Chapter 15 — The Dagger Without Purpose

Monteverde’s mansion was silent.

Too silent.

Phantom crouched atop the highest branch of a withered tree, hidden in the shadows of dawn. His breathing was almost imperceptible, as if even the air itself dared not betray him.

“The best way to draw a rabbit out of its burrow…” he whispered as he descended softly into the mansion’s garden, “…is with a carrot for bait.”

He strolled leisurely between the ornamental bushes, the back of his katana tracing along the stone path, a soft, metallic sound, barely audible.

Except to a rabbit.

The first kunai flew with pinpoint precision.

Phantom deflected it with a slight flick of his wrist.

“It’s a beautiful night to dance with you,” he murmured, subtly opening a dimensional rift with a sweep of his blade.

Then he felt it. Behind him.

He spun just in time to intercept her. A black flash. A curved dagger aimed at his back.

He sidestepped with a twist and used her own momentum to shove her into the rift.

Both vanished.

The scene changed in an instant. They were no longer at the mansion.

Now the sky opened above them, a mist-covered clearing surrounded by dense forest.

No witnesses.
No interruptions.

“No one’s coming to save you here. And we can fight without holding back,” said Phantom, sheathing his katana with precision, like a promise.

The assassin stood across from him, her long ears barely visible under the lowered hood. Dressed in black, cloaked in silence, a shadow in human form.

She said nothing.

Her eyes were an emotionless void. No hate. No fear.

Only purpose.

Phantom exhaled slowly.

“Alright then… show me what the Count keeps as his final line of defense.”

She didn’t reply.

She simply attacked.

In a puff of gray smoke, her figure split into three identical silhouettes. The clones spun around him like animated shadows, hurling kunai from every angle.

Phantom didn’t even blink.

He deflected each projectile with his katana, never losing his footing.

A clean cut here. A precise deflection there.

“Nice distraction,” he muttered, shifting his blade to his back as if preparing something “but it only works on amateurs.”

At that moment, the sharp clink of metal rang out behind him.

A curved blade grazed his neck. Phantom moved—just enough.

“Backstabs won’t work on me,” he said calmly.

A pause.

The masked figure stepped back, dagger still in hand.

“Who… are you? What do you want?”

“To you, I’m just a carrot.” His voice was steady. “But my name… is Phantom.”

Without warning, he threw down a smoke bomb.

Thick darkness swallowed the clearing—trees, ground, and sky lost in a swirling haze. The only sound… the quiet clash of steel against steel.

A subtle rhythm, like blades locked in a silent waltz.

“Persistent little thing, aren’t you…” whispered a voice from the shadows.

“Please…” Phantom swung his katana in a wide arc, “Don’t insult me.”

A freezing gust swept through the fog in a single breath.

The cold expanded like a shockwave, blowing away the haze as if winter itself had descended on the clearing.

The moonlight returned.

Mirai stood tall, panting. Her hood had fallen. Her gaze sharper now.

More alert.

Phantom hadn’t even moved from his stance.

“Tell me, Night Rabbit… what do you dream of?”

“Weapons don’t dream,” she replied, summoning a short sword. “They only obey.”

Her aura darkened—unnatural, almost cursed.
Her pupils dilated.
Her teeth… sharp as those of a beast thirsty for blood.

“Increase Speed. Silent Move. Death Whisper. Great Speed Boost. Death Blessing. Bleeding Blade. Poison Blade. Great Lethality.”

She rattled off the names without pause, like a machine initiating a kill protocol.

“Quite the list of buffs,” Phantom said calmly. “Impressive, no doubt.”

But she didn’t wait for praise.

She vanished.

“Gale of Death!” Her voice came filtered through sheer velocity.

Phantom barely managed to block.

Invisible cuts sliced through the air like gusts of razor wind.

His blade parried what it could but slashes began to tear through his clothes, his arms, even a clean line across his chest.

“A storm of silent blades…” he murmured in awe, staggering. “Magnificent.”

One knee hit the ground. His breathing grew heavy.

“Poison…?” he coughed, touching his chest.

“Now I see why Monteverde paid so much for you.”

She advanced with lethal precision, ready to finish the job.

“My duty is to protect Count Monteverde,” she said flatly. “That is my only purpose.”

“But… is that what you want?” Phantom asked, unmoving.

“A former defender of Albus, now reduced to someone else’s weapon?”

She froze.
Silence.

“That’s long gone… and even if I wanted to disobey, I can’t,” she said bitterly. “The collar won’t allow it.”

Phantom slowly stood.

“This collar?”

With a flick of his hand, he tossed a metal ring at her feet.

It hit the ground with a sharp clang.

Her hands shot to her neck on instinct.

Nothing.

“You… when did you—?”

“While you were unleashing your storm,” Phantom said quietly. “Cost me a few wounds, but it was worth it.”

She had no reply. For the first time, her sword trembled in her grip.

“I know you don’t enjoy being Monteverde’s pet. I can see it in your eyes.”

He turned away, unrushed, with the calm of a man who had already made up his mind.

“In three days, I’ll attack his mansion. I’ll claim his head… for all those whose futures were stolen by men like him.”

He dropped a brooch shaped like a musical note. It shimmered briefly on the frozen grass.

“If there’s still anything left of the Albus guardian inside you… join me.”

“But if you stand in my way… I won’t hold back.”

He opened a rift in space. Just before stepping through, he paused.

“You have until then to decide whether you want to remain a dagger without purpose…
or join a cause worth fighting for.”

And with that—he vanished.

Leaving behind nothing but frost… and an impossible choice.