Chapter 97: The Shadow War Begins
"Robert..." she whispered, her hazel eyes fluttering shut as my lips brushed the sensitive skin of her neck.
"It’s Grik now," I growled softly, my voice dropping an octave.
"And Grik doesn’t just hold the won he loves. He claims them."
She let out a soft, shuddering moan, her hands sliding up into my dark hair. She arched her back slightly, pressing her hips closer to mine in a completely instinctual, desperate reaction.
I was just about to pull her into a bruising kiss when my vision violently exploded.
BZZZZT!
A blinding red system interface shattered the romantic haze, accompanied by a blaring, silent klaxon in my mind.
---
[CRITICAL ALERT: Periter Breach Detected.]
[Warning: Five hostile, heavily masked magical signatures have crossed the boundaries of the Obsidian Bungalow. Threat Level: High.]
---
The lust evaporated instantly. My core snapped from primal heat to cold, calculated violence. I stepped back, my glowing red eyes narrowing as I scanned the shadows of the estate walls.
"What is it?" Anise demanded, her posture shifting seamlessly from a lover back to a Level 100 Hero.
"We have rats in the garden," I whispered, my Vanguard Arm venting a sharp hiss of steam.
"Valerius Thorne isn’t waiting two months. The 58-day grace period was a political lie to lower our guard."
I imdiately tapped into the Sovereign’s Chain, broadcasting my thoughts directly into the minds of my pack inside the house.
---
[Grik: Periter breached. Five hostile signatures in the courtyard. Silenced weapons. Assassins. Execute them, but leave one alive for questioning.]
[Rolf: Copy that, Boss. I was getting hungry anyway.]
[Kaelith: They are stepping into my shadows. How foolish.]
---
I looked at Anise. "Stay close. Let’s welco our guests."
We stepped out of the garden path and into the main cobblestone courtyard. There were no alarms, no explosions.
These were absolute professionals. But against a pack of Apex variants, stealth was completely useless.
CRUNCH!
From behind a pristine marble fountain, Rolf stepped out. He was already partially transford, his silver fur bristling in the moonlight. He effortlessly held a black-clad assassin by the throat with one massive hand.
"I sll fear," Rolf rumbled.
"Wha-" Before even uttering a single word... he was gone.
With a casual flick of his wrist, he snapped the man’s neck and dropped the lifeless body into the bushes.
SHING. SHING.
From the high branches of the glowing chanical willow tree, Kaelith dropped like a stone.
She landed perfectly on the shoulders of two more assassins who were creeping toward the front door.
She drove her dark daggers straight through their collarbones and into their hearts.
They died instantly, collapsing without making a single sound.
’Where are they coming from? This was not what we prepared for!’ their leader thought.
The leader of the strike team panicked.
Realizing his elite squad had been systematically dismantled in under ten seconds, he abandoned the mission.
He turned to vault over the wrought-iron gate to escape.
He didn’t make it.
I crossed the courtyard in a blur of [Obsidian Slipstream].
I caught him mid-air, my brass fingers wrapping around his ankle like an unbreakable vice.
I yanked him violently backward and slamd him straight into the cobblestones.
THUD.
"ARGHH!"
"Don’t kill him!" I barked to Rolf, who was already raising his heavy boot to crush the final assassin’s skull.
"Drag him inside. We are going to have a little chat."
Rolf grabbed the gasping leader by the scruff of his neck and dragged him into the grand foyer of the bungalow.
He threw the assassin into a sturdy wooden chair in the center of the living room.
Nyssa quickly cast an anti-teleportation ward over the room, sealing the exits with glowing erald magic, while Anise stood by the door, her hazel eyes hard and unyielding.
The assassin spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. He wore the dark, featureless leather armor of the Faceless Guild, the most notorious underground killers on the continent.
"I am dead either way, Goblin," the assassin sneered, glaring up at with defiant, hate-filled eyes. "The Faceless do not break. I won’t tell you a damn thing."
"You won’t," I agreed smoothly, crossing my arms over my chest. "But your mind will."
I stepped aside. From the hallway, Lysandra walked into the room.
The Sovereign Succubus Queen looked absolutely breathtaking. Her dark maroon wings folded elegantly behind her back, and the glowing pink crown motif burned brightly on her forehead.
She stopped right in front of the bound assassin. She didn’t draw a weapon.
She simply reached out with a pale, delicate hand and gently cupped his bloody cheek.
"Look at ," Lysandra commanded softly.
The assassin tried to turn his head away, biting his lip to resist the magic, but the sheer, catastrophic weight of her Charm hit him like a tidal wave.
His eyes involuntarily locked onto her glowing pink irises.
The defiance in his expression instantly lted away.
The hardened killer’s face went completely slack, replaced by a drooling, mindless adoration.
"Tell , sweet thing," Lysandra purred, her voice dripping with hypnotic, aphrodisiac magic.
"Who sent you to our ho?"
"Valerius..." the assassin gasped, his eyes wide with unnatural worship for the Succubus.
"Lord Valerius Thorne... he paid the Faceless Guild a fortune in untraceable gold. He couldn’t wait for the Summit. He wants the Goblin’s head now to stop the political fallout."
I looked at Nyssa. The arrogant Incubus was already breaking international laws out of sheer desperation.
"What else?" I asked, stepping closer.
"He wouldn’t just send five thugs if he wanted a guaranteed kill against a Lord. He knows what I did to his Death Knight."
Lysandra stroked the assassin’s hair soothingly.
"Answer my King. What is Valerius’s secondary plan?"
"If we fail..." the assassin wheezed, his body trembling violently under the weight of her mind domination.
"He... he is contacting the..."
Suddenly, the assassin’s eyes rolled completely back into his head.
Deep, glowing purple runes violently flared beneath the skin of his neck and chest.
It was a high-tier blood contract, a magical fail-safe designed by his employers to prevent any interrogation.
"Lysandra, step back!" Nyssa yelled, recognizing the fatal curse.
SQUELCH.
A sickening, wet popping sound echoed in the quiet room.
The assassin’s chest jerked violently, and dark, thick blood poured from his nose and mouth.
The magical curse had just forcefully burst his heart.
He slumped forward in the wooden chair, completely dead.
Lysandra stepped back in disgust, wiping a tiny speck of blood from her flawless cheek. She looked at , her pink eyes flashing with anger.
"He died before he could finish. Valerius has a backup plan."
"Let him plan," I said coldly, looking down at the corpse.
"The 58-day grace period for the official Summit was still politically intact, but the shadow war had officially begun tonight."
Valerius was terrified of the evidence we held, and terrified n made careless mistakes.
I turned to my pack.
"Rolf, Kaelith. Clean this ss up and dispose of the bodies in the lower district incinerators. Leave no trace they were ever here."
"You got it, Boss," Rolf grunted, hauling the dead assassin over his broad shoulder.
I looked at Nyssa and Anise. The imdiate threat was handled, which ant it was ti to accelerate our own preparations. We couldn’t just sit around waiting for the next strike team.
"Nyssa, Anise. Follow down to the arcane foundry," I ordered.
"If Valerius wants to escalate this war, we are going to make sure he chokes on it. It is ti to unveil the Administrator’s cache."
We descended the spiraling stone stairs into the heavily reinforced underground workspace.
I walked straight up to the central drafting table and cleared it with a sweep of my hand.
I raised my right hand, focusing on the glowing Eye of the Architect.
BZZZT.
A massive, incredibly complex holographic blueprint projected directly from my palm, filling the air above the table in a web of glowing blue light. It displayed a chanical suit of sleek, interlocking armor plating and high-pressure thrusters.
Nyssa gasped, her hands flying to the edge of the table.
"By the Great Cog... Grik, what is this?"
"The ancients called it ’The Ironclad,’" I explained, a predatory smile touching my lips.
"It is a fully chanized, flying mana-armor carapace. And we have exactly fifty-eight days to build one for every mber of this pack. I shall leave this to Master Brakka and you Anise."
I sighed and looked towards my squad with conviction in my eyes.
"We need to be strong. Valerius Thorne may be weak for the Kingdom of Iron and Steam, but he is close to achieving the Power of the Law. We need to be in the Level 40s at the very least to face him."
"You are right! The armies or not, if the war breaks out there are a lot of factors to consider other than the Power Levels too. We should discuss this with the King Regent too. Tomorrow." said Nyssa.
"We shall also return to Leveling up after eting him. But this is suspicious. For the people we have gone out of town. How did they know we were here? We didn’t use the City Teleportation Gate. How did the assassins know?" I asked with imnse concern on my face.
"Guess the King did a bad job at clearing the rats." mocked Rolf.
"We need answers. We shall et him tomorrow." I made the decision.
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