The Greatest Assassin Gets Reincarnated in Tensura

Dwargon—the unshakable nation of iron, technology, and unyielding power. Deep beneath the Canaat Mountains, within its massive underground fortress, stood its heart—Central, the capital.

It had stood strong for a thousand years, its gates repelling enemies, its defenses unmatched.

But the greatest threats are never from outside.

They grow within.

In the shadows of its mighty halls, whispers of treason spread.

And the target?

The Founder. The Hero King. The Legend himself—Guran Dwargo.

The king who built Dwargon. The warrior who defended it from endless invasions. The ruler who had forged it into the strongest fortress in the West.

But now, his own people plotted against him.

A faction of nobles, military officers, and greedy merchants sought to overthrow him, believing his time was over. They spoke of new leadership, of a future without the Hero King.

They were careful. They were secretive.

But not careful enough.

For in the unseen world, Arion's spies had already learned everything.

And now, the Eminence in the Shadows would move.

Far from Dwargon, in the heart of an invisible domain, Arion watched.

Before him, a projection flickered, revealing everything—the plots, the traitors, the secret meetings.

Arion leaned back, golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

"They think they can betray a Hero?" He chuckled. "How arrogant."

Beside him, Velzard smirked, sipping her wine.

"I didn't realize we were so popular," she teased. "Everyone wants to make a move, but they forget one thing."

"The shadows always see first," Testarossa purred, her red eyes glowing.

Ultima twirled her dagger. "Can I go? Just a little bloodshed?"

Carrera cracked her knuckles, grinning like a predator. "A rebellion? Oh, I love crushing those."

But Arion only raised his hand.

The air grew cold.

From the deepest shadows of the room, four figures emerged.

Draped in black. Faces hidden. Presence like death itself.

The Eminence in the Shadows.

They all knelt. "Your will shall be done, my Lord."

And then—they vanished.

In the depths of Dwargon, beneath the grand halls of the capital, a secret meeting took place.

A long table stretched before a group of high-ranking nobles, generals, and powerful merchants.

"Tomorrow is the day." A noble leaned forward, his voice full of confidence. "The people respect Guran Dwargo, but they fear change. We must be the ones to bring it."

A general grunted. "Our forces inside the army are ready. Once we take the palace, the king will have no choice but to surrender."

A merchant smirked. "And once he's gone, we control the economy. A new age for Dwargon begins."

Laughter filled the room.

They thought they were safe.

They thought they were hidden.

But the shadows had already arrived.

Death in the Darkness

A whisper.

A shiver in the air.

The torches flickered.

A noble turned his head—only to find nothing.

His hands trembled. Something was here.

Then—the lights went out.

"Foolish."

The voice came from everywhere.

And then—they struck.

From the ceilings, from the walls, from the shadows themselves, black-clad figures emerged.

Their blades gleamed once—and then disappeared into flesh.

A general tried to shout—his throat was already gone.

A noble ran for the door—his legs never moved again.

A merchant pleaded for mercy—only for a silent blade to answer.

Blood spilled without sound.

The traitors collapsed, one by one, unable to even see their executioners.

And then—silence.

A single noble, trembling, barely breathing, looked around.

The others were dead.

A masked assassin stepped before him, tilting their head.

"No last words?"

The noble gasped. "P-Please—"

A whisper.

A final breath.

And then—darkness.

When morning came, Dwargon awoke to a chilling sight.

The heads of the conspirators were displayed at the palace gates.

A single note lay before them.

Written in an elegant, ominous script.

"Treachery shall not be tolerated. The shadows are watching."

When Guran Dwargo received the report, he simply smirked.

"A reminder," he murmured. "That some heroes are never alone."

And from that day forward, no one in Dwargon dared to plot treason again.

----_____-----

The Kingdom of Englassia—a beacon of civilization, power, and wealth.

Its royal capital stood grand, encased in towering walls of white stone, rising against the sky like an impenetrable fortress.

Two massive gates—the only ways in or out.

Three layers of security.

Identity checks.

Body searches.

Interrogations.

Even the mightiest travelers hesitated before attempting entry.

Yet, for all its security, for all its strength—it was not untouchable.

For shadows could slip through cracks no one else could see.

A plot had emerged.

Not from mere rebels. Not from petty thieves or rogue mercenaries.

But from within.

High-ranking nobles, military leaders, corrupt officials— all working together.

Their goal?

To seize Englassia, overthrow the royal family, and claim the capital as their own.

Their plan was intricate, nearly flawless.

But they had made one fatal mistake.

They thought no one was watching.

But Arion's spies had already uncovered everything.

And now, the Eminence in the Shadows would move.

But this time, they would not go alone.

This time, Arion sent the Black Legion and the Yellow Legion.

The city would drown in silence.

And the betrayers would never see the dawn.

Inside the royal palace, the air was thick with tension.

The King, unaware of the lurking danger, sat upon his throne.

His loyal guards stood watch, unaware that half of them were already bought.

And beyond these walls, in the shadowy corridors of nobility, traitors whispered.

"Tomorrow, the city will belong to us."

"The gates will open, and our forces will pour in."

"The King won't even realize it until his throat is slit."

They laughed, drank, and celebrated their victory—before it had even begun.

But then—

The torches flickered.

The laughter stopped.

And the shadows moved.

First strike— the Black Legion.

They moved without sound, their black cloaks melting into the darkness.

The traitorous guards at the city gates never saw the blades.

One moment, they stood.

The next—they were gone.

The bodies were moved before they even hit the ground.

Not a single cry.

Not a single drop of blood left behind.

The gates remained closed.

Their plan had failed before it had even begun.

The traitorous nobles met in a hidden chamber, deep beneath the palace.

Surrounded by layers of security, hidden behind enchanted walls, they believed they were safe.

Then—

A whisper.

A chill ran down their spines.

One noble stood up, eyes wide.

"D-Did you hear that?"

Another noble laughed. "You're paranoid. No one knows about this place—"

A hand covered his mouth.

A dagger slid across his throat.

The nobles watched in horror as figures in yellow cloaks emerged from the walls themselves.

They did not speak.

They did not hesitate.

They only executed.

One by one, the traitors fell, their ambitions dying with them.

No alarm was raised.

No resistance was met.

By the time the meeting chamber doors opened, the only thing left was silence.

And a single note, written in elegant, perfect script.

"Treason is met with death. The shadows are watching."

At the break of dawn, the King awoke to news that chilled him to his core.

The coup had never even begun.

All traitorous officials were missing.

The nobles who had plotted his downfall?

Dead.

Their bodies had vanished as if they had never existed.

Only one thing remained.

A black dagger, stabbed into the throne room floor.

And engraved into the blade—

"We are the unseen. The Eminence in the Shadows."

Far away, within a hidden domain, Arion watched the city from his projection.

Velzard grinned, sipping her wine. "You have to admit, the theatrics are impressive."

Ultima laughed. "The Eminence in the Shadows rock!"

Testarossa smirked. "A thousand-year kingdom almost fell in a night… but in the end, the shadows stood victorious."

Carrera cracked her knuckles. "Kind of disappointed we didn't get to blow something up."

Diablo, standing in the corner, bowed.

"My Lord Arion, they are searching for us now."

Arion smiled.

"Let them search."

"They will never find what does not wish to be found."

And as Englassia rejoiced in its "miraculous salvation,"

The true rulers of the night vanished—

Leaving behind only whispers and legends.