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    The Midnight King’s gaze hardened.

    “I’m offering you the best deal you’ll ever get. You’ll be free to return to your universe without further interference. However, out of the seven of you, one will serve as my host. After that, I and the remaining six will cross over together, along with those waiting outside the castle, of course. Unless…” His voice deepened, the hint of amusement vanishing. “You’d rather not include them in the agreement. Personally, I don’t care.”

    Seven again.

    The word rang in Luke’s mind like a warped bell. Seven. What the hell was going on? Why wasn’t he part of that count? For a moment, he thought maybe the king had already chosen him as the host. But then it clicked, uncomfortably so. That wasn’t it. The Midnight King simply didn’t see him. It was as if Luke didn’t exist.

    A chill ran down his spine. The cold didn’t fade; it sank deeper, curling inside his chest like a living thing. His breathing grew louder inside the mask, muffled by the oppressive stillness of the hall. The air tasted of ancient dust and burnt magic. He moved without realizing it, eyes locked on the creature atop the throne. The archangel, or whatever it had once been, seemed too vast for any body to contain. The broken wings, shivered faintly with each word, their sound echoing against the stone.

    Luke clenched his fists. He had to be sure. Every instinct screamed at him to stay still, yet his curiosity clawed harder.

    Opening the suit’s interface, lines of glowing text unfolded before his eyes.

    [Acolyte Assassin’s Garb (Epic)

    Description: Crafted by the most skilled artisans of the Assassin Order and finished by the hands of Lakarion himself, the God of Assassination, this garb is a rare and special gift, granted only to those in whom the god sees true potential. It is more than clothing; it is a symbol of recognition, a mark that you have been chosen to walk a path beyond ordinary shadow. A step toward the true art of assassination.

    “My invitation still stands, Luke, ever since I gave you the mission to kill the Orc Lord. My hand remains extended. This item would have been your reward. Come to me, child… and I will make you what you were born to be. I will give you power.” – Lakarion.

    Enchantments:

    [Basic Shadow Camouflage (Rare)]: While the user remains still in low-light areas, the garb adapts to the surroundings, distorting their silhouette and dimming their presence.

    [Crowd Shadow (Ultra-Rare)]: When near a crowd, the garb can alter its pattern and texture to create the illusion of different clothing, allowing the wearer to blend seamlessly with others and disappear even under watchful eyes.

    [Iron Shadow Fabric (Ultra-Rare)]: Though extremely lightweight, this enchanted fabric offers protection comparable to iron armor. It preserves full mobility and flexibility without sacrificing defense. The name “Iron Shadow” reflects its nature: it is not solid iron but magically reinforced fabric that shields silently like an invisible iron shadow, blending strength and stealth in perfect harmony.

    [Shadow of Ignorance (Epic)]: As long as the assassin is not directly seen, their presence remains hidden from perception fields or magical detection. While not absolute against beings of great power or extreme sensitivity, it is a powerful tool for silent assassinations and deadly infiltrations.

    Requirement: Soulbound.]

    The bluish glow reflected in his pupils, and for a moment the world seemed to tighten around that hovering screen.

    Is that it? he thought. Could it be the garb’s enchantments all activating at once? Especially together with my Stealth skill?

    The idea flashed through his mind like an electric current. If he was right, the Midnight King couldn’t see him directly. He had to stay hidden, dissolved in the darkness, one with the shadow stretching across the hall.

    [Advanced Stealth (Rare)]: You’ve refined your natural stealth instincts, tuning your movement, breath, and posture until they operate on instinct alone. Your steps adapt to the terrain, your presence fades into the background, and your body instinctively avoids making noise, emitting scent, or producing detectable signals. Blending into your surroundings becomes second nature, allowing you to observe or approach targets with greater consistency and control.


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    By instinct, he stepped left, slow and measured, until the pillar and the darkness spilling from the ceiling swallowed him completely. His muscles locked, heart beating in a forced, unnatural silence. But there was a problem. If he kept the arrow trained on the monster and it noticed him, one glance would be enough to end them all.

    Evangeline, cast the damn spell when it steps away from the throne!

    The thought hammered through his skull with desperate clarity. Luke willed, with everything in him, that his intent might somehow pierce the silence, that Evangeline and the others might sense what he couldn’t say aloud. That they’d realize what he already had: the monster hadn’t counted him as someone it saw in the throne room.

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