Here's the full translation of your chapter **"9# A Sombra que Observa"** into English:
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### 9# The Shadow That Watches
Clint closed the dormitory door behind him and let silence swallow him whole. The night felt heavier than usual. He dropped into the chair by the window, thoughts swirling in a storm of recent memories.
The conversation with Iris still echoed in his mind. The coldness of her threats, the arrogance in every word, the weight of blackmail. But there was something else. Something that unsettled him during his talk with Alucard.
A presence.
It wasn't just a fleeting sensation. It was as if something—or someone—had been watching them, hidden right under his nose, beyond the reach of his vision, beyond even his sharpened instincts.
Clint raised his hand, curling it into a fist, and noticed the faint tremor in his fingers.
— Was it just my imagination? — he muttered, staring at his shadowed reflection in the glass.
For a few seconds, he let himself get lost in the darkness beyond the window. His eyes scanned the horizon as if seeking an answer. But the chill crawling down his spine refused to fade.
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Dawn brought a gray sky over the academy. When Emylle awoke, she found Clint already dressed, as if he hadn't slept at all.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off before any words could form.
— Call Gareth. — His voice was low, yet firm. — We're leaving the academy for a while.
Emylle bowed in silence, though her eyes betrayed her concern. Clint didn't care.
A letter already lay ready on the desk, addressed to the direction of Noblese Academy. Just a formal notice, polite, carefully worded so his absence wouldn't be seen as rebellion.
Clint drew in a deep breath. Something inside told him he was about to walk straight into a storm.
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Miles away, atop a forgotten hill where the wind howled like a starving beast, a man stood motionless.
His dark cloak blended with the night that resisted the rising sun. His eyes, however, burned with a supernatural glow. Mantra flowed through them, cutting across impossible distances.
And there was the target.
Clint Ravenhart.
The man observed in silence, the cold stare of a seasoned predator.
What did Ivan see in this boy to recommend my services? he thought, his contempt clear. Do they take me for a joke?
He had killed nobles, generals, even kings. His name was a whisper that spread fear in the underworld. And now… now they wanted him to watch a boy barely thrown into the games of nobility.
Absurd.
That's when it happened.
A brutal shiver crawled down his spine. The air itself seemed to freeze.
Clint, seated in his dorm, turned his gaze away from the untouched food and slowly faced the window. His head lifted and, as if distance didn't exist, his eyes locked precisely on the direction of the hill.
The assassin trembled.
— No… it's impossible. — he whispered to himself in disbelief. — There's no way he could sense me from here.
Yet the sensation didn't fade. Those eyes cut across miles, tearing through the shadows that had protected him for decades.
The silence became unbearable.
Then he laughed.
A dry, low laugh, somewhere between excitement and madness.
— Interesting… — he murmured, lips curling into a hungry smile. — Very interesting.
He severed the flow of mantra and turned away, vanishing into the shadows of the hill as if he had never been there. His final words echoed across the cutting wind:
— This will be fun.
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Hours later, Clint left the letter on his bed and went to meet Gareth, Emylle following in his shadow.
When they found him, the knight was already prepared, as though he had foreseen the call. His black armor gleamed under the gray light of day, the Ravenhart crest shining across his chest.
— My lord, do you have an order? — Gareth dropped to one knee without hesitation.
— Ready the carriage immediately. We're leaving for Kamira.
Gareth nodded without a word.
The journey was quick and quiet. Two days crossing calm roads under the watch of Kamira's soldiers. Clint barely spoke throughout the trip. His gaze stayed fixed on the passing scenery, but his mind was still in the academy room, on the suffocating feeling of being watched.
When they finally arrived, the gates of Ravenhart manor opened with solemnity. The guards recognized Gareth instantly and granted passage without delay.
Clint was the first to step down, his expression unshaken. His eyes swept across the estate's garden and settled on two figures.
Elara walked slowly beside Eduard. She smiled upon seeing him.
— Well, if it isn't my dear son. — she said, the word son carrying an almost tangible weight.
Clint only watched her. Part of him wanted to believe in that smile. Another part knew it was nothing but a façade.
He turned to Eduard, his voice an order.
— Inform my father that I need to speak with him immediately.
The butler bowed respectfully, but his reply was curt.
— I'm sorry, young master. The duke is not within the territory. He was summoned to an audience with the king and left without explanation.
Clint clenched his fists, his teeth grinding.
Damn you, Iris Valerius…
— Ready the carriage. — he ordered without hesitation. — I will go to the palace myself.