Chapter 235: Assassin Guild

Kaelthar – Assassin Guild Headquarters

The room was dark, lit only by a few guttering candles that cast long, dancing shadows across the stone walls. The air smelled of old blood and older secrets, the weight of decades pressing down like a physical presence.

Elliot Jester sat behind a desk cluttered with papers, his black hair falling in a long curtain that framed a sharp, angular face. His eyes, a vivid green, were narrowed in concentration, a thin scar bisecting his left eyebrow, a remnant of a blade that had come too close. His fingers moved with practiced efficiency, sorting through reports, marking which required immediate attention and which could wait.

The window behind him was open, letting in the cool night air. He didn’t flinch when the paper knife sailed through the darkness, aimed at the back of his head.

His hand shot up, fingers catching the blade an inch from his temple. He held it there for a moment, his expression unchanged, then set it down on the desk with a soft clink.

"Really, Sean. Must you always test me?"

A figure detached itself from the shadows near the door, a man with brown hair, dark as mud, and eyes black as coal. His clothes were dark, unadorned, the kind that blended into any background. He walked with a casual, unhurried stride, as if breaking into the guild master’s private chamber was something he did every day.

"Can’t let you get complacent, Boss." Sean’s voice was light, almost teasing. He dropped a folded parchment on the desk. "Client’s report. Target confirmed eliminated."

Elliot picked up the parchment, scanning its contents with sharp, efficient glances. His expression was impassive, but his eyes moved quickly, absorbing every detail.

"Good work, Sean." He set the report aside. "Any complications?"

Sean shrugged, settling into a chair across from the desk. He stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles. "None worth mentioning. The mark was... disappointing. Barely put up a fight."

Elliot’s lips curved into a faint smile. "A shame. I prefer when they struggle. Makes the victory sweeter."

Sean’s dark eyes flickered to a second parchment on Elliot’s desk—one he hadn’t seen before. His brow furrowed.

"What’s that?"

Elliot picked it up, his expression shifting as he read. His green eyes narrowed, the scar above his eyebrow pulling slightly.

"Selena." His voice was flat. "She’s been... wounded."

Sean’s eyebrows rose. "Wounded? She runs a dozen operation teams. Who could—"

"A group of demons." Elliot’s composure cracked slightly. He set the parchment down, his fingers drumming once against the desk. "Entered Kaelthar recently. They slaughtered her men, destroyed her camp. And Selena herself..." He paused, his green eyes distant. "Lost her hand."

Sean’s casual demeanor faltered. His dark eyes sharpened.

"Demons? In Kaelthar?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Why would demons come here? They have nothing to gain from this city."

Elliot’s fingers stilled. His voice was thoughtful, almost musing.

"It seems these demons have business in Kaelthar. Something important enough to risk exposure." He glanced at Sean, his expression sharp. "I want you to prepare a few of our people to watch them."

Sean let out a long, exaggerated sigh, slumping deeper into his chair. "Boss, I’ve been running operations all week. I’m getting buried in work. I need a break."

Elliot’s lips curved into a faint, unsympathetic smile. "Watching someone isn’t that complicated, Sean. It’s not like you’ll be doing it alone."

Sean ran a hand through his dark hair, his jaw tight. After a moment, he let out a resigned breath.

"Fine. I’ll handle it." He pushed himself up from the chair, rolling his shoulders. "Anything else?"

Elliot reached for another parchment, this one bearing a rough sketch of Kaelthar’s streets. A few locations were marked in red ink, safehouses, dead drops, known patrol routes.

"These demons... their movements seem to be heading toward the merchant district. Toward Croft’s territory." He tapped the map with a fingertip. "It seems they have business with him."

Sean’s eyes narrowed. "Croft? That old fox?" He crossed his arms. "If Croft hired them or worse, if they’re working together that could be trouble for us."

Elliot set the map aside, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. His voice was low, thoughtful.

"Indeed. If Croft were to use these demons to attack us, it would be... problematic."

Sean’s jaw tightened. His voice was quieter now, the earlier wariness giving way to something more calculating.

"Trouble, yes. But we’ve weathered worse than a few demons." He shook his head slowly. "They can’t take down our entire guild. That’s impossible."

Elliot’s green eyes sharpened. His voice dropped, carrying a warning edge.

"Don’t be careless, Sean. We don’t know the full extent of their power." He gestured toward the window, toward the dark streets of Kaelthar beyond. "Selena was not weak. Her operation was not small. And yet—" He spread his hands. "She was left broken. Her men were slaughtered. Whatever did that is not something to underestimate."

Sean’s scoff died in his throat. His expression flickered, the arrogance fading into something more guarded.

"...You’re right." He glanced at the map, at the red marks indicating the demons’ path. "I’ll be careful."

Elliot nodded, satisfied. "Good. See that you are."

He picked up another report, already turning his attention to the next crisis.

Sean lingered for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on Elliot’s profile. Then he turned and slipped out of the room, his footsteps silent on the stone floor.

Elliot’s green eyes drifted back to the report on his desk, the one detailing Selena’s encounter. His fingers traced the rough sketch of the horned figure, the description of crimson eyes and impossible strength.

"Wait..." His voice was barely a whisper. His brow furrowed, the scar above his eyebrow pulling taut. "They seem... familiar."

He pushed back from his desk, rising slowly. His boots made no sound on the worn stone floor as he crossed to the window, gazing out at the dark streets of Kaelthar.

"Demons...." His expression hardened. "Better to be careful before something bites me."

The Sleeping Fox Inn – Adam’s Room

Adam leaned against the window frame, his crimson eyes fixed on the dark streets of Kaelthar beyond. The inn’s common room had emptied hours ago, the patrons retreating to their beds, leaving only the soft crackle of the dying fire and the occasional creak of old wood settling.

"The blacksmith," he said finally, breaking the comfortable silence. "I want to see her first. Before we do anything about the guild."

Lilith, seated in the chair by the window, her silver-threaded gown pooling around her feet, inclined her head. Her crimson eyes reflected the dying firelight, warm and thoughtful.

"A wise decision. We should confirm the compass can be repaired before committing to the merchant’s terms." Her lips curved into a small, approving smile.

Ignis, sprawled across the bed with her limbs flung in every direction, let out a long, exaggerated yawn. Her flames had dimmed to a soft, warm glow, and her golden eyes were half-closed with exhaustion.

"Good plan," she mumbled, burying her face in the pillow. "Let’s do it tomorrow. I’m too sleepy to think about blacksmiths right now."

Adam glanced at her, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "You’ve been tired a lot lately. Are you getting enough rest?"

Ignis waved a dismissive hand without lifting her head. "I’m fine. Just... recovering. Flying a lot takes energy, you know."

Lilith’s gaze lingered on Ignis for a moment, something unreadable flickering in her crimson eyes. Then she turned back to Adam.

"The lower district," she said. "That’s where Croft said the blacksmith is located?"

Adam nodded. "Near the edge of the city. He marked it on the map."

"Then we should go at first light." Lilith’s voice was calm, practical.

Adam straightened from the window frame, stretching his arms above his head. His muscles protested slightly, still not fully recovered from the day’s exertions.

"Agreed. We’ll head out as soon as the sun rises."

From the corner of the room, Isolde pushed off from the wall where she had been standing.

"I’m going to my room," she said quietly, already moving toward the door. Her hand was on the knob when she paused, her voice barely audible. "Goodnight."

The door clicked shut behind her before anyone could respond.

Adam watched the door for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. His gaze shifted to Lilith, who was already watching him with knowing eyes.

"She’s still afraid of you," Adam said quietly.

Lilith’s serene smile didn’t waver, but something flickered in her crimson eyes, satisfaction, perhaps, or simply acknowledgment.

"As she should be."

Adam’s features stiffened. He crossed to the bed, settling onto the edge beside Ignis’s sleeping form. His voice was lower now, meant only for Lilith.

"I don’t want her to be afraid of us. We need her cooperation."

Lilith rose from her chair, gliding across the room with fluid grace. She settled beside him on the bed, her shoulder brushing his. Her voice was soft, almost gentle.

"She’s a vampire, Adam. Fear is the only language some creatures understand." She glanced at the closed door, her expression calm. "Give her time. She’ll learn to trust us. Or she won’t." A shrug, delicate and dismissive. "Either way, we have what we need from her for now."