The carriage rocked gently along the dirt road, its lantern casting pale gold light across the forested path.
Inside, the cabin smelled faintly of blood and poultice herbs.
Kain leaned back against the padded seat, a half-emptied healing potion resting between his fingers. His shirt was torn, his side bandaged. His eyes remained locked on the dagger resting on his lap—the same one that had ended a man's life.
Across from him, Sir Aldane grunted as he adjusted his coat, wincing as the potion sealed the long gash across his thigh.
"Drink more," Aldane said, voice gruff but low. "Your rib's still bruised. The potion'll dull it."
Kain drank. The thick, metallic liquid went down like hot syrup.
The silence lingered.
Then Aldane spoke, his eyes heavy beneath the brim of his hat.
"Black Serpents. Cowards, all of them. But skilled. Deadly, if underestimated."
Kain glanced up.
"You knew who they were?"
"Recognized the patterns. That armor, the hooks on their daggers. The scent of their poison, too. Mint and copper—they use a blend to numb nerves."
Kain blinked. He hadn't even noticed a scent.
"They're not just a guild," Aldane continued. "They're a syndicate. Decades old. Mercenaries, thieves, information brokers—but most of all, assassins. They operate from the shadows of every major city on the continent. Only those who pay can summon their blades. And the price is steep."
Kain leaned forward slightly, the dagger now gripped in his hand. "Then someone wants me dead enough to pay."
"Which is why you don't leave the capital again." Aldane's voice was steel now. "You're under the clan's protection here, whether they like you or not. Out there, you're exposed."
Kain stared at him. "Are you going to report this?"
Aldane met his gaze. "Do you want me to?"
"No."
Aldane nodded once. "Then I won't."
The carriage rattled on.
Outside, the moon dipped lower. The night was calm. But Kain's thoughts weren't.
The Serpent Guild. Of course it was them.
In the original novel, they were the ones who finally did Kain in. Not tonight—chapter 42. Middle of a political arc. A warning hit, just to raise the stakes for the real nobles. Kain didn't even get a named assassin. Just a throat slit in a bathhouse. Off-screen.
But this time… he'd left the capital. Broke the sequence. Triggered the flag early.
He exhaled through his nose.
"Guess they sent a few low-level hounds to clean me up early. That was lucky."
It could've been worse.
The Nameless Blades could've come.
A chill ran down his spine just thinking about them.
He'd created them himself—his own personal top-tier boogeymen. The Four Nameless Blades. The Serpent Guild's trump cards. Nobody knew their identities, even within the guild. They didn't speak. Didn't leave survivors.
Each one represented a concept:
Silence, the shadow that never missed.
Whispers, the one who killed with illusions.
Pulse, the berserker who could read your heartbeat like sheet music.
And Grin, the worst one—the one who smiled as he killed, with poisoned blades and eyes like dead stars.
If any of them had come tonight… I'd be gone. No respawn. Just erased.
He swallowed hard.
He hadn't even finished writing their backstories. Just outlines. Images. And still—they terrified him.
Kain looked down at his hand. Flexed it.
The muscles were denser. Tighter. Like a steel cable under skin. His vision sharper. Balance perfect.
This isn't the same body.
It looked like Kain Norigusho. It bled like him. But it moved like the assassins he'd killed.
He opened his notebook, flipping to a blank page. With careful strokes, he wrote a single word:
Plunder.
That's what it felt like.
Whenever he killed—he took something. Not just strength. But everything.
Their skills. Their muscle memory. Their instincts. And worst of all… their mindset.
That's why he didn't feel sick. Or scared. Or even regretful.
The old Kain—both of them—would've been curled into a ball by now.
But this Kain? He felt nothing.
He remembered the way the last assassin's eyes rolled back. The twitch of the final nerve. The way the dagger had slid into the heart without resistance.
And he remembered thinking, He's just flesh.
Like anything else.
That thought should've horrified him.
Instead… it had made sense.
He stared out the window.
"Maybe it's not just memories. Maybe I absorb pieces of them, too."
That was dangerous.
Terrifying, even.
"What's the point of surviving if I stop being me?"
But even as he thought that, he wasn't sure he remembered what "me" meant anymore.
Back at the Estate — Dusk Before Dawn
The carriage rolled through the gates of Norigusho estate just as the horizon bled with blue fire. The sky wasn't black anymore—but it wasn't light either.
The guards at the gate didn't ask questions.
They never did with Aldane.
Inside the estate, the world was asleep.
Kain stepped out of the carriage.
He didn't feel drunk. Or tired.
He felt wired. Like his bones had been replaced with lightning.
Aldane stepped beside him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder.
"My lord," he said, "what happened tonight… isn't the end of it."
"I know."
Aldane studied him. "And whatever's happening to you—it's not normal."
"No."
"Do you want me to look into it?"
Kain thought for a moment. Then shook his head. "No. Not yet. I want to… figure this out myself. First."
Aldane gave a slow nod. "Then I'll stay close. And I'll be ready."
Kain offered a faint, tired smile. "You always are."
The old knight turned and disappeared into the estate.
Kain stood in the open courtyard for a moment longer.
The wind was cool. The trees didn't whisper.
The world, for now, was quiet.
But inside him?
Something was waking up.
And it was hungry.