The moon hovered above the Hale Mansion.
Outside, it stood silent—regal and unmoving like a painting. But inside, it pulsed with music, clinking glasses, and muffled laughter. The celebration had begun.
A shadow slipped past the gates, moving with the silence of mist and the sharpness of a blade hidden beneath his uniform.
Gray Welhawk, one of the most feared assassins in the world, wore a crisp white uniform tailored to resemble the Hale Mansion's serving staff. His long, dark-gray hair was tied neatly behind his head, and a silver tray balanced smoothly in one hand.
He moved with precision—gliding through servant entrances, slipping past checkpoints where guards laughed and drank, unnoticed, unbothered. Every detail of the mansion and party was mentally catalogued—he missed nothing.
He was too good. No one doubted him. He served drinks, offered proper greetings, maintained form. Everything was flawless.
But Gray hadn't come for service.
He had entered Hale Mansion with one goal: to infiltrate the celebration and confirm the rising suspicions around the BladeHex members… and Ari's uncle, Lord Gayle.
If the recent chaos was connected to the Hale family—if there was even a whisper of the truth behind the real mastermind—it would be found here, tonight.
Gray moved through servant corridors and paused at a hallway junction. From his sleeve, he slipped out a small, enchanted charcoal pencil and a servant's notebook.
With swift, practiced hands, he sketched a rough layout of the mansion based on observation:
East Wing: Guard barracks.
South Hall: Kitchens and servant quarters.
North Wing: Decorative, unused.
West Hall: Vault entrance. Locked. Magical seal.
Central Wing: Celebration Hall. Heavy security.
He folded the paper and slid it beneath a false panel in his tray, then straightened his back.
It was time to walk into the heart of corruption.
________________________________________
The Celebration Hall
The Celebration Hall was disgustingly extravagant.
Golden chandeliers shimmered overhead, casting light on polished marble floors. Crystal tables glittered beneath fountains that poured wine instead of water. Servants moved like clockwork—eyes low, motions robotic.
Gray entered in silence, his steps blending perfectly with the rhythm of the room. He offered drinks, cleared plates, tidied minor messes. But his eyes scanned relentlessly—every face, every corner.
The room brimmed with nobles, laughing over empire politics, land disputes, and the "weakness of the commoners."
But Gray wasn't here for them.
Then, from the main entrance, the room's attention shifted.
All eyes turned. Applause followed.
Gray listened closely as murmurs whispered the name:
Gayle Hale.
Gayle stepped into the room, eyes gleaming, arms wide.
Gayle:
"To all nobles present here—I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your unwavering support. Working alongside you has been an honor. Now, as the rightful head of the Hale family, I offer you my full support—political and… other."
He smiled thinly. "Please, enjoy the party."
Then, Gayle turned and strode toward a private chamber.
Gray's focus sharpened.
Whatever truth there is… it's behind that door.
A reinforced oak door led into the room, guarded by two well-armed soldiers. Gray wouldn't need to force his way through—not yet.
He overheard a servant (1) whispering to another: fresh wine was being requested for the inner chamber.
The female servant (2) gathered four bottles and placed them carefully on a tray. Gray followed, unnoticed.
Just as she approached the door, her foot slipped—tray tilting.
Gray had struck her knee with magic, knocking her off balance just enough.
She gasped but didn't fall. The tray wobbled dangerously before Gray smoothly steadied it.
Servant (1):
"Be careful! If they see this kind of clumsy behavior… they'll punish you badly."
Gray:
"Let me take it from here."
Servant (1):
"Fine. But be quick. They're waiting."
Gray nodded, picked up the tray with composed grace, and approached the oak door.
The guards eyed him once, and then opened the door.
He enter in the room .
The heavy doors closed behind him.
The air inside was different—thick and suffocating. Not just because of the sweet incense burning in every corner, but from something else.
Magic. Heavy, oppressive, familiar.
Something dark. Almost like… Imperial's magic.
Gray's eyes flicked across the room. There were only seven people. But their presence made the room feel far more crowded.
At the center sat Aden Hale.
His once-gentle eyes were hard, cold. His posture rigid like a self-crowned king.
To his right and left were the members of BladeHex:
Sasha, Blade of Earth: arms folded, silent, eyes like stone.
Mich, Blade of Water: lazily swirling his drink, expression unreadable.
Rosa, Blade of Light: polishing her blade with silent elegance.
Sana, Blade of Lightning: leaning casually, sparks flaring at her fingertips.
Kaito, Blade of Fire: loud, laughing, already slightly drunk.
And then, Gayle, seated like a strategist at the head. Calm. Calculating.
Gray bowed, placed the tray quietly on the table. No one paid him much attention—except Sasha, who glanced at him with a flicker of suspicion.
Gray moved quietly, refilling glasses, clearing dishes. But his ears… they were absorbing every word.
________________________________________
Gayle (serious):
"The room opens tomorrow. The sealed chamber—where the Hale family's historical and ancient artifacts lie. No one is in our way now. It's just you and me, Aden. The seal will break."
Aden (cold):
"And Ari?"
Gayle:
"I'll leave her to you. You've suffered enough disgrace because of her. When the time comes, you'll end her. No hesitation."
Gray's hand paused momentarily as he poured the wine. A tremor in the air.
Rosa (casually):
"And the citizens of this empire?"
Sana (smirking):
"They won't matter. Once Lord Gayle becomes the ruler, they'll have no choice. Whether by loyalty… or fear… they'll bow."
Gray's mind raced. They were planning a takeover. And worse…
Gayle (lower voice):
"We prepare for the worst. As long as she is satisfied, nothing else matters. Recklessness will cost lives. Understand?"
Gray narrowed his eyes.
"She"? Who is she? The real puppet master behind Gayle?
Gayle (grim):
"I received her final orders. That room must open tomorrow. If we fail… she kills us all instantly. First her goal… then our reward."
His calm broke into a cold laugh.
"If we succeed… I will become the ruler of this empire!"
The room echoed with his twisted laughter.
But then—
Kaito's voice cut through the air like fire.
"You!"
Everyone turned.
Kaito wasn't looking at Gray. His eyes locked onto a young female servant who had just dropped her empty tray.
Kaito (furious):
"Are you blind or just stupid?!"
The girl fell to her knees. "I'm sorry, my lord…"
Kaito stood, towering, eyes burning.
"Maybe we should burn your hands, so you learn not to drop things again."
He raised his hand. Fire flickered at his fingertips.
He reached for her.
Gray moved.
Gray (calmly):
"That won't be necessary, my lord. It was an accident. I'll take responsibility."
The room went dead silent.
Kaito's eyes narrowed.
Kaito:
"Don't come in my way, lowly servant. Leave now—or I'll burn you first."
He shoved Gray back and grabbed the girl's hand tighter.
Gray (voice colder now):
"Let. Her. Go."
Gray stepped between them, and with a swift movement, removed Kaito's hand from the girl's wrist.
Sasha looked up, her posture stiffening. Rosa's brow arched slightly. Sana's sparks pulsed brighter.
Aden leaned forward, eyes locking on Gray.
Aden (quietly):
"That face…"