Author Note
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Ass: Eliton_create
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KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sharp knocks echoed like thunder in the silent dawn.
Clint opened his eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling of his dormitory.
A discreet clock beside his bed read four in the morning.
Emylle was already up,
As if she had predicted the exact moment she would be needed.
When she opened the door, she was greeted by Alucard,
Impeccable as always, even at such an unlikely hour.
"Hello, Emylle. I have a scheduled appointment with Clint. We need to leave now. Could you wake him for me?"
"One moment, please, sir," she answered, closing the door with near-theatrical grace.
She approached the bed.
Clint looked at her with a heavy gaze, as if begging for five more minutes of sleep.
"My lord… Alucard is waiting. He said you need to leave immediately."
Clint let out a tired sigh.
"Let him in."
Alucard entered the room with the same calmness as a shadow creeping down a hallway.
"Did it really have to be this early?" Clint asked while splashing his face with cold water from the basin beside the bed.
"The person I want you to meet is extremely busy. This is the best time to get a moment of his attention. He already prepared the carriage."
The carriage waiting for them outside the academy was unlike any Clint had ever seen,
Luxurious, unmarked by crests.
Silent… but deadly in its elegance.
The journey was long and quiet. Clint nearly succumbed to sleep a few times.
Emylle was beside him, alert, but silent as ever.
When they arrived, they stood in front of what appeared to be an ordinary weapon shop.
The clerk greeted them with theatrical enthusiasm:
"Well, well, young warriors! What can I offer? An enchanted sword? Armor bathed in silver?"
Alucard wasted no time with pleasantries.
"I want a weapon cursed by the moon."
The clerk's smile vanished.
Without a word, he led them to the back. A hidden compartment opened in the floor, revealing a spiral staircase.
They descended.
The atmosphere changed with each step downward.
The walls were covered in runes, forgotten inscriptions, glowing magic circles.
At the end of the tunnel, a black iron door opened into a round chamber.
The air was thick, almost solid.
Four men were already seated in the chairs.
Alucard took his seat without hesitation. Clint, cautious but composed, followed his lead.
"So you've decided to visit us, Alucard," said one of the men, older, eyes sharp as a blade. "And you brought a guest."
"This is Clint Ravenhart, the new heir to Duke Leonard of the Kingdom of Kamira."
Another man spoke up, letting out a dry laugh.
"So it's true. Darius's disciple is really in Mabel. That bastard nearly killed me once. I still carry the scar to remind me."
"Seems like my master is quite... popular," Clint replied, tone unchanged.
"Popular? He's a damned demon. Maybe Archmage Velkan could face him… but to defeat him, we'd need the gods themselves."
Ivan, the oldest and most commanding presence, finally spoke:
"So you're the most famous bastard in Kamira. If Alucard brought you here, there must be a reason.
We are the White Dragons. Our information network spans the entire continent.
We deal in everything: mercenaries, assassinations, political sabotage."
"I've been watching you personally. I would've contacted you eventually,
But Alucard sped up the process for me," Ivan said, eyes locked on Clint.
"Watching me? Why would you do that?" Clint asked, direct and unflinching.
"Because you have potential. And it seems you're going to need us," Ivan replied.
"As a welcome gift, I'll offer you information. Any information you want."
Clint stared at him.
His gaze was sharp as razors.
"Let's say… I wanted to get rid of someone very, very important.
How would I do that?"
Silence fell thick over the room.
Ivan narrowed his eyes, a subtle smile forming.
"Have you ever heard of the Blade of Death?"
"He's a myth," Clint replied.
"A myth to most…" Ivan agreed.
"He's taken down minor kings, powerful nobles… even the uncle of the young man beside you.
No one knows his face. No one lives to tell the tale.
His price is high.
And he chooses his targets."
Alucard cut in sharply:
"There was no need to mention my uncle."
Clint ignored his friend's discomfort.
"How can I hire him?"
Ivan folded his hands on the table.
"You don't hire him. He decides if you're worth it.
I'll arrange a visit.
Consider it… an investment."
Clint stood as he spoke:
"How much do you know about me?"
Ivan responded almost formally:
"We know more than you imagine," he laughed afterward.
"Can I know what you know about me?" Clint asked, intrigued.
Ivan shook his head.
"You can't.
Your file is sealed,
Unless you pay the right price.
And right now, you're not in a position to afford it."
Clint and Alucard were dismissed.
Before they left, Ivan offered a final warning:
"The Kingdom of Kamira is about to change, Clint.
Good luck."
---
The return trip to the capital was swift.
By the time they arrived at the academy, the sun was already setting.
"Princess Iris reserved the entire third floor of the dining hall for herself and another guest," Alucard commented, frowning.
"Probably some marquis or duke. Just another political move."
Clint merely smirked with disdain.
"That guest is probably me."
He began climbing the stairs without looking back.
Rumors flew through the corridors like hungry crows.
"He invited her to his room."
"They spent the night together."
"Clint is in love with Iris of Kamira."
"They might even get married..."
At the back of the empty dining hall, only one table was occupied.
A single candelabra lit the princess's face,
Her gaze fixed on Clint, As if she knew everything he was,
And everything he could become.
Clint approached.
"I hope you give me a satisfying answer, Clint Ravenhart."
He stopped in front of the table, his voice low, yet as cutting as steel.
"I came to give you the only answer possible."
"And what would that be?"
Clint pulled out the chair and sat down with elegance.
His eyes were cold.
His shoulders relaxed.
As if seated before a chessboard, not a princess.
"I..."