VENGEFUL SPIRIT

Asher moved through the city like a shadow, slipping through narrow alleys and over rooftops, his pulse still pounding from the failed assassination. He clenched his fists, his anger simmering beneath his skin.

Gideon Varas was still alive.

It had been so close. One more second, one more heartbeat, and the noble's life would have ended beneath his blade. But the approaching guards had forced Asher's hand. He had to retreat. For now.

He reached the edge of the city's merchant district, where the noise of drunken revelers faded into the hush of sleeping houses. He took a deep breath, grounding himself. Failure was not an option. He needed a new plan.

He headed toward an abandoned warehouse near the docks, a safe house he had secured weeks ago. Inside, the air was thick with dust, the wooden floor creaking beneath his boots. He lit a lantern, its dim glow flickering against the cracked walls.

His mind raced. Gideon was going to tighten his security after tonight. The noble would be paranoid, doubling his guards, hiding behind fortified walls. The next attempt would be even harder.

But not impossible.

Asher pulled out a worn piece of parchment—a map of Gideon's estate. He had studied it for weeks, memorizing every entrance, every blind spot. His target was untouchable in the city, but at home? That was a different story.

He needed more information.

And he knew exactly where to get it.

The next night, Asher found himself outside The Gilded Stag, an exclusive gambling hall where the city's elite indulged in their vices. It was also where many of Gideon's guards spent their nights, drinking away their wages.

Asher slipped inside, blending with the crowd. The air was thick with smoke and the clinking of gold coins. He scanned the room, searching for familiar faces. Then he spotted them—a small group of men gathered around a dice game, their laughter loud, their uniforms slightly disheveled.

Gideon's men.

Asher approached, keeping his posture relaxed, his expression casual. He slid into an empty seat near them, signaling for a drink. He listened as they talked, waiting for his opportunity.

"…Lord Varas nearly got himself killed last night," one of them muttered, shaking his head. "Damn assassin came out of nowhere."

"Word is, the boss is furious," another guard replied. "He's moving his meetings to the estate. No more public outings."

Asher hid a smirk behind his drink. That was exactly what he needed to hear.

Then, one of the guards—tall, broad-shouldered, and already half-drunk—turned toward him. "You new here? Haven't seen you before."

Asher met his gaze, offering a lazy smile. "First time. Thought I'd try my luck."

The guard chuckled. "Well, here's a tip—don't bet against Alden. The bastard cheats."

Laughter erupted around the table, and just like that, Asher was part of the conversation. He played along, losing a few hands on purpose, gaining their trust. And then, when their tongues were loose with drink, he steered the conversation back.

"So, what's this about your boss almost getting killed?" he asked, feigning curiosity.

One of the younger guards scoffed. "Some assassin tried to gut him outside the Silver Chalice. Almost got away with it too."

"Lord Varas is making changes," the broad-shouldered guard added. "We're doubling shifts at the estate. No one gets in without clearance."

"Any new routes in?" Asher asked, keeping his tone light. "I imagine the main gate's a nightmare."

The guards laughed again, not realizing the trap they were walking into.

"Main gate's locked up tighter than a nun's virtue," Alden said with a grin. "Only way in without raising hell is the old servant's passage."

"The one under the garden?" another guard asked.

Asher's mind sharpened. He had seen that passage on the estate's blueprints but hadn't been sure if it was still in use. Now he knew.

He played a few more hands, then made his excuses, slipping away before they could realize what he had learned.

Gideon Varas thought he was safe.

He was wrong.

Three nights later, Asher stood in the shadows outside Gideon's estate. The mansion loomed before him, its tall walls lined with guards, torches flickering along the perimeter.

But Asher wasn't interested in the walls. He had another way in.

He moved silently along the outer garden, where thick hedges cast deep shadows. He reached a stone path and knelt, fingers searching until he found the hidden latch. With a quiet click, the old servant's passage swung open, revealing a narrow tunnel leading beneath the estate.

Asher slipped inside, closing the entrance behind him. The tunnel smelled of damp earth and mildew, but it was empty. Forgotten.

He moved quickly, his footsteps light against the stone. The passage led to a small storeroom beneath the main house. He pushed open a wooden hatch, emerging into the lower halls.

The mansion was quiet, the corridors dimly lit by wall sconces. He moved with purpose, sticking to the shadows, avoiding the patrolling guards.

Gideon's chambers were on the second floor.

Asher ascended the servant's staircase, pausing at the top. Two guards stood outside the noble's door, their expressions bored but their hands resting on their weapons.

He needed a distraction.

Reaching into his belt, he pulled out a small pouch—fine black powder made from crushed herbs. He tossed it down the hall. The moment it hit the ground, it burst into a thick, irritating cloud.

The guards coughed, their eyes watering. One stumbled forward, trying to see through the haze. That was all Asher needed.

He struck fast, his dagger flashing in the dim light. One guard went down with a silent choke, blood spilling from his throat. The second turned, but Asher drove his blade into his chest before he could react.

The hallway was silent once more.

He wiped his dagger clean and pushed open the door.

Gideon was inside, sitting at a desk, a quill in hand. He looked up, eyes widening in shock.

"You—"

Asher was on him in a second, slamming him against the wall, his dagger pressing against his throat.

"You should have died three nights ago," Asher whispered. "Consider this my correction."

Gideon trembled, his arrogance gone. "Wait! I—I can pay you! Whatever you want!"

Asher's grip tightened. "I want my family back."

The noble swallowed hard. "I—I had no choice! It was an order! I was following—"

Asher froze. "Whose order?"

Gideon hesitated.

Asher pressed the blade harder. "Tell me, or I make it slow."

Gideon's breath was ragged. "The Grand Duke," he gasped. "He—he gave the command."

The words hit Asher like a hammer.

The Grand Duke. The most powerful man in the kingdom.

His true enemy had just revealed himself.

Asher's expression darkened.His revenge wasn't over.