Chapter 250: Assassin’s Siege

Luke sat with his face lit by the pale glow of the system screen hovering before him. The list of skills scrolled past like phantoms made of light, but his decision was already made.

“All for the plan.”

[You have acquired the Profession Skill: Acid Blood Arrow]

It didn’t matter. None of these skills had been part of his careful calculations, and nothing was going to pull him off course now. Days of preparation had been poured into the scheme, and Luke wasn’t the kind of man to throw it all away on a whim. Whatever skill he picked was secondary. At that moment, instinct was enough. Whether it was bloodlust scratching at his soul or something darker clawing for dominance, he didn’t care. Instinct had kept him alive this long, and he wasn’t about to stop feeding the beast inside.

There was an old proverb about two wolves inside every person, one good and one evil, and the one you fed would grow strong enough to devour the other. If that was true, then he had just fed the bad wolf… or maybe the bad cat.

A crooked smile touched his lips. He lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth and chewed slowly, letting the flavor dissolve on his tongue while his mind retraced the blueprint of his plan, escape routes, pressure points, targets, timing. A symphony of survival etched into memory.

Then the harmony cracked. A shiver ran across his skin. From the counter, Layla’s potted plant screamed with violent emotion. He had never felt something like this without direct contact. His bond with nature was deepening, no doubt, but to feel that kind of rage at a distance? It was like the plant was shouting at him.

“What the hell’s going on with you?” he muttered.

Before he could make sense of it, another warning detonated inside his skull. His demonic perception roared like thunder. Fast. Deadly. Already in range. Luke didn’t think. He threw himself to the ground. A heartbeat later, the world erupted.

The table he had been eating at exploded into splinters as a barrage of quarrels ripped through it, blasting the wood apart in a storm of shrapnel. The floor shook with the violence, shards scattering across the room.

Luke rolled aside and sprang to his feet, eyes narrowing, searching. In the far corner of the mess hall, a figure stood holding a monstrous crossbow shaped like a revolver. From the force of that shot, Luke knew one thing: if he hadn’t moved, he would already be dead.

“Good reflexes.” The voice was pure scorn, cold as iron. The figure stepped into the light.

“Kruger.”

Luke’s pulse surged, but his expression stayed ice-cold. The Phantom Assassin himself, black garb, skull mask, and an aura so silent it seemed to devour the air around him. The weapon in his hand dissolved into smoke, replaced by twin daggers gleaming like a predator’s fangs.

“I barely remembered your face. Up close… disappointing. This is the so-called most dangerous man here? At least killing you will be entertaining.”

Luke arched a brow, drawing his kukris from his inventory with deliberate slowness. “You think a lot of yourself.”

“When you’re crawling, begging me to spare you, I’ll enjoy watching your face break.”

Luke didn’t need to see beneath the mask. He knew Kruger was smiling. The assassin didn’t waste another breath. He dashed forward, blades raised to carve. Luke didn’t retreat. Steel met steel in a thunderous clash, sparks bursting into the air. The echo of the strike rattled the empty hall, and in moments the room was chaos.

Chairs toppled, tables splintered, the air thick with the shriek of blades colliding. Every strike carried lethal weight, but Luke’s mind stayed razor sharp. He wasn’t fighting only to block, he was studying. He needed to catch the rhythm of Kruger’s assault, to feel the instant when the assassin would trigger his teleport. Because Luke knew he would.

Kruger spun mid-strike and lashed out with a kick. Before Luke could counter, the assassin vanished in a warped flash. But Luke had been waiting for it. He pivoted on his heel, kukris raised, and caught the assassin materializing behind him. Steel shrieked as blades collided again. Kruger’s eyes widened beneath the mask, surprise flashing there. He hadn’t expected to be read that easily. He stumbled back a step.

Luke didn’t waste the opening. A kukri whipped from his hand like lightning. Kruger stepped forward to intercept, but then stopped abruptly, his body freezing for an instant before dissolving into nothing and teleporting away.That was when it hit Luke, sharp and clear. He has to be standing still to teleport.

Kruger reappeared clinging to the ceiling, then dropped like a predator with both daggers poised. Luke rolled aside, yanked out another kukri, and hurled it with brutal force, pumping stamina into the throw. The assassin slashed it aside midair, but Luke was already pulling the first kukri back with magnetism, curving it around for a second strike, slow and deceptive.

Kruger froze, trying to teleport again. Exactly as expected. The assassin blinked behind him. Luke was already moving. His bow snapped into existence, string drawn, and an arrow flew the instant he turned.

“Ah!” Kruger’s scream tore through the hall as the arrow punched into his leg.

Luke pressed forward without hesitation. The bow vanished as he closed the gap, hand flashing to a throwing knife in its holster. No time to reclaim the kukris. He seized Kruger by the shoulder, pinning him in place, and drove a savage flurry of stabs into his torso.

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“You can’t teleport while I’m holding you, can you?!”

Kruger’s daggers scraped dangerously close, but Luke released in time, slipping just out of reach.

“Drink steel with your own blood.”

He hurled the knife with crushing force. Kruger managed to deflect, but that instant was all Luke needed. He surged forward, planted both feet, and unleashed a double kick that sent Kruger crashing through the wooden wall, splintering it apart and flinging the assassin out into the street.

The kukris whirled back into Luke’s hands with a pull of magnetism. He vaulted through the wreckage after him.

“Looks like you’re not so great up close,” Luke said.

Kruger staggered upright, laughter spilling through the mask even as he ripped the arrow from his leg, blood streaming down his thigh.

“Killing you inside would’ve been too quick. Hunting you out here will be so much more fun.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed, then shifted past Kruger.

The street. Soldiers. An ocean of them. Fighters pouring from alleys, archers perched on rooftops, mages with staves already raised. An entire army waiting in perfect formation, bows drawn, spells burning in their palms. Luke was surrounded.

“Now you see just how fucked you are.” Kruger leveled his crossbow, laughter edged with venom. “The whole Safe Zone is crawling with hunters. All for you.”

Luke’s jaw tightened. “Can’t handle me alone?”