Chapter 12 — Symphony for the Condemned

A few weeks had passed since the purchase of the twins. Ada and Ren were about to have breakfast in the spacious dining hall of their mansion.

“Lady Schubert, breakfast is ready,” announced one of the maids as she began serving.

“Come on, Mia. I already told you—you can just call me Ada. I even removed your obedience seals.”

“I’m sorry, miss. Master Ren insisted on it,” she replied with a slight bow.

“Well… if Ren said so, I guess it’s fine,” Ada said, returning her a knowing smile.

“You two sure know how to enjoy your mornings, while the whole city’s in chaos…” said a familiar voice as she entered with an elegant stride, placing a newspaper on the table.

“Miss Ada, I’m sorry… huff, huff… I tried to get here before Miss Diana, but my leg is still recovering,” said the other maid, slightly out of breath.

“Don’t apologize, Nia. And Diana hardly needs an introduction.”

“Just take care of yourself, alright?”

The two sisters nodded and quietly left, closing the door behind them.

“So, what surprise do you have for us today, oh magnificent Diana?” Ren asked, picking up the paper. Ada leaned closer to read with him.

“Look at the front page of the Night Raven… you’re on it,” she said with a playful tone.

“‘Renowned adventurer ambushed and killed along with his clanmates.’”

Below it, an illustration showed Roman’s face in his hideout, alongside his henchmen.

“‘The mysterious killer left behind a black lotus at the scene, along with a note that read: Soon the truth will be revealed, and filth will no longer hide beneath the rug.’”

“For now, we haven’t drawn too much attention, but we need to be careful… they could start suspecting Diana,” Ren warned.

“Don’t worry, Master Ren. No one suspects me.”

“And with Roman, we’ve already taken down five slavers this week…”

“One in Rin and Mia’s village, two at Tulius Port, one in Lumius,” Diana said, pointing at a map spread across the table. “And Roman, here in the city.”

“Yeah… now all that’s left is the head of the snake,” Ada murmured. “I’ll probably need to show up at the guild in the next few days.”

“When something like this happens, they always summon the SSS-ranked adventurers.”

“Yes… even though the mission is already complete, they’ll surely want to tighten security,” Ren said, slowly rotating the cup in his hands.

A moment of silence followed his words. The aroma of tea lingered in the air. The morning light couldn’t erase what they had done in the shadows.

The night before…

Heavy rain poured down over Urus.

Its sound drowned the city, as if the world itself was trying not to hear what was about to happen.

Ren stood in front of Roman’s hideout door.

He knew he had to be there that night.
He knew because Diana had Roman’s schedule down to the smallest detail—a special client was coming to inspect the new “merchandise.”

He stepped forward and knocked on the door, following the pattern she had taught him.

A peephole snapped open.

“What’s the password?”

“There is no password tonight…” Phantom replied with absolute calm.

The door opened fully, and he saw Diana on the other side. She wore the mask of Opera, hiding her face… frost-white hair, a black suit.

Beside her, the guard lay on the ground, carefully placed so as not to draw attention. His neck twisted at an unnatural angle.

He hadn’t screamed. Diana hadn’t given him the chance.

“I see the mask suits you perfectly,” Prima said calmly.

“It’s stylish… Shame it doesn’t give me any fancy powers.”

“Keeping your identity hidden is the greatest power you can have,” Ren replied, composed.

The girls nodded without another word.

“The rest still playing cards?” he asked.

“Yes, Master. They’re the first line of defense.”

“But Roman has two more with him…”

“And there are also the viscount’s guards—Pedro Éclair’s men.”

“I believe he came looking for a young demi-human girl for his… you know, nightly games.”

“Then we’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

Phantom turned his head slightly.

“Prima, watch the entrance. Sonata will handle freeing the slaves and getting them out through the safe route. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” both replied in unison, bowing their heads with respect.

“Good. Sonata—go.”

The hooded girl slipped into the shadows, as if the darkness itself had embraced her.

Descending to the first floor, Phantom saw them.

Five assassins. Playing cards. Unaware that this would be their final hand.

He stopped at the threshold, shrouded in shadow. He drew his katana.

A faint breeze swept through the room.
The cards scattered into the air, as if pushed by something unseen.

“…What was that…?”

That was all one of them managed to say… before the sharp TAC of a katana sliding back into its sheath echoed in the room.

“Dimensional Slash… Death Path,” Phantom whispered, stepping slowly down the stairs.

Time stopped in the room.

Heads began to slide from shoulders. Falling in slow motion. Each body slumped into place, still seated.

Not a single drop of blood. The cold of the cut had cauterized every wound.

A perfect execution. Clean. Silent.

The last two guards had already been eliminated by Sonata. As quiet as death itself. 

Not a sound.

In the slave chamber, Roman was speaking with his regular buyer. Viscount Pedro Éclair, who was leisurely walking past the cages, peering inside.

Their conversation halted when they both noticed it. The sudden drop in temperature.

“You think I’m some kind of idiot?” Éclair snapped.

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s nothing here… Is this some Ministry of Justice setup?” he barked, drawing his sword.

“What the hell are you saying? I brought over thirty new slaves today…”

Roman turned toward the cages.
But they were empty.

Broken collars.
Unlocked gates.
Not a single soul in sight.

Only the echo of abandonment.

“What the hell is going on…?”

And then… they felt it.

Frost began to spread across the floor.

Slow. Silent. Impossible.

“…Is this… ice?”

“I knew it! This is a trap! Guards!” Éclair screamed.

No response.
Only silence.
Cold. Grave-like.

“Don’t bother. No one’s coming to help you,” said a firm voice from the shadows.

A severed head rolled to Roman’s feet. The eyes were still open.

The slaver stumbled backward.

“D-Dammit… who the hell are you?!”

Phantom emerged from the doorway, katana already drawn.

“Your final judgment.”

And with that, he muttered:

“Silent Winter.”

A single slash.
Invisible.
Freezing.

A black lotus bloomed from Roman’s chest. He collapsed without resistance. The ice had sealed his body before his mind could grasp that he was already dead.

Éclair dropped to his knees, trembling.

“Please! I—I had nothing to do with this! I can give you whatever you want! Power, women, money—”

“I work for the Ministry of Justice! I’m an important man!”

Phantom looked at him the way one examines a document sealed in blood.

“You’re wrong.”

“You’re just as guilty as he was.”

“Where there are buyers… there will always be chains.”

“No demand, no supply.”

“And you didn’t buy out of need. You bought because you could.”

With the same fluid motion, his katana traced a subtle arc through the air.

Éclair collapsed. Without a sound.

“Sonata,” Phantom called, his blade already sheathed. “Take everything of value. In gold.”

“It’ll help the freed slaves start new lives… in another region. Free.”

“Yes, my lord,” came Diana’s voice from the shadows.

Phantom pulled out a white calling card.

On one side, the mask of Opera.

On the other, a hand-written phrase:

“Soon the truth will be revealed, and filth will no longer hide beneath the rug.”