Chapter 09 - Ambush

“INTRUDER!!!”

The moment the shout rang through the halls, both Ranya and I snapped to attention.
But strangely, the Witch—Lilith—remained seated, unbothered, almost amused.

The once peaceful palace had erupted into utter chaos.

"Kill the intruders!"
"Catch them—!"

—CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!—
“Hiaa…!!”
—SHING! CLANG! SCRAANG!—
“Yes…!!”
—TING! TING! TING!—

“Watch out! Assassin’s arrows…!”
—TING! TING! TING!—

“Hold the line! Arrows incoming!!”
—CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!—
—SHING! CLANG! SCRAANG!—

The night air was filled with the thunder of armored boots, the clash of steel on steel, and shouted orders laced with desperation. Shadows of guards raced through corridors, sealing exits and reinforcing flanks. Torchlight flickered wildly with each gust of motion.

From a distance, a muffled explosion echoed—magic? A triggered trap?

The tension was palpable.

The palace was no longer a sanctuary—
—it had become a battlefield.

Without wasting another second, I sprinted toward the armor rack.

“Can you protect me for a few seconds?” I asked Lilith while preparing my exo-parts.

She smiled faintly, flicking her fingers in a lazy, fluid motion—gesturing from top to bottom like she was brushing dust from the air.

“Done.” she said casually.

A dome of translucent magic shimmered to life around me, shielding me from any outside threat as I began the rapid installation.

I was a bit speechless at Lilith's casual display, but it wasn’t the time to question it. This was an emergency.

I turned to Ranya.
“Defeat anyone suspicious. Don’t hold back. If it’s a threat—kill.”

She nodded without hesitation, stepping back into the shadows.
As she slipped on her devil mask, her cold voice replied,
“Roger.”
Then—she vanished.

I returned to my task. Once the installation was complete and the exo was running smoothly, I reached into the spatial bag and pulled out my weapon.

A heavy, reinforced iron shovel.

It felt… familiar in my hands.
Oddly so.

No… it wasn’t my familiarity.
It was something from the memory fragments.
Someone else’s battlefield.
But now, it felt like mine.

Seeing me take the shovel and give it a few test swings, the Witch chuckled softly.
“Not a sword, dagger, spear, or shield… but an iron shovel. You really are interesting, my prince.”

I glanced away, feeling a little awkward under her amused gaze.
“I’m… not allowed to wield those things yet,” I muttered, focusing on adjusting my grip.

“Oh… is that so?” she said while twirling a strange stick that had appeared in her hand—who knows from where.
A few moments later, I heard the sound of someone collapsing—twice.

When I turned toward the noise, I saw two assassins lying unconscious on the floor, their weapons still clutched in hand.

Confused but not about to question it, I took out a bundle of rope from my bag and began tying them up tightly.

“Never mind,” the Witch said, watching lazily. “They’re under an illusion spell.”

“Just in case,” I replied, finishing the knots. Once secured, I dragged them to a corner—somewhere they wouldn’t roll around if things got chaotic.

And sure enough, the Witch suddenly stood up, brushing off her dress with a sigh.
“Hah… as I thought, this is a bit troublesome. Sorry, I’ll be gone for a while, my prince. Will you be okay on your own?”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. But after a brief pause, I gathered myself and nodded.
“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.”

She smiled at me, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
“Okay… be careful, alright?”
Then, just like that—she vanished from my sight.

I stared at the spot she’d just been, the lingering traces of magic still flickering in the air.
“Gifted, huh…” I muttered, watching the light fade.

“But it seems like I can learn and apply it to rune magic,” I thought, still staring at the spot where she had stood just moments ago.

Even while my mind wandered to magic theory, I didn’t let my guard down. My senses stayed sharp—trained by both instinct and routine.

And sure enough, not long after she left…
Uninvited guests returned.

"Five of them... skilled assassins," I whispered internally.

I could feel them clearly—my instincts flared up automatically, alerting me to their presence.

But their formation...

"Strange... This isn’t how mercenary assassins move.”
“No… this is more like a trained military squad.”

They weren’t improvising.
They moved as one—a unit with calculated precision.

Three archers took the backline, one knee down, the other foot planted at a perfect 90-degree angle. Their bows were steady. Their aim, unwavering.

At the front stood two knife-wielders—clearly guards for the archers. Their posture was defensive, forming a protective barrier, their eyes constantly scanning.

“This isn’t a silent hit job.”
“This is a tactical strike.”

I exhaled slowly.

“If this is the next trial… then let’s begin.”

As soon as they loosed their arrows—thwip, thwip, thwip!—I twisted my body, dodging all three with razor-sharp instinct.

I spun on my heel, steel shovel now gripped like a weapon forged in war.

My body lifted slightly, and just as the momentum peaked, I activated the first rune—[Fast].
Mana surged through the rune circuits embedded in my exo-armor.
—ZTTT!
My body twisted at lightning speed. The iron shovel in my hand now spun like a deadly buzzsaw.
Right before release, I activated the second rune—[Weight].
The metal projectile became far heavier… and deadlier.
WOOOOSH!!
The throw tore through the air. The shovel danced through the sky, spinning like a murderous saw blade.
Moments later—
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
BRUGHH!!
Two front-line guards were struck directly—their bodies flung back, their chests torn open.
The one in the center... was cleaved in half, from chest to waist.

The shovel didn’t stop.

BOOOM!
Dust exploded into the air. The wall shook violently from the impact.
The remaining archers froze in place—eyes wide, breaths caught in their throats.

I stared at the crater in the stone wall where my shovel had struck.
Smoke curled from the fracture. The weapon—my trusted shovel—was gone, lost to the shadows of the night.

“Damn it!! My special shovel!” I muttered in frustration, my jaw clenched tight.

But I had no time to grieve.

The enemy was still standing—still shocked.

I wouldn't waste the moment.

In a blink, I grabbed the kitchen knives I had stashed earlier.
—Thwish! Thwish! Thwish!—

Three flashes of steel flew through the air.
—STAB! STAB! STAB!—

They hit their mark, embedding cleanly into the necks of two frozen archers.

They collapsed instantly—silently.

Why didn’t I capture them?

Because from the moment I saw their formation, I knew.

They weren’t ordinary assassins.
They moved too well—too coordinated.
This was a trained strike team.

And I couldn’t afford to take chances.

I turned back to my fallen enemies—three dead, two dying. It was over.

After ensuring the dying ones wouldn’t survive—eliminating them swiftly—the room fell silent once again.

The only sounds that remained were the faint echoes of the battle and the steady rhythm of my breath.

The intruders were no longer a threat, but the silence in my room felt heavy.