Chapter 15: The Enchantress’s Revelation

The man, who had remained perfectly still in the corner, felt a jolt of alarm. He simply could not fathom how he had been exposed.

“Invisibly cloaked without the aid of any cover, you must be a Blessed One of the ‘Assassin’ class, wouldn’t you say?” The Duchess mused, her arms casually folded, speaking as if to herself, utterly devoid of tension.

After a brief hesitation, the man finally dispelled his ability. He materialized from the corner.

“Madam,” he stated, “it seems you are no ordinary person.”

He was clad in dark, agile nightwear, a mask obscuring his face. This concealed attire rarely proved necessary for him. As a Blessed One of the ‘Assassin’ class, he possessed the supernatural ability of invisibility.

Indeed, just as the Duchess had surmised, he was an Eighth-Tier ‘Wanderer’ of the ‘Assassin’ class, endowed with low-level stealth capabilities.

He could erase his own presence, causing others to overlook his existence entirely. This allowed him to achieve his aim of perfect concealment.

However, at his current rank, flawless stealth was only achievable when he remained absolutely motionless in ambush. The moment he stirred, even slightly, anyone with a keen sense would immediately detect his presence.

This ability was perfectly suited for ambushes. He had successfully hunted over thirty targets using it, never once failing.

“Operating alone, then? You must be a professional assassin from the Dark Mourning Brotherhood,” the Duchess stated, her gaze carefully assessing him.

On the Eastern Continent, only three organizations boasted Blessed Ones of the ‘Assassin’ class. These included the Holy Assassins, affiliated with the Imperial Church; the Shadow Labyrinth, which meticulously trained legions of killers for the great southern nation, the Kingdom of Death; and finally, the continent’s largest transnational assassin organization, the Dark Mourning Brotherhood.

The Duchess knew well that the first two organizations operated as state-sanctioned assassin forces. They would never undertake an assassination mission with such a paltry display of strength, typically deploying an entire squad for any operation.

Therefore, the only remaining possibility was the Dark Mourning Brotherhood. Their assassins held no fixed allegiances, operating purely for monetary gain.

“Who hired you?” the Duchess finally inquired.

“Since Madam can deduce my origins, you must surely be aware of our code,” the assassin replied, his eyes locked onto the Duchess. “If I were to break that code, the next target my organization sends its assassins after would be me.”

“Very well, then,” the Duchess said, her eyes narrowing into a smile. “It seems I will have to pry the information from your lips myself.”

The assassin’s senses instantly sharpened. When he had accepted this assignment, he had believed his target to be nothing more than an ordinary noblewoman. He never anticipated that she would not only expose his ambush but also deduce his origins, even going so far as to attempt to turn the tables on him.

The only plausible explanation was that this woman, too, was a Blessed One of some unknown class.

He immediately forced himself to regain his composure. The room offered no ordinary windows, only a high skylight that necessitated a ladder to reach. Once the doorway was sealed, escape for anyone trapped inside would become virtually impossible. This strategic advantage was precisely why he had chosen this particular room for the assassination.

Yet, the Duchess had already positioned herself directly in front of the door. Should he attempt to use a grappling hook to scale the skylight and flee, he would undoubtedly expose a fatal vulnerability for her to exploit.

Given the circumstances, regardless of the Duchess’s true identity or power, he had no choice but to brace himself and engage her head-on.

He advanced two steps, then with a swift flick of his right wrist, he launched the throwing dagger clutched in his hand.

Blessed Ones of the ‘Assassin’ class received a unique blessing when employing projectile weapons. Be it throwing knives, bows and crossbows, or even blow darts, a modest amount of practice allowed them to effortlessly achieve pinpoint accuracy within their effective range.

This time, however, his dagger missed its mark. The Duchess evaded with an almost imperceptible shift, allowing the thrown blade to whistle past her neck and embed itself into the door with a thud.

Simultaneously, the Duchess took a single step forward, advancing towards the assassin.

The assassin, however, did not cease his assault. Even as his right hand released the first dagger, his left swept across the weapon belt at his waist. A second blade instantly materialized in his grip.

In this practiced manner, he launched two more daggers in quick succession, each aimed at a distinct location.

Yet, the Duchess merely approached him with unhurried grace. She preemptively executed subtle evasive maneuvers, allowing each dagger to harmlessly skim past her body. It was as if she were performing an exquisite, peculiar dance, gradually drawing closer to her partner.

For the assassin, her “dance partner,” internal alarm bells were now clanging wildly. The Duchess’s movements weren’t particularly agile, yet they were unsettlingly uncanny. Each dodge seemed to anticipate his aim, seizing the initiative as if she knew precisely where he would strike next.

Finally, he crossed his arms and unleashed a simultaneous throw of two daggers. One was aimed at her throat, the other at her heart.

Concurrently, he lowered his stance and charged directly at the Duchess. With a flick of his wrists, hidden sleeve blades sprang forth from his cuffs. He intended for his blades to follow her movements, whether she dodged left or right.

In an astonishing move, the Duchess chose to spring straight upwards. In mid-air, she arched her supple waist and executed a graceful backflip, effortlessly evading the thrown daggers.

The assassin was ecstatic. A person falling from the air found it nearly impossible to execute significant evasive maneuvers. This, he realized, was his prime opportunity to strike a killing blow.

He lunged, fiercely thrusting his sleeve blade towards the spot where the Duchess was about to land.

Yet, his sharp blade ultimately failed to find its prey. The Duchess, having merely jumped, astonishingly ascended rapidly as if defying gravity. She soared upwards, nearing the ceiling, and then simply hovered there.

Then, under his utterly bewildered gaze, the hovering Duchess underwent a startling transformation. A pair of bat-like, inky-black membranous wings sprouted from her back, and two horns emerged from her forehead. Beneath the hem of her long gown, a slender tail with a peach-shaped tip extended.

In this transformed state, the Duchess’s figure was eerily identical to the succubi of folklore—demons said to infiltrate mortal dreams at night, siphoning away their life essence.

“‘Witch’ — Sixth-Tier, the Enchantress,” the Duchess announced, her voice a melodic purr as she hovered mid-air, her gaze fixed on the assassin. “Do you comprehend what this signifies?”

The Duchess was, in fact, a witch. Her ability to discern the hidden assassin, and to anticipate his dagger-throwing patterns, stemmed from her precognitive power. She had sensed her own impending death in advance.

While her level of precognition wasn’t potent enough to manifest clear visions, it allowed specific parts of her body to preemptively register the agony of impending injury. The moment she had settled into the room, she had foreseen a future where daggers pierced her vital organs.

It was by discerning the precise directions of these foreseen attacks that she had deduced the assassin’s hidden presence.

The assassin’s face paled dramatically.

For Blessed Ones of every pathway, the ascent from the Seventh-Tier to the Sixth-Tier represented a qualitative leap in power. From this tier onward, the bodies or even the souls of most Blessed Ones would begin to manifest characteristics of demonic creatures.

A Sixth-Tier against an Eighth-Tier was a staggering disparity of two full tiers, separated further by the formidable thresholds of both mid-tier and low-tier advancements.

“I surrender,” the assassin declared, wisely raising both hands. There was no sense in sacrificing his life for a mission based on such gravely inaccurate intelligence.

“I appreciate a sensible individual,” the Duchess purred, a smile gracing her lips as she gracefully descended from the air. She landed directly before the assassin, then reached out a hand to gently caress his cheek. The man remained utterly motionless, paralyzed by fear.

“However,” the Duchess continued, her gaze fixed on the assassin’s eyes, “surrender merely signifies a cessation of resistance. For me, that is far from sufficient.”

The instant her words faded, the assassin was overcome by a sudden, profound dizziness.

His rational mind screamed that he had fallen victim to a mental assault. Yet, that fleeting spark of reason was swiftly and utterly extinguished.

In his mesmerized eyes, the succubus-like woman radiated an utterly irresistible allure. He found himself compelled to offer her everything he possessed.

This was the ‘Enchantment’ ability, a power belonging to the ‘Witch’ pathway’s Sixth-Tier ‘Enchantress.’ It could be activated through mere eye contact, and its potency intensified with more intimate physical touch.

Blessed Ones of an equivalent or higher tier might have possessed the strength to break free from such enchantment. However, this Eighth-Tier assassin, having been directly touched by her, stood absolutely no chance of resisting.

In that very moment, the assassin became nothing more than the Duchess’s captive.