In the capital city of Astreon, Duke Noah Rockson sat comfortably among silk cushions, wine swirling lazily in his goblet. Laughter echoed through the chamber as he conversed with royal diplomats under golden chandeliers.
"You see," Noah said with practiced sorrow, "the Crowell family of Presia has gone too far this time. Roman Crowell publicly humiliated me, seized my wealth. one thousand and fifty valons' worth and dared to accuse a duke of corruption." He shook his head dramatically. "All while claiming he wishes to 'help the commoners.'"
One of the diplomats scoffed. "What arrogance. A mere brat playing at justice."
Noah smiled thinly. "Exactly. Presia must be punished for their insolence. With your help, of course."
The men raised their cups, utterly unaware that death had already begun to move.
Far away in Presia Dukedom, the green signal had been given.
Duke Jacob's order echoed through the underground chambers, followed by Roman's calm confirmation.
Operation Specter — Phase Two: The Wrath.
The night swallowed the city as covert teams began to move.
Within the hidden halls of the Magic Tower of Presia, masked operatives received weapons, cloaks, enchanted tools, and sealed scrolls. Jeremiah personally oversaw the final distributions, spatial magic shimmering faintly as equipment vanished into dimensional storage.
Silent nods were exchanged.
No speeches were needed.
They vanished into the darkness.
In Ephor, the targets remained blissfully ignorant.
Rudolf Steiner laughed loudly within his lavish estate, wine spilling as music echoed through marble halls. Guards stood relaxed, joking among themselves, never imagining that their last night had already begun.
High above the rooftops, eyes watched.
Waiting.
Then
A faint pulse rippled through the air.
Head Knight Captain Zion's signal.
Begin.
A sudden roar of fire magic erupted in the distance brilliant, loud, and spectacular. Flames spiraled into the night sky like a festival display, drawing attention from streets and towers alike.
"Fire!" someone shouted. "The commoners are rioting!"
At the outer gate of Rudolf's estate, two beggars staggered forward, panic etched across their faces.
Before the gatekeepers could react
Flash.
Two blades moved in perfect unison.
Heads fell.
Blood splattered the stone.
The bodies were dragged aside, shadows swallowing the corpses whole.
In seconds, the beggars were gone.
Ephor knight uniforms replaced rags.
Josey Herclue and Allen stepped through the gates as soldiers.
"Emergency!" Allen shouted. "The common people are attempting to burn the estate!"
Panic spread instantly.
But then
A heavy presence descended the stairs.
Knight Captain Herob.
His armor was dark, worn, and soaked with the aura of countless killings. His eyes were cruel, calculating loyal only to Duke Noah Rockson.
"I'll check it myself," Herob said coldly.
He stepped forward.
Passing between them.
For a fraction of a second, Allen's breath caught.
Then
Herob's hand snapped out, gripping Allen's skull with crushing force.
"You dogs," Herob snarled. "You think I don't know my knights' faces?"
His grip tightened.
"You killed them."
Josey moved.
A dagger flashed.
Steel kissed flesh.
Herob roared as the blade sliced into the vital tendons near his foot, blood spraying across the marble floor.
Allen was hurled into the wall with brutal force.
Cracks spiderwebbed through stone.
Herob drew his sword, eyes burning. "I'll kill you myself!"
Steel clashed.
Josey danced backward as Herob attacked with savage strength, while Ephor knights flooded the hall, surrounding Allen.
At the same time, Rudolf Steiner fled sweat pouring down his face as guards dragged him toward the emergency tunnels beneath the estate.
"Allen!" Josey shouted. "Stop playing. Old ways. Now."
Allen wiped blood from his mouth and smirked. "About time."
Spatial distortion flickered.
In an instant, their positions switched.
Allen stood before Herob.
Josey faced the knights.
Josey inhaled.
"Time to test some new techniques."
He hurled his daggers skyward.
They spun.
Vanished.
Josey lunged forward, fists colliding with steel as blades swung toward him. His form twisted his face, his armor, his stance shifting mid-motion.
One knight struck another.
Another stabbed a man who looked exactly like Josey only to realize too late it was his ally.
Panic erupted.
"Which one is he?!"
Josey's disguise magic shifted again.
And again.
Blood painted the floor.
Herob staggered.
Allen drove a brutal punch into Herob's chest and followed with a short sword plunged deep into his left arm. Bone cracked.
Herob screamed. "WHO IS BEHIND THIS?!"
His movements slowed.
His vision blurred.
"You poisoned me…" Herob growled. "You rats…"
Allen stepped forward calmly.
"You're slow," he said.
His blade pierced straight through Herob's heart.
The knight captain collapsed, lifeless.
Josey glanced over. "You've gotten rusty, Allen."
"Shut up," Allen replied. "The fat elephant is escaping."
Josey smiled coldly. "Then I'll borrow this face."
Herob's body shimmered.
Josey became Herob.
Armor, voice, presence perfect.
They sprinted toward the tunnels.
Ahead, Rudolf Steiner ran, sobbing, guards shouting behind him.
Footsteps echoed.
The hunt continued.