Two more weeks passed in grueling repetition, where each day mirrored the last with brutal consistency. Shin made no exceptions, offering no breaks, no leniency—just challenge after challenge designed to push Laverna beyond her known limits. He demanded more than stamina now; he was shaping her instincts, forging reflexes that reacted before thought could intervene.
Their training ground shifted often: forests, riverbanks, rocky hillsides, and moonlit clearings. Each location brought a different hardship. Sometimes it was balancing across logs above rapids while controlling her ki, and other times, it was silent movement across terrain covered in dry leaves without alerting nearby animals.
"The enemy won't wait for you to catch your breath," Shin would say, his voice calm and cold. "Neither will I."
Laverna, though battered, never yielded. Her muscles ached like fire, her fingers bruised from too many failed weapon catches, and her legs sore from low stances held too long. Yet the glint in her eyes never faded. She had tasted growth, real power, and it was intoxicating.
One day, as they trained along the cliffside, Shin launched a surprise attack—a low strike meant to knock her off balance. Laverna ducked and countered, her movements precise and grounded, ki pulled tightly within her.
"Better," Shin remarked, stepping back. "You're finally learning. You're not wasting energy anymore."
She wiped sweat from her brow, smiling slightly. "Maybe I'm just getting used to your methods."
Shin didn't smile, but something in his eyes softened for a fraction of a second. He handed her a canteen.
"Drink. We'll resume once the sun dips lower. You need to train in lower light. Real assassins thrive in the dark."
That evening, as the sky turned orange and pink, Laverna sat alone by the edge of the cliff, her body sore but her mind alert. She reflected on the days spent under Shin's command—how he spoke with precision, how he never once doubted her potential.
Her connection to her ki felt clearer now, less like a fire threatening to burn out of control and more like a pulse she could direct. She could now suppress it enough to hide her presence, and unleash it in controlled bursts when she needed speed or strength.
She understood now: Shin wasn't just molding her to survive. He was shaping her to strike.
Back at their camp, Shin watched her from a distance. He noted how her breathing had steadied, how her posture had improved, and how her aura no longer flared unless she willed it.
He folded his arms, closing his eyes briefly. "She's ready," he whispered to himself.
The next morning, before the sun fully rose, Shin approached her with a solemn look. "Your training in ki control is no longer basic. You have the foundation to learn proper killing techniques now."
Laverna blinked, then straightened. "You mean... you're going to teach me assassination arts?"
Shin nodded. "Only what you're ready for. Killing isn't about rage or power. It's about control, patience, and timing."
A weight settled in her chest. This was the path she chose, and now, there was no turning back.
"Understood, Master," she said.
"Good," he replied. "We'll begin tonight. Rest while you can."
A week later, a summons arrived—official, sealed with the golden insignia of the Imperial Crown.
Shin stared at the parchment, his jaw tense. Laverna stood beside him, arms crossed as she read the same elegant script.
"He knows," she said flatly. "About the banquet, the rumors, maybe even our visit to Davis. And now he wants us closer."
Laverna leaned on the tree, her gaze serious for once. "Or he wants to tie weights to our ankles before the empire sinks."
They didn't keep the Crown waiting.
The Imperial Palace was as grand as it was ominous, its white stone walls and towering golden spires gleaming under a clouded sky. Shin walked in silence, his every footstep echoing off the marble floors like a war drum. Laverna walked beside him in her hunter's gear, cloak fluttering like a shadow.
A pair of elite guards opened the grand doors to the throne room. There sat King Tristan and Queen Mariam. At his right stood Lady Marcella, his chancellor. At his left, a quiet figure cloaked in velvet. Shin surmised that the hooded figure was an observer. They are most likely tied to his enemies. Shin's eye twitched at the sight, but he held still.
"Shin. Laverna," Tristan's voice rolled through the throne room, polished but strained. "You've risen beyond expectation. The Guild speaks highly of your achievements. You are elite now—living legends among Hunters."
He paused, rising from his throne. "Which is why I need you."
Laverna's eyes narrowed. "Your need, or your desperation?"
A flicker of a smirk tugged at Tristan's lips. "Call it both."
He descended the steps with slow precision, hands clasped behind his back. "The political storm thickens. Foreign kingdoms sow dissent. Revolutionary fires smolder in the streets. The stability I've built for decades now teeters... thanks to liars and opportunists."
He gestured to a map laid out by a servant—an embroidered tapestry of the Empire with flags marking territories. "We've traced a thread of unrest to Valdorne. Its mayor, Edmund, feigns loyalty but hosts secret gatherings, arms rebels, and sells information to outsiders. He hides behind his noble status... but you, as agents of the Guild, are not bound by such limits."
Shin kept his expression unreadable, but inside, the old hatred bubbled. They were being conscripted as royal executioners.
"You want us to assassinate him," Shin said calmly.
"Not just him," Tristan said, stepping close. "There are others. Nobles, mayors, and warmongers in sheep's wool. Each is a threat to unity."
"And what do we get in return?" Laverna asked.
Tristan turned his back on them and returned to his throne, then spoke without looking. "Information. The truth about the clans you hunt. Access to restricted archives. And above all—freedom. If you serve the Crown's will, your past sins and defiance will be erased. You'll be heroes."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Shin's voice, when it came, was ice. "You want to clean house with blood. But this house is already rotten."
Tristan's smile didn't falter. "Then perhaps you'll find satisfaction in purging it."
Laverna looked to Shin. "Your call."
He stared at Tristan for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "We'll go to Valdorne. But make no mistake—this isn't loyalty. It's a hunt."
Tristan raised his goblet. "As long as the prey falls, I care not what drives the hounds."
As they turned to leave, Laverna murmured, "This path is blood and shadows. We won't come back clean."
Shin's eyes never left the distant horizon. "We never were."