CHAPTER 15: CHAPTER15-WHEN THE EXPERT RANK STRIKES

"Tell me! Was it Aurek who sent you?!"

Nock’s head jerked upward, his voice erupting into a hoarse, furious roar that echoed across the bloody hall. His rage was no longer the rage of confusion, but of realization. The puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place.

The mysterious force that annihilated the Blackfish Gang. The unseen hand that shattered Wood’s limbs. The assassins who tonight butchered his household and turned his castle into a slaughterhouse.

They were all Aurek’s doing.

At last, the truth dawned on him.

His mind flashed back to the moment at the western gate of Valoria Palace earlier that very day. He remembered the young emperor’s words, cold and threatening. He had thought Aurek’s fury then was nothing more than the impotent rage of a powerless monarch, a caged lion baring its teeth.

But now he realized the joke had always been on him.

The true clown was himself.

Aurek—this seemingly indecisive and unremarkable emperor of the Crossbridge Empire—had hidden his strength in plain sight, fooling them all. He had played the weakling while secretly wielding a power so terrifying it could alter the fate of kingdoms.

How laughable! How blind he had been!

He had once believed the most dangerous man in the empire was Jacoff, the Grand Marshal, or perhaps Troy with his intricate webs of influence. Yet all along, the emperor had been the wolf in sheep’s clothing, biding his time in silence.

But what of it?

Even if Aurek possessed this dreadful power, what could it change? The empire was collapsing, crumbling like a rotted edifice. No matter how fiercely the emperor struggled, the ending would remain the same—ruin and dust.

As Nock’s thoughts burned with fury and despair, the Elemental Assassins adjusted their positions. They had felt it too—the suffocating aura radiating from Butler Brown.

This was the pressure of an Expert Rank awakener. His presence was like a mountain pressing down upon them. Compared to Elite Rank, the difference was like night and day.

And yet, the assassins did not flinch. Their faceless discipline was unbroken.

Five of them slipped soundlessly toward Butler Brown’s back, their movements so subtle they seemed to merge with the night itself. The others spread outward, weaving themselves into an invisible formation that hemmed the battlefield with silent menace.

A breeze stirred. Two of Nock’s surviving guards stiffened as though touched by an invisible blade. In the next heartbeat their heads spun into the air, blood spraying across the flagstones.

But in that same instant, Butler Brown moved.

No one saw where the weapon came from, but suddenly a longsword glimmered in his grip. He raised it casually, and then his body blurred. In a flash he appeared beside the fallen guards, his blade already carving arcs of killing light.

Sword energy burst outward, dense and unrelenting. The space ahead was sealed within a lattice of blades, as though an iron web had been flung over the courtyard.

Two of the assassins were forced to retreat, their forms twisting into existence as they strained to block the flood of sword strikes.

For the first time, the crowd saw them—saw the "ghosts" that had haunted the empire.

And the sight froze their blood.

They were not men. Not creatures of flesh and bone. They were puppets—soulless constructs encased in armor, their faces hidden, their movements eerily mechanical.

Nock’s jaw dropped. The realization struck him like lightning. These were no assassins of flesh—they were puppets, engineered with terrifying skill.

Butler Brown’s eyes narrowed. Shock flickered across his stern face.

Puppets were nothing new to him. Many organizations employed them. Some even specialized in their creation, and there was said to exist an entire guild devoted solely to the art of puppet mastery.

Yet these were unlike anything he had ever encountered.

To conceal themselves so completely, to move unseen and strike with the subtlety of a whispering breeze—such craftsmanship was beyond belief. Even Butler Brown, who had seen the wonders of the world, was astonished.

"So, the emperor of the Crossbridge Empire is not the fool he pretends to be," Butler Brown murmured coldly. "To think mere puppets could withstand my strikes."

If word spread, none would believe it. Two constructs, standing firm against the onslaught of an Expert Rank.

His eyes gleamed with interest.

"I must see what secrets lie within you."

With a snort, he swung his sword once more. Steel rang, and his energy surged.

But this time he no longer toyed with them. His power unfurled in full force. The energy within his body surged outward, condensing into countless threads of invisible force. They stretched across the battlefield, filling the space like the strings of a vast, unseen instrument.

His sword dissolved into starlight, a thousand gleaming sparks. Within the lattice of energy threads, the fragments of his weapon darted and weaved, flickering with impossible speed.

With a single blade, Butler Brown forged an entire net of swords.

Murderous intent filled every inch of the air.

Gasps rippled through those who remained alive. Nock’s surviving guards stood frozen, eyes wide. For the first time, they witnessed what true power looked like.

"So this... this is Expert Rank?" one whispered, his voice trembling.

The two young men from the Unicorn Trading Guild watched with barely restrained excitement, their eyes glowing with hunger. This was the power their mentor commanded, the future they longed for.

But suddenly, Butler Brown’s attack faltered. His body stilled, his brow furrowing.

A killing intent swept across his back, sharp as a dagger at his throat.

He spun instinctively, placing his sword behind him in a swift parry. Sparks exploded as steel met steel, the clang of metal ringing like thunder. A dagger had struck from the shadows, deflected at the last instant.

Before he could turn fully, a breeze surged before him. The two young men cried out in alarm.

"Mentor! Ahead of you!"

Butler Brown smirked coldly. With a twist of his wrist, the longsword at his back flared with light, and in a blink it cleaved forward to his front.

The assassins melted away, their forms dissolving into the air once more.

Nock gaped in disbelief. He had never imagined enemies so elusive, so relentless. Puppets that could vanish and reappear at will? If he had not seen it himself, he would have sworn such things were impossible.

The two young men drew their swords, their faces tense. These constructs were too dangerous. They could not stand idle while their mentor fought.

Then, out of the corner of their eyes, they saw it—something shifting, a shadow darting behind Butler Brown.

"Mentor! Behind you!" they shouted desperately, rushing forward.

Butler Brown’s face twisted. His voice snapped out like a whip.

"No! Stay back!"

The two froze, confused. Why such urgency?

And then, a strange sensation gripped them.

The world tilted. Their bodies seemed to lift into the air. Their vision spun as they looked down—and saw their own headless corpses crumpling below.

For a heartbeat they did not comprehend it. The horror only struck when they realized the truth.

That was their blood on the stones. That was their flesh collapsing lifelessly.

They were dead.

Two young apprentices, awakeners of Apprentice Rank, cut down in an instant without so much as a chance to defend themselves.

The courtyard grew still, heavy with dread.

How many puppets lurked unseen? How many blades hovered in the air, waiting for the next strike?

The survivors felt a crushing despair settle over them. None could escape the thought: death was everywhere.

No one knew whose head would be the next to fall.