triggered Mind Web.
The world fractured into four layers of thought, each consciousness analyzing angles, positions, distances. Time crawled. Sounds stretched. His brain surged with Expert-level efficiency.
The eyelid on his forehead split open.
A golden vertical eye stared out at the world, sparking with lightning.
A bolt of lightning exploded across the courtyard, crossing the distance in half a millisecond and smashing into Millie’s chest. Her body seized, paralysis freezing her in place.
“Shift.”
In the same instant, reality twisted—
Millie’s body teleporting into Raven’s previous location.
BANG.
The Starflare rifle’s mithril bullet was already between her eyes.
She couldn’t move.
Couldn’t flinch.
Couldn’t think.
The bullet entered her skull like a glowing needle, tore through her brain, and punched out the other side.
It all ended in milliseconds.
Millie staggered, eyes wide and empty, and collapsed.
Raven was already moving as he swapped positions with Millie.
A drop of blood fell from his fingertip. Poison Mist hissed into existence, spreading like a translucent fog. He exhaled cold, summoning Ice Breath toward Jace to slow him—
—but the man moved like a phantom.
Jace appeared beside Millie before her body even hit the ground, catching her gently as she fell.
His eyes went blood-red.
“How dare you?!”
The air warped.
Spirit pressure blasted outward like a hurricane, hurling Raven and Jacob backward. Their boots skidded across the floor, nearly losing footing.
Jace placed Millie on the ground, trembling, and stood.
Raven’s skin crawled. Something primal screamed—run.
A warped blade appeared in Jace’s hand, curved and humming with killing intent.
He flicked his wrist.
Jacob—ten feet away—split cleanly down the middle. No warning. No sound.
He died before he understood what happened.
Raven barely had time to widen his eyes.
Jace’s head turned toward him.
And then—
nothing.
Darkness swallowed him in one clean stroke.
…
Gasp—
Raven’s eyes snapped open.
The wooden ceiling greeted him again.
The flickering candle.
The same damned chair.
The loop had dragged him back.
Zera’s voice slithered out of the void, distorted at first.
[Did you feel any change?]
He didn’t answer.
Not right away.
He pressed a hand over his face, inhaling until the tension in his shoulders eased just enough to think clearly.
Their true target is Solomon.
Everything lined up now—the patterns across the loops, the timing of attacks, the routes the assassins took.
They always go for him first. Only after he dies do they sweep through the others.
But there was one loop that had a different outcome.
When he warned Rowena and others, the assassin didn’t go for Solomon!
His interference rippled outward—pulling assassins off their original path, accelerating their strikes, and making Millie come for him instead of Omega-3.
But even if Raven killed Millie…
Jace was a different nightmare entirely.
Raven’s fingers curled, knuckles whitening.
If I could poison him…
Easier imagined than done.
Zera’s voice fluttered in his mind again.
[What the hell happened, kid? Why are you quiet?]
He exhaled shakily and told her everything from the last loops—the failures, the deaths, the timing adjustments, the moment Jace split Jacob in half, the way Raven’s own head rolled across the ground.
Zera listened in unsettling silence.
Then—
[That’s… indeed troublesome.]
Troublesome?
He almost laughed.
‘Is there any way to kill both Mystic Walkers?’ he asked instead.
Zera scoffed.
[I’m still shocked you killed the woman twice. That was nothing short of a miracle.]
Raven ignored the bitter taste in his mouth.
What about Bloodcrystal Potion? If I poison Jace, will he fall for it?
A beat.
Then—
[It’s worth trying.]
That was enough.
Raven summoned Roland with a whisper of spiritual intent.
“Schedule an appointment with Lady Rowena,” he said. “Tell her it’s urgent.”
After dismissing him, Raven cleared the table and set out his alchemy equipment with careful precision.
Crimson Coagulum Herb.
Ashen Moon Dew.
Void-Salt Powder.
His hands moved steadily, despite the sleeplessness numbing his bones.
He drew blood—his own—without flinching, the scarlet stream collecting in a crystal vial. The cauldron warmed, its flame trembling pale blue.
The herb dissolved first, weaving together ruby threads.
Moon Dew muted the color, dimming it into a translucent haze.
Void-Salt settled the wild resonance, stealing away scent, spiritual trace, everything that made the potion identifiable.
The liquid stilled.
The potion birthed itself in silence.
Raven poured the sparkling-cold fluid into a slender vial.
Invisible.
Deadly.
“Once consumed,” he murmured, “it crystallizes for one hour… then wakes. Slowly. Quietly. It spreads through the body.”
Zera clicked her tongue.
[But how do you plan to make him swallow it?]
Raven didn’t answer.
Footsteps pounded outside.
Roland burst in a breath later.
“Lady Rowena has invited you immediately, My Lord.”
“Good.” Raven waved him off. “Return to your room.”
When the knight left, Raven wrote a brief note, quick and sharp.
“Solis,” he whispered.
The amulet glowed, unraveling into a crystalline owl. She grasped the letter in her talons and glided out the window like moonlight incarnate.
Zera hummed.
[Why Daisy?]
‘Chris won’t obey me blindly,’ Raven replied. ‘Daisy will. She always has.’
[That’s not loyalty. That’s blind, one-sided love.]
He refused to comment.
He headed for Rowena’s mansion, and was received much like in the previous loop—Rowena wary, Elara sharp, Gideon doubtful. After the attendants left, he delivered the same revelation.
Raven then left the mansion by 11:30.
Night pressed against the Nobles’ Street, thick with silence.
He shifted into his true form again—long hair, sharpened features, that closed eyelid marking a quiet threat on his forehead.
He also wore a dark coat and a bowler hat.
After shifting his appearance, Raven slipped out of the mansion and blended into the near-empty main street. Lanterns flickered weakly, bending shadows across the cobblestones. He turned abruptly into a narrow alley choked with darkness and mold, crouched, and pressed a hand to the cold stone.
A subtle ripple pulsed from his ring.
A spatial mark etched itself invisibly into the ground.
His escape route—prepared.
He retraced his steps, moving like a specter back toward Count Magnus’s mansion. One shadow folded into another as he slipped into the courtyard, and beneath the tall tree, someone waited.
A pale figure stood with a trembling lamp.
Daisy.
Her anxious face brightened only by the Aether lamp in her hand, its glow soaking her skin in a soft golden warmth.
Raven leaned his shoulder against the bark without a sound.
“It’s been a while, Daisy.”
She gasped, the lamp nearly slipping from her fingers. Her heartbeat thundered loud enough that he could almost hear it. Her lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came.
Finally—
“We… we were worried,” she murmured.
Raven inclined his head. “Leaving without a word wasn’t ideal. But I didn’t have a choice.”
Her gaze softened, relief loosening her posture, yet her grip on the lamp tightened—as if afraid he would vanish if she blinked.
“Do you trust me, Daisy?” Raven asked.
A fragile smile tugged at her lips, almost hidden under the dim light.
“If not you,” she whispered, “who else?”
Raven breathed out slowly.
“A large-scale assassination will happen tonight,” he said. “A Mystic Walker will lead it. That’s all I can safely reveal.”
Daisy stiffened. If anyone else made such a claim, she would have brushed it off as nonsense.
But this was the Emperor’s son.
“Should I warn my instructor?” she asked.
“No need.” Raven’s tone sharpened. “I already leaked the information… through my junior brother.”
Her eyes widened. Junior brother? Who—?
Then memory struck.
The letter delivered by Thomas Holmes.
“You mean Thomas Holmes?”
Raven nodded.
“He should’ve warned the nobles by now. But even if they’re prepared, they cannot handle these assassins. That’s why I plan to support your instructor against the Mystic.”
Daisy froze.
He came… to help her teacher?
Her thoughts spiraled.
‘Was that why he became a rebel? Did he infiltrate Viser? Was everything a setup?’
The lamp flickered against her trembling fingers.
Raven’s voice snapped her back.
“I need your help, Daisy.”
He placed a vial into her palm. It was cold—almost painfully so, like holding a shard of winter.
“If Instructor Jace and Patriarch Solomon fall, the territory collapses. I want you to slip this into your instructor’s drink. It’s called the Crystal Elixir. Once consumed, it amplifies his physical power and agility for an hour.”
He held her eyes.
“Will you do it?”
Daisy glanced at the vial, then back at him, her breath unsteady.
“Instructor drinks posset before bed,” she said. “If I prepare some… and mix this in… he won’t notice.”
Her hand tightened around the vial.
“I’ll do it.”
Raven allowed himself a brief, relieved breath.
“Say hi to Chris,” he added gently.
Her eyes softened even more. She nodded.
Two guards rounded the far corner, lanterns bobbing as they approached.
“Oh no—the guards.” She lowered her lamp. “Before you go… when can we meet again?”
She turned toward him—
—but he was already gone.
Only the cold breeze under the tree remained.
Daisy pressed her lips together, steadying her heartbeat.
I’m glad he’s safe…
Even if he came only for danger and shadows.
She gathered herself and made her way back toward the mansion.
Meanwhile, Raven flickered into existence inside Solomon’s room. The Patriarch lay wounded, flames of pain flickering across his features. Although Solomon tried to pressure him through his spirit power, Raven remained calm.
He didn’t waste a breath—he placed the armor beside him, handed over the letter, and warned him about the traitor, about Jace.
Then—
He vanished.
A heartbeat later, he reappeared in the dark alley where his spatial mark waited, the night’s cold biting against his coat.
Without looking back, Raven slipped into the shadows, heading for the Knight Quarters.