Chapter 24 : The Golden Dot

​The blazing light from Princess Lyva’s palm was nearly blinding. Yet, to Vain, rooted behind her, the entire scene played out like a slow, macabre theater.

​He watched her dart forward like an arrow. In a fraction of a second, the assassin’s head froze solid the moment Lyva touched her.

​In that brief window, Vain realized the terrifying magnitude of the Princess's magic. But despite her power, she had made a simple tactical blunder—or perhaps it was just rotten luck.

​She had tunneled all her focus onto a single prey. It happened in the blink of an eye, but she forgot that the second assassin might be just as fast and lethal. Her plan was flawless, but she was fighting alone, dragging the dead weight of an unarmed ward.

​While the Princess savored her fleeting victory and caught her breath, alarm bells shrieked inside Vain’s skull.

​He tried to open his mouth to shout a warning. He tried to force his feet just one step forward. But his body—utterly devoid of combat instincts—betrayed him. His neural response was hopelessly sluggish against the blinding speed of the assassins' world.

​Before a single sound could escape his throat, darkness swallowed his peripheral vision.

​No footsteps.

​Just an arm, cold as death, coiling around his neck like a steel serpent. A rough, calloused hand clamped over his mouth with enough brutal force to crush his lips against his teeth.

​The sharp stench of rusted metal assaulted his nose.

​Just as Lyva began scanning the room for the second killer, Vain was yanked backward with brute force. They didn't retreat into the shadows or hide behind furniture. They stood right there, completely exposed in the corner of the hall.

​The assassin wrapped around Vain like a deadly viper, neutralizing his movements and rendering him completely paralyzed.

​For a split second, Vain caught a look that sent violent shudders down his spine. The gaze clearly stated: One move, and I’ll cleave your head in two.

​The assassin was desperate. Knowing she stood no chance in a fair fight against the Princess, she blitzed the boy. She gambled that the Princess would hesitate to attack if her ward was held hostage by the throat.

​In that nerve-wracking moment, the Princess spun around. Her eyes locked directly onto Vain’s.

​The killer tightened her grip on his throat, making every breath an agonizing chore. It was a silent ultimatum: one twitch, and his neck snaps.

​But what happened next defied all reason.

​The Princess couldn't see them!

​They were standing in plain sight, barely two meters away, with zero obstacles between them. Yet, she didn't notice them at all.

​The assassin was utterly baffled. Even though the Princess had turned her head squarely in their direction, her eyes just kept darting frantically around the hall, sweeping right over them as if they were thin air.

​Despair sank its claws into Vain’s heart. He was already reeling from the impossible speed of his capture, and now he had to watch the Princess look right through him without lifting a finger to help.

​The assassin milked this bizarre advantage for all it was worth. She remained dead silent, biding her time. She simply waited for the Princess to leave the room; after all, it was only natural to rush outside and search if your companion suddenly vanished.

​In suffocating silence and absolute focus, the killer stood petrified, tracking every micro-movement of the desperate girl before her.

​A miracle like this is logically impossible, she reasoned. There was a very real chance the Princess was faking it to lower her guard. If this panic is fake, then this Princess is a phenomenal actress who would make a terrifying assassin.

​Amidst her conflicting thoughts, the Princess suddenly dropped to her knees.

​The assassin was caught off guard. For a fleeting second, she considered exploiting this wide-open stance to launch a surprise attack.

​But she immediately slaughtered that idea when the Princess unleashed an earth-shattering scream.

​"Dammit!!!"

​It was a blood-curdling shriek. The assassin instantly knew the guards would swarm the room.

​And they did. Seconds later, no fewer than five heavily armed guards burst in.

​The killer realized that if the Princess’s plan had been a theatrical ruse to summon backup, it was diabolically lethal. Surviving a clash with the Princess alone was a lost cause; adding five armed men was a guaranteed death sentence.

​Heavy seconds ticked by. The guards stood frozen in sheer disbelief, seeing their nation's First Princess kneeling on the floor.

​Then, the Princess barked a decisive order that washed over the assassin’s heart like pure relief:

"Now!! Gather as many guards as you can, and search for the Protector's Guest!!"

​The guards scrambled out, fanning across the palace. Princess Lyva stood alone in the center of the room, glaring at the frozen corpse on the floor.

​In those highly charged seconds, Vain heard a muffled, rhythmic thumping—like the slow beat of war drums. It took him a moment to realize it was the assassin's heartbeat pressed flat against his back. It hammered with a violent intensity, betraying her hidden terror.

​The longer the Princess stared at the fallen comrade, the more the assassin tensed. She tightened her chokehold, silently begging the heavens that the Princess wouldn't crouch down and peel off the black mask.

​Finally, the Princess closed her eyes in helpless frustration. She made a split-second decision and sprinted out to join the search.

​The moment the heavy wooden door shut behind her with a muted thud, a long, deep sigh of relief escaped the assassin's chest…

​With the Princess gone, Vain surrendered entirely to his fate.

​Left alone with a professional killer, death was an inescapable certainty. He began to mentally prepare himself for the end, ready to "return anew" in silence.

​Yet, his analytical mind refused to shut down.

​Pulling off a cloaking trick right in front of the Princess was beyond the capabilities of these assassins. If they possessed such advanced magic, they would have used it from the start to infiltrate the room.

​Furthermore, the killer's sheer panic—betrayed by her racing heart—confirmed that this invisibility was completely out of her control.

​But what intrigued him most was the drastic contrast in sensation. The Princess's cloaking spell usually bathed him in a faint, tingling numbness. This time, it was profoundly unsettling.

​He felt as though he existed and didn't exist simultaneously. It felt less like he had turned invisible, and more like the entire world had faded away around him.

​He couldn't formulate a logical explanation, but that hardly mattered now.

​His only obsession was: What is this killer going to do next?

​❖ ❖ ❖

​The moment the Princess left, Vain was completely alone in the assassin's grasp.

​He was utterly powerless. Physical resistance was a naive pipe dream. Subconsciously, he had already accepted his grim fate, even wishing she would just end it with one swift, painless strike. Watching the door close behind the Princess was like watching his last glimmer of hope being swallowed by the dark.

​Heavy seconds dragged on.

​The assassin hadn’t budged an inch. Vain tried to anticipate her next move, but to no avail. She remained rigid in the same suffocating, defensive posture.

​What baffled him further was the dead silence cloaking the room. The echoing footsteps and clanking armor of the guards had completely faded into the distant corridors.

​The hall's perimeter was deserted. She had a golden opportunity to snuff out his life and escape.

​So, why was she waiting?

​Agonizing minutes crept by. Every passing second gnawed at the boy's sanity. He was being psychologically tortured.

​Despite knowing he was the primary target, his mind obsessed over what was delaying the execution. He was fully surrendered to dying, yet starving for answers.

​Amidst this maelstrom, he sensed the crushing pressure on his jaw ease considerably.

​At first, he assumed she had relaxed her grip because the threat was gone. Moving with excruciating slowness, he tilted his eyes toward her. Their position resembled a deadly back-hug; she stood behind him, wrapping him up, her left hand squeezing his jaw while her right hand remained free.

​With agonizing care, Vain managed to turn his head just enough to glimpse her masked features.

​He studied her face intently, surprised she made no effort to stop him. He kept his mouth shut, trying to memorize the contours of her face and estimate her height. He was practically certain these two killers were just maids from the palace; they shared the exact same build.

​But this cold analysis lasted only a few seconds before Vain noticed something that made his eyes widen in sheer horror.

​Why hasn't she killed me yet? What if she physically can't?

​Vain tilted his head further up to get a clearer view... and saw the one thing that answered all his questions at once.

​The assassin... was dead!

​He locked his gaze onto her eyes behind the mask. They were the eyes of a corpse. Pale, dull, and drowning in a desolate void, devoid of any living spark.

​The exact second his brain processed the truth, Vain jolted violently. He let out a deafening cry of terror, instinctively shoving her away with every ounce of strength he had.

​Her lifeless body slammed heavily into the wall as dead weight, then slid down to a seated position. She leaned against the wall, her drooping head directing a dead stare toward the floorboards.

​Vain stood paralyzed, trembling uncontrollably. His mind flatlined.

​Who did this? How? When? And why?

​A flood of questions crashed through his feverish mind, met only by deathly silence.

​Amidst this mental chaos, Vain suddenly remembered his hidden informant. He called out to the ancient spirit residing in his left eye: "Zeel!!"

​He bitterly wondered why Zeel hadn't intervened. Since he first set foot in the hall, the spirit hadn't uttered a single syllable. Despite their pact, Vain knew Zeel never meddled unless explicitly asked.

​"Zeel!!" he called again, urgency dripping from his tone.

​No response.

​Vain was certain the spirit was still inside his eyeball. Either Zeel was completely prevented from answering, or he was intentionally ignoring him.

​"Dammit!!" Vain cursed under his breath, grinding his teeth. Every inch of his being screamed to flee this cursed room immediately. But his logic sternly reminded him that these two corpses were his only clues to uncovering the true culprit.

​Yet, he lacked basic forensic skills, and his sole source of information chose the silent treatment.

​And time was mercilessly slipping away…

​More minutes bled away. It had been nearly ten minutes since the Princess departed.

​Vain’s bewilderment reached a fever pitch. He darted his eyes hysterically between the door and the bodies. He took a step toward the exit, then abruptly stopped.

​Walking out now meant running in an endless circle. He would never discover the mastermind. He would face death over and over with every new hit squad sent after him.

​He hastily retraced his steps, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He stood between the two lifeless bodies. He hesitated for a second before approaching the one that had been choking him—it was easier to inspect.

​He knelt beside her, extending his hand toward her head with excruciating slowness.

​Despite being utterly convinced she was dead, he reached a damning conclusion: absolutely nothing in this room adhered to logic. The corpse might explode or suddenly spring to life to sever his head.

​His trembling hand crept forward until it graced her head. He lifted it slowly, forcing his eyes to meet her dead stare.

​His racing heart began to settle once he was undeniably certain she was gone. But then, he noticed something bizarre.

​Her mask was pitch black to blend with the shadows. But right in the center of her forehead, a tiny, golden dot stood out!

​His intuition screamed this was no coincidence. To examine it properly, the boy dragged the body away from the dark corner and into the center of the hall, directly under the light.

​He squinted, and the sight was jarring: the dot had changed color from gold to brown!

​A creeping chill crawled over Vain’s flesh as a terrifying theory crystallized. He lifted the assassin’s head, zeroed in on the dot, and slowly pivoted her head toward the dark corner.

​He let go. The head dropped with a hollow thud.

​A complex mosaic of emotions painted his face: a chaotic blend of bewilderment, resignation, and bone-deep exhaustion.

​His theory was correct.

​The "dot" was actually a perfectly clean, straight hole drilling right through the center of her forehead and exiting the back of her skull. It was the undeniable cause of instantaneous death.

​It appeared golden at first because he was looking straight through the hole at the wall behind her. It turned brown in the center of the room because the hole framed the wooden floorboards.

​What truly plunged Vain into the abyss of despair was the horrifying realization that whoever killed her was in the room with them.

​The miraculous cloaking magic was likely their doing as well. Even though this intervention saved him from certain death, the gargantuan, terrifying gap in power chilled his blood.

​If this unseen entity were an enemy, Vain wouldn’t have been able to resist for even a fraction of a second. He would have been doomed to remain a prisoner in this room, reliving his own death for all eternity.

​Thus, for the very first time since losing his memories, a primal, ravenous thirst for power ignited within his soul.

​A power that would grant him the sheer might to confront these relentless crises and seize control of his own unknown destiny.