[You could've infiltrated quietly. Kill those roaches and walk away. Why the fireworks?]
"They already know the assassination failed," Nyx muttered, stepping forward without fear. The gazes that fell on him—burning with killing intent—were like eagle's eyes locked on a chick. But Nyx didn't flinch.
"They're either watching my every move or already planning their next one. Why hide when I can make it a spectacle?"
He drew his sword with a smooth flick, the silver blade catching the sunlight.
"Wind Vortex."
A spiraling storm of wind erupted around him, howling with such force it could flatten a town. Anyone who dared charge was immediately swept off their feet, tossed aside like paper dolls. A cold grin curled on Nyx's lips.
"Flame Arrow."
Small but deadly fire arrows materialized in front of him—then, in a twist of brilliance, got caught in the vortex. They spun faster and faster, circling the maelstrom like flaming saw blades.
"Wh–What is that?!" someone shouted in disbelief. "Wasn't he just a noble's brat?! How the hell is he a mage?!"
"R-Run! They're flying toward us!"
The swirling vortex launched the arrows like a magical railgun. They pierced bodies mid-spin—and then exploded, turning men into showers of blood, bone, and fire. The chaos was absolute. Screams echoed across the courtyard. Nyx moved forward, unbothered, cutting a path through the manor as easily as a blade through silk.
By the time he reached the front gate, blood soaked the stone. From inside the manor, a panicked voice shrieked.
A man—round, wheezing, dressed in gaudy silks—waddled into view. His face contorted in rage as he spotted Nyx.
"Vael… thorn…" the man gasped between gulps of air. "How dare you step into my estate! Have you lost your mind, boy?! Do you have a death wish?!"
Spit flew from his mouth like a sputtering fountain.
Nyx didn't respond. He just stared at the man with the calm gaze of a predator eyeing meat. Then—
"Blink."
In a flash, he was beside the noble, blade pressed to the trembling man's neck.
"Vincent. Oh, Vincent..." Nyx purred, voice cold and casual. "Sending your black-robed little bitches to my home? That was bold. Want me to reunite you?"
Vincent paled, his bravado cracking.
"D-Don't be stupid, boy!" he spat. "If you kill me, the kingdom will come for you! You'll die in the gutter, like the mongrel you are!"
Nyx smirked.
"Don't worry, Vincy. I'll send your buddies after you soon. Enjoy the head start, yeah?"
He grabbed Vincent's collar.
"Oh—and say hi to Luci for me."
*slice*
Vincent's head fell, eyes still wide with disbelief. Nyx caught it by the hair, casually slinging it to his side as he walked toward the front.
A crowd of guards and maids stood frozen, blocking his path with blades raised—barely.
Nyx raised his voice, cold and clear.
"I've already killed the ones responsible. I've got no interest in innocent blood." He stepped forward. "But get in my way, and you'll be just another stain on the floor."
They parted like the sea. Not daring to look at him in the eye.
[That's it?]
"Not even close," Nyx replied, walking out. "That bastard wasn't even a proper pawn. Just a fat little puppet."
[…Are you collecting heads now?]
Nyx grinned darkly.
"Just wait." Nyx said as he left the bloodbath he left behind.
---
Next morning.
The trio—Valon, Samantha, and Ruby—made their way through the bustling streets toward their usual meeting spot. Nyx had invited them for a post-hunt celebration, but the city square was unusually crowded.
People clustered around something near the central pole.
"What's with the mob?" Valon grumbled.
He followed their gazes—then stopped.
A severed head hung from the pole, roped tight around the chin. On the forehead, in black ink, the words:
"I Was a Dick."
"Pfft… What the hell? Who's out here with public execution kinks?" Valon laughed, amused as hell. He shrugged and moved on.
Samantha, however, froze.
Her mind snapped back to Nyx's words the day before:
"Perk up your ears. You're going to hear one hell of a story tomorrow morning."
Her stomach turned, she knew and probably not only her.
They reached the inn—and found it louder than a tavern at midnight. People crammed inside, all jabbering about the news like rabid birds
"You hear? Whole damn manor got torched!"
"Blood everywhere. They say Lord Vincent's head was found outside the gates!"
"Some mage must've done it. No way this was normal."
"No. No, it wasn't magic. I heard it was a revenge thing. Real personal."
Everyone had a version. Some close to the truth. Some pure fantasy.
And then Nyx walked in his casual demeanor with a grin on his face.
"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked, voice smooth as he dropped into a chair. His eyes locked on Samantha.
She didn't smile back. She just stared at him, eyes narrowed—not in judgment, but something heavier.
She was seeing him differently now. Not as a noble. Not even as a mage. But as something else entirely.
Nyx leaned back, that signature grin plastered across his face.
"Am I that attractive?" he asked, eyes locked on Samantha.
But she didn't reply. She just kept staring—something unreadable flickering behind her usually steady gaze.
For once, Nyx felt... a little thrown off. Then, finally, Samantha blinked and broke her silence.
"Are you okay?"
The question was so unexpected, it hit him like a slap. He paused, just about to answer, maybe even deflect with a joke—but the inn's door slammed open with a bang loud enough to snap everyone to attention.
A squad of guards stormed in, fully armed and ready for war.
And behind them, a man stepped in with practiced arrogance—clearly their leader. He walked straight toward their group, his boots thudding like a countdown, stopping just a step away from the table.
His eyes locked on Nyx, sharp and burning with unspoken rage.
"Nyx Vaelthorn," he barked, voice echoing across the now-silent inn, "you are under arrest for high treason—defiling the authority of the crown and murdering a noble."
As soon as the words fell, the tavern turned dead quiet. Even the drunks were wide-eyed now.
Nyx blinked. Then turned, slowly, to face the armored man fully.
"What?" he said innocently, his voice high with faux surprise. "Me? Nooo, you must have the wrong guy, Mister Dog. I'm barely strong enough to swat a fly, let alone kill a noble."
He gave a sly side-glance, eyes glinting with mischief.
"Unless… you've gone senile. That it?"
The man's jaw clenched as Nyx stepped forward, casual as ever. Nyx's grin widened.
"So, Mister Dog, sure you got the name right this time?"
The officer growled, biting back the insult he clearly wanted to spit. Instead, he straightened his posture and barked out:
"If you do not comply, we will treat your resistance as open retaliation. And we will use force, Nyx Vaelthorn."
Nyx paused, then chuckled.
"…Fine, I'll come."
The air in the room shifted slightly. Eyebrows rose– That was unexpected. But Nyx wasn't done.
"Just remember," he added, voice cool and razor-sharp, "if you can't prove your claims… well, I might retaliate too. With force, of course."
He turned toward the group—Valon looking stunned, Ruby unsure, Samantha staring like she wanted to stop time.
"Sorry guys," Nyx said with a wink. "Let's hunt tomorrow. Seems like this mutt's dragging me off for some royal treatment today."