The curved blade flashed silver as the assassin lunged, its razor edge cutting through the air directly at Rhyse's throat. A blue-white pulse erupted from his skin as the ward flared to life, the blade striking like a hammer against an unseen shield—vibrations rattling his teeth as the impact shuddered through his frame. The System's cold notification pulsed in his vision: [Reinforced Ward Integrity: 85%].
"Intruders! Training Hall! Core Guard, to me!" The yell ripped from Rhyse's throat, raw and desperate, as his back hit the training hall wall. His fingers tightened around the practice sword's leather grip, the blunted edge suddenly laughable against real steel. The assassin's mask tilted slightly—a flicker of surprise crossing those dead eyes at the blue-white flare of his ward—and in that moment, Rhyse's thoughts narrowed to a single razor point of focus.
System, activate Rapid Assessment on that assassin!
[Activating Skill: Rapid Assessment (Personnel - Rank 1). Target locked. Cost: 400 Gold Sovereigns.]
[Assessment Complete: Target - Rank 4 Assassin (Infiltration Specialist). Primary Attributes: Agility (High), Stealth (Exceptional). Combat Skill: Moderate (Relies on surprise/vulnerability). Weakness: Sustained direct confrontation against armored/shielded opponents.]
Rank 4. Even as infiltration specialists, they were far more dangerous than he'd initially feared. His construct, engaging two such opponents, wouldn't last. As if to prove his thought, its azure form flickered violently under a coordinated barrage and dissolved into fading motes of light.
[System Alert: Summoned Bodyguard Destroyed.]
The bladed shadows shifted from the dissipating azure motes, twin sets of cold eyes locking onto Rhyse as they joined their circling companion—three predators now closing in with measured steps, their practiced movements cutting off every escape route between training dummies and weapon racks.
But the System was ready, tireless.
Summon again! Now!
[500 Gold Sovereigns Expended. Summoning Basic Bodyguard (Rank 1)... Construct Materializing...]
Another shimmering humanoid form solidified, its translucent form stepping between steel and heir. Rhyse staggered back as another blade screeched against his ward's barrier, the impact sending hairline fractures spiderwebbing through the glowing shield. Numbers flickered ominously in his vision—Reinforced Ward Integrity: 65%. It was strong, but not invincible against repeated Rank 4 strikes.
The second bodyguard lasted only moments before being overwhelmed.
[System Alert: Summoned Bodyguard Destroyed.]
Again! Rhyse commanded, another 500 Gold vanishing from the Network. The third construct appeared. He was using his family's vast fortune, each summon a brief, desperate stall tactic.
It was then that a thunderous crash echoed through the training hall as the heavy doors burst open. Two figures clad in the deep blue and black of the Synkar house guard charged in, their blades already humming with the telltale glow of pre-activated combat enchantments.
The lead guard—a a stern-faced woman with sharp features hardened by years of service—scanned the chaotic scene in an instant, her voice cutting through the din. "Lord Rhyse!" she barked, her grip tightening on the hilt of her mana-wreathed sword as she assessed the dire tableau of shattered constructs and circling assassins.
The assassins reacted with professional calm, their training evident. One broke away to engage the veteran guard, blades clashing in a blur of steel, while the second lunged toward the younger recruit, forcing him into a desperate defense. The third remained a relentless shadow, pressing forward to keep Rhyse's summoned guardian on the back foot.
The sounds of battle intensified – the high-pitched shriek of manatech blades clashing, the dull thud of impacts against armor and flickering wards. Rhyse watched, heart pounding, as the younger guard stumbled under a flurry of blows from the second assassin, his defensive stance faltering. The assassin's curved blade darted like a serpent, seeking an opening to finish him off. The vicious strike slipped past his guard, the curved blade striking true.
The weight of his own helplessness pressed down on Rhyse as the battle raged—his guards' armor groaning under relentless strikes. His fingers twitched with the urge to act, but his mana-starved veins offered no recourse. Then the realization struck like lightning: the system didn't couldn't just shield him—it could also become an armor for his guards, the same thing that happened with the seal case.
A sharp inhalation as the interface flared in his mind's eye, its cold logic slicing through panic. He visualized the wheeling combat—the veteran guard's gritted teeth, the younger one's buckling stance—and thought:
System, activate Basic Ward on Core Guard B! (He mentally designated the younger guard as B, hoping the System would understand his intent. (He'd later learn the system required no names—only intent. But in that moment, "Guard B" was the only prayer he could muster.)
[Activating System Effect: Basic Ward (Rank 0) on Designated Ally. Duration: 10 Minutes. Cost: 100 Gold Sovereigns.]
The system's response was instantaneous, gold bleeding from some unseen vault as starlight shimmered around the guard's vulnerable flank. No grand incantation, just the quiet click of a lock sliding home.
A fainter shimmer enveloped the guard just as the assassin blade aimed for his exposed side. The attack skittered off the newly formed ward with a shower of sparks, giving the surprised guard a vital moment to recover his footing and counter-attack fiercely.
At that moment, the assassin's blade carved through Rhyse's personal Reinforced Ward under a well-aimed strike as Rhyse staggered back, the backlash rattling his bones. A silent scream flared across his vision in chilling crimson: [Sytem Alert: Reinforced Ward Depleted!]
Reinforced Ward, again! he commanded, panic clawing at his throat.
[Activating System Effect: Reinforced Personal Ward (Rank 1). Duration: 30 Minutes. Activation Cost: 1,500 Gold Sovereigns.]
The stronger ward shimmered back into existence around him just as his third summoned bodyguard was cut down.
[System Alert: Summoned Bodyguard Destroyed.]
Summon!
Another 500 Gold.
Basic Ward on Core Guard A!
Another 100 gold vanished as the stern-faced guard gritted her teeth, her sword flashing against the blur of two rank-4 specialists. The first attacker's blade had already left a deep gash in her shoulder, the metal of her armor groaning under the relentless assault while the younger guard's blood still dripped onto the training hall floor.
Rhyse was a support caster fueled by an empire's treasury, keeping himself and his protectors in the fight by fractions of a second, his own Reinforced Ward now flickering dangerously: Integrity: 20%. His fourth summoned bodyguard materialized, throwing itself at the assassin who aimed for Rhyse, who was now busy shielding his allies with Basic Ward.
The younger guard, although wounded, still threw himself back at the fight. Just as the situation felt utterly desperate, the main doors of the Training Hall were blasted fully open by a thunderous crash, splintered wood and dust swirling in the wake of an overwhelming force.
The shattered doorway exploded inward, Captain Brandt Marek's towering form cutting through the haze of splintered wood like a storm breaking through stone. His magitech blade hummed, surrounded by an intense blue sword aura that pulsed with each step, sending tremors through the floor. The sheer weight of his Rank 5 presence crushed the air, choking the room in an instant. Eyes like tempered steel locked onto the assassins as his command split the chaos like a blade:
"Stand down, vermin!" His voice wasn't just heard—it carved through flesh and bone, the unshakable authority thundering behind it. "You face the Core Guard of House Synkar!"
The assassins stiffened—one glaring at the unyielding guard now shielded by flickering wardlight, another recoiling from the summoned warrior's relentless assault, the third momentarily disengaging from the injured guard at Marek's arrival.
Marek didn't wait for a response. His eyes quickly assessed the battlefield as he moved with the speed and precision of a master warrior, his glowing blade a blur as he engaged the assassin facing Rhyse's summoned construct. The difference in rank was immediately apparent. The Rank 4 infiltrator was instantly on the defensive, its dark blade struggling to parry Marek's powerful strikes.
Seeing their comrade so utterly outmatched, the other two active assassins exchanged a single, almost imperceptible glance. Their silent communication was swift, their decision absolute. The mission was a failure; escape was now the priority.
Before Marek's relentless assault could fell his opponent completely, the two remaining assassins disengaged from their respective fights with sudden, explosive bursts of speed. They didn't charge Marek; instead, they spun, heading for the high, moonlit windows through which they had entered, their movements displaying their their Rank 4 agility. They were infiltrators first and foremost; a direct confrontation with a Rank 5 Knight-Captain was definitely a losing one.
"They're fleeing! Secure the exits!" Marek roared, even as his blade finally bit deep, felling the assassin he had engaged. The man crumpled without a sound.
But the Core Guard was already moving. Even as the two assassins launched themselves towards the windows, more Core Guard members, alerted by the escalating commotion and likely Captain Marek's own silent command signals, were appearing at the main doors and other potential egress points of the training hall.
"Containment wards, activate!" a new voice, a Core Guard lieutenant, called out from the doorway.
As the two assassins reached the windowsills, preparing to leap into the darkness outside, shimmering nets of crackling blue energy suddenly snapped into place across each window frame, materializing from previously invisible runes etched into the stonework. It was a standard Synkar perimeter defense, rapidly deployed.
One assassin, already mid-leap, slammed into the newly formed energy net with a sickening thud, recoiling back onto the floor, momentarily dazed. The other skidded to a halt just shy of a similar barrier, spinning to face the now numerous Core Guards advancing from all sides, Captain Marek at their head.
Trapped. No escape.
The two conscious assassins locked eyes again. There was no surrender in their posture, only a cold, final resolve. With chilling synchronicity, their hands darted to their jaws.
"Stop them!" Marek ordered, lunging forward, but he was too late.
A faint, dark, acrid smoke escaped their lips as they bit down hard. Their bodies convulsed once, then went still. The dazed assassin, beginning to stir, was quickly and efficiently subdued by two guards before they could follow suit, but a quick check by a medic-trained Guard revealed the tell-tale signs of the same fast-acting toxin already coursing through their system. Too late for an antidote. Moments later, they too were gone.
Captain Marek lowered his blade, his breath misting slightly in the cool air of the now eerily silent training hall. His expression was grim as he looked at the three fallen assassins. "Ingesting termination sigils or fast-acting toxins. Professionals to the last. No chance of interrogation from any of them."
Master Orrin Valerius rushed in then, his face ashen, having pushed past the outer cordon of guards. He was flanked by even more Core Guard members who quickly began to secure the scene meticulously, attending to the wounded younger guard and the injured stern-faced guard.
"My lord!" Valerius exclaimed, his relief palpable as he reached Rhyse's side, his eyes quickly scanning the boy for injuries. "Are you unharmed?"
Rhyse's nod was a jerky motion, his legs trembling beneath him as the adrenaline rush subsided, replaced by a creeping weariness that seeped into his bones. The residual glow of his Reinforced Ward, still shimmering around him like a faint aura, was a tangible reminder of the thousands of gold sovereigns he'd spent in a frantic bid to survive, conjuring temporary shields and summoning expendable defenders to bolster his defenses.
The younger guard was being carefully helped to his feet by a comrade, a medic already applying a glowing salve to his wounds.
Rhyse's gaze lingered on the sprawled assassins before shifting to Marek, fingers tightening around the hem of his ruined tunic. The trio's blackened lips and still-warm bodies told their own story—experts who'd picked through the manor's forgotten passageways, who'd anticipated his training habits, then chosen death over capture the instant they'd failed.
His voice emerged steadier than he felt. "Rank 4 Infiltrators don't just happen upon our less-used corridors, Captain. Whoever sent them knew enough to make certain not a single whisper escapes—even after death."
The active wards flickered overhead, casting shifting shadows across his hardened expression as he met Marek's eyes. "What do professional ghosts cost, and who would spend that much coin just to take my life?"
The inquiry lingered, burdened with unsaid meanings and the unsettling realization of a resolute, merciless foe. The skirmish was finished, yet not without a substantial expenditure of funds and composure. The System, meanwhile, was already analyzing the results and indicating the course ahead.
[System Quest Updated: Secure Loyal Protection - Sub-objective: Survive Ambush - COMPLETE. Bonus Experience +5 System Advancement.]
[New Quest Issued: [Identify the Assassins' Handler]]
[Objective: Uncover the individual or faction responsible for the assassination attempt.]
[Rewards: Significant System Advancement, Unique Skill/Schematic, Increased House Loyalty.]