The assassin moved like liquid shadow—silent, precise, deadly.
Kael barely blocked the next strike, his dagger meeting cold steel. The force behind the attack sent a sharp vibration up his arm. This wasn't just skill. This was mastery.
Mira was already in motion. A blur of red and silver, her twin blades flashing as she struck.
Clang!
The Phantom twisted, dodging Mira's rapid slashes with unnatural speed. Not a single wasted movement.
Orin cursed. "They're toying with us."
Kael clenched his teeth. No. The Phantom was testing them.
A Battle of Equals
Kael lunged. Faster. Sharper. More precise. He needed to break the assassin's rhythm.
Their blades clashed in rapid succession—a deadly dance in the moonlit alley.
Mira struck low. The Phantom countered.
Kael aimed high. Blocked.
Then, with inhuman agility, the assassin flipped backward, landing soundlessly on the edge of a rooftop.
A cold voice echoed from behind the mask. "Impressive."
Mira growled. "Stop running and fight."
The Phantom tilted their head. "You're not ready."
Kael's grip tightened. Ready for what?
A Cryptic Warning
The Phantom sheathed one dagger, slowly stepping back into the shadows. They were leaving.
Orin tensed. "Where do you think you're going?"
The Phantom paused. Then, their voice turned almost… amused.
"You think you are the hunter, Kael Veyne. But you are still the prey."
Then, in an instant—they vanished.
Kael's pulse pounded. This wasn't over.
Mira exhaled sharply. "What the hell does that mean?"
Orin shook his head. "I don't know… but I don't like it."
Kael sheathed his blade, eyes still locked on the empty rooftop.
The Syndicate wasn't just sending assassins to kill him.
They were playing a bigger game.
And he was walking right into it.