Later that evening, Serenil stood in the courtyard. Moonlight bathed the cobblestones in silver. Lyssia, Nyara, and Reia knelt before him in a perfect line.
He studied them quietly. "Tell me," he said, voice low, "now that you've been freed… will you try to kill me again?"
None of them answered.
Serenil's tone turned sharp. "If even one of you holds that thought in your heart… I will know."
Voidrender shimmered into his hand, its aura cloaking the courtyard in a chilling veil. The anti-magic field flared, snuffing out nearby torchlight.
Each girl flinched as space around Serenil cracked, veins of violet energy fracturing the air like shattered glass.
"Let me be clear," Serenil said, his voice cold and emotionless. "If you try… I will not hesitate. You will vanish, not just from this world, but from existence itself. Body, mind, soul—erased. That is the nature of Voidrender."
Reia trembled, eyes wide with fear.
Nyara lowered her head, clutching her skirt.
Lyssia raised her hand slowly, then pressed her forehead to the ground. "We won't. We swear it. We owe you our lives… and our freedom."
Nyara and Reia followed, heads bowed deeply.
"We belong to you," Nyara whispered.
"For as long as you'll keep us," Reia added, voice small.
Serenil nodded once, then let the energy fade. The cracks in the air healed.
He sealed Voidrender.
"Good," he said softly. "Then your training begins tomorrow."
He turned and walked away, the sound of his boots echoing behind him.
Behind him, three assassins—now shadows bound by name and will—remained kneeling beneath the moonlight, reborn as something more than what they were.