The silence that enveloped Isabelle's room after Hayjin's words was heavy, almost suffocating. The echo of the boy's promise continued to vibrate between the dark wood-paneled walls and the heavy velvet drapes, but the terror lingering in the housekeeper's eyes showed no sign of fully dissipating.
Isabelle remained seated on the Persian rug, her knees still clutched tightly to her chest. Her breath, initially shallow and ragged, gradually began to even out into a series of trembling sighs. She brought her slender fingers to her face, wiping away the remaining traces of tears moistening her flushed cheeks with rigid, nervous motions. She was desperately trying to recompose herself, to reclaim that facade of rigor and composure that had always defined her, but every time she closed her eyes, the sensation of cold steel piercing her lungs made the hair on her arms stand on end.
Hayjin, who remained kneeling in front of her, did not rush her. He understood what she was going through all too well. He knew the feeling of depersonalization and the suffocating sense of emptiness that followed death only too intimately.
"Take this," Hayjin murmured in a low, gentle voice, reaching toward the nightstand beside the bed to grab a crystal carafe and pour fresh water into a glass. He handed it to her with extreme care. "Drink slowly. It'll help clear your throat."
Isabelle looked at the glass as if it were a foreign object, then reached out with trembling fingers and took it. Their fingertips brushed for an instant, and Hayjin could feel how ice-cold her skin still was. She brought the crystal to her lips and took a small sip, then another, closing her eyes as the cool liquid slid down her throat.
"Thank you..." Isabelle whispered, her voice still cracked but1 noticeably more stable than a few minutes prior. She leaned her back against the side of the bed, letting her arms fall onto her knees. "It's... it's simply absurd, Hayjin. All of this goes beyond any law of magic or logic I have ever studied. To die... and then wake up at the market as if nothing happened... It's a nightmare I can't wake up from."
"I know," Hayjin replied, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her, his gaze fixed on his hands. "It's the exact same feeling I had the first time. You feel like you're losing your mind, asking yourself if what you experienced was real or just a horrific hallucination. But it's real, Isabelle. The death we felt was real. And the assassin who killed us is real."
At those words, Hayjin's mind kicked into gear. While Isabelle tried to compose herself and calm down, gathering her thoughts to stabilize her heartbeat, the boy began to dig deep into his own mind, attempting to piece together the puzzle of that butchery.
"Who the fuck was that?" Hayjin asked himself, clenching his fists against the fabric of his trousers. "Who walked into my room with that much confidence? Who knew exactly where I slept, what time I'd be alone, and how to move through the castle without making a sound?"
His first thought, the most immediate one born of instinct, naturally went to the plague that had hounded him since his arrival in this world: the Cult of the Brand.
"Was it them? Another hitman sent by those zealots to eliminate me?"
Hayjin froze, reflecting deeply on every single moment spent in that room before the blade sliced his throat.
He retraced the sequence of events: the pillow pressed over his face, the two stabs to the abdomen, the splintered table, Isabelle's arrival... and then the physical sensation of the assassin sitting atop him, caressing his hair while whispering for him to stay still.
A crucial detail resurfacing in his memory caused his eyes to widen.
"No... Wait. It couldn't have been the Cult of the Brand."
Instinctively, he brought his left hand to the side of his neck, brushing the skin where the curse rested.
"The Brand didn't pulse."
It was a strange rule Hayjin had come to realize, a constant he had learned the hard way since his very first clashes with members of that dark sect. Every single time an adept of the Cult, a demon, or a creature steeped in the Brand's energy was in his immediate vicinity, the scar on his neck would begin to burn and throb with a painful, rhythmic pulse, warning him of impending danger. It had happened in limbo, it had happened in the dungeon with Zhilian, and it had even happened in the meadow when the mysterious girl forced him to dance.
But that night, in his bedroom at the royal castle, the Brand had remained entirely silent. No burning, no pulsing, no reaction to dark energy. The assassin who had slaughtered him in his bed possessed not a trace of the Cult's magic.
"If the Brand didn't react... it means whoever attacked me has nothing to do with the cult," Hayjin deduced, his heart accelerating at the revelation. "It was an ordinary person. Or rather... a human being lacking cult energy. And that means only one thing: the assassin came from inside the castle."
The realization sent a shiver of pure paranoia down his spine. The enemy wasn't a monster from outside, nor a demon lurking in the shadows of the mountains. It was someone walking his very corridors, someone eating at his very table, someone wearing the robes of the kingdom of Opes.
Hayjin raised his gaze, fixing it on Isabelle as she finished the last sip of water.
"Isabelle," Hayjin said, breaking the room's silence. "I have to go. I need to move and figure out who is behind this before it's too late. Do you want to come with me?"
Isabelle remained quiet for a few seconds, staring at the bottom of the crystal glass. Then she slowly shook her head, a tired but firm gesture.
"No..." she replied softly, setting the glass back on the nightstand. "I'd prefer to stay alone right now. I need to stay here, regain control of myself, and process everything you've told me. If I walked out now with my face like this, I'd draw everyone's attention in the palace."
She turned to look at him, and for the first time since this nightmare began, a spark of her usual determination resurfaced in her dark eyes.
"Don't worry about me," Isabelle added, lightly brushing his arm. "I'll stay inside my room. I'll lock the door and won't open it for anyone until you come back. So you'll have no trouble finding me when you need to."
Hayjin nodded, relieved by her answer. Knowing Isabelle would stay safe in a locked room lifted a massive weight off his chest.
"Alright," the boy said, getting back to his feet and checking the strap of his belt dagger. "Lock the deadbolt immediately once I leave. And don't open up for anyone, no matter what happens."
"I will," Isabelle promised.
Hayjin approached the door, turned the bronze handle, and stepped into the corridor, waiting for the precise moment he heard the double click of the lock from within before taking a single step away.
Once alone in the royal palace's silent gallery, Hayjin slid his hands into his trousers pockets and set off at a slow pace, his head bowed, analyzing every single stone of the floor.
He needed to carry out a cold, ruthless process of logical deduction, free from emotional bias.
"Let's analyze everyone present in the castle," he thought to himself, compiling a mental list of potential suspects. "Who could it have been?"
The first two names that came to mind were crossed off within a single microsecond.
"Wren and Zhilian are completely out of the question."
Wren was a little girl, possessing a pure soul and lacking the physical strength to overpower an adventurer in hand-to-hand combat. Thinking she could be the killer was simply impossible.
Zhilian, on the other hand, was the princess. She was the one who had taken him in, fought alongside him in the dungeon, and repeatedly proven that she cared for his life. Furthermore, if Zhilian wanted him dead, she wouldn't need to hide in the dark at night; she could have done it at any time during their training or missions.
Ruling out Wren and Zhilian, the circle of people present in the castle or who had access to it over the last twenty-four hours drastically narrowed to just three prime suspects:
Riko, Princess Wren's personal housekeeper.
Wilder, the elite royal knight who had recently arrived at the palace.
Arkon, one of the Great Sages of the kingdom of Opes.
Hayjin stopped in the middle of an arched entryway, gritting his teeth as he analyzed the three profiles.
"Riko..."
She was undoubtedly the person he suspected most. From the moment Hayjin set foot in the royal palace, Riko had done nothing to hide her deep disdain for him. She always looked at him with contempt, her cold, calculating eyes treating him like a plague or parasite that had stumbled into Princess Wren's court by mistake. Time and again she had eyed him with poorly concealed resentment, and her detached demeanor made her the perfect candidate for a ruthless executioner.
"However..." Hayjin reflected, taking a moment to evaluate the situation more objectively. "Just because she despises me openly doesn't automatically make her an assassin. She could simply be a snobbish noble who hates common adventurers. If I accuse her right away or confront her directly without proof, I'd risk coming up empty-handed and exposing myself if the culprit turns out to be someone else."
That left the other two: Wilder and Arkon.
"Wilder and Sage Arkon..." Hayjin continued his inner monologue. "Both have treated me with extreme courtesy since I arrived. Wilder even gave me training advice, and Arkon showed himself to be wise and helpful. But the truth is, they're the ones I know least. I know nothing about Sage Arkon and very little about Wilder; I don't know their true motives or who they really work for behind their facade of loyalty to the kingdom."
His decision was made accordingly.
"I have to investigate the least suspected ones first. If I can verify Wilder and Arkon's positions and clear them of doubt, I can narrow the field down to Riko with absolute certainty without risking an unfair accusation or walking into a trap."
With a clear plan of action in mind, Hayjin decided his first target would be Wilder. The knight had arrived at the castle very recently, and his presence coincided terrifyingly with the start of this new cycle of death.
Hayjin headed toward the lower floors of the palace, making his way to the large entrance foyer and the main courtyard where the royal guards usually posted.
He didn't have to search for long.
As soon as he descended the grand stone staircase leading to the inner courtyard of the entrance, Hayjin immediately spotted Wilder's imposing figure. The knight was wearing his finely decorated blue-and-silver armor, his long dark cloak falling elegantly over his shoulders. He was standing near the massive bronze doors, exchanging formal pleasantries and a slight bow with two sentries.
Hayjin immediately flattened himself against the shadow of a massive marble pillar, holding his breath.
"There he is..." Hayjin thought, his pupils constricting as he tracked the man's every movement.
Wilder dismissed the guards with a genial smile, then turned and walked at a calm, measured pace toward the side corridor leading to the secondary staircases of the north wing the area reserved for guest dignitaries and the sages of the kingdom.
Hayjin waited for Wilder to round the corner before moving. He decided to shadow him.
Moving with the stealth learned during his days as an adventurer, Hayjin followed Wilder at a discreet distance. He utilized every alcove, tapestry hanging from the walls, and stone recess to avoid being seen, always keeping a gap of at least twenty meters between himself and his target.
Wilder climbed the winding stone staircase, heading toward the rooms above the castle. His footsteps fell lightly on the floor, exhibiting remarkable body control for a man of his stature.
Hayjin followed like a shadow, ascending the steps one floor at a time until he reached the upper corridor of the west wing.
Reaching the top landing, Hayjin peered slightly from behind the statue of an ancient king of Opes.
A little further down the window-lit gallery, Wilder had stopped before a large carved ebony door. The door opened, and emerging from the room was the solemn figure of Sage Arkon. The elderly sage wore his long golden ceremonial robes and bore the crystal amulet symbolic of his office around his neck.
Hayjin gritted his teeth, leaning his ear toward their direction to catch every single word of their conversation.
"Ah, Wilder," Sage Arkon said, offering a benevolent smile toward the young knight. "Already active, I see. I hope the quarters we assigned you are to your liking."
Wilder brought his right hand to his chest, making a small bow of respect toward the old sage. "Your quarters are far too luxurious for a simple wandering knight, Sage Arkon," Wilder replied in an open, warm, and relaxed tone. "I thank you immensely for the support the kingdom of Opes and the Council of Sages have shown me."
Arkon gestured dismissively, reassuring him. "You must not thank me at all, my boy," Arkon said in a deep, fatherly voice. "The services you have rendered to the kingdom and the protection you offer little Princess Wren are invaluable. You may stay in the castle as long as you wish. Our home is your home."
Wilder smiled, shaking his head modestly. "You are far too generous, Sage," Wilder replied. "However, I do not intend to take undue advantage of your kindness. I will stay just long enough to rest before setting off on the next adventure. There are many regions that still require my sword, and I am not one to sit idle for long."
"I understand your spirit, young knight," Arkon nodded. "Then I wish you a good rest. Should you need anything at all, you know where to find me."
"Thank you again, Sage Arkon."
The two took their leave with a brief bow. Arkon stepped back inside his room, closing the door, while Wilder remained alone in the corridor for a few seconds, adjusting his sword belt.
Then, without hesitation, Wilder resumed walking, heading toward an even more remote and isolated wing of the building.
Hayjin, hidden behind the statue, waited for the knight to move off before stepping out from his hiding place.
"He's heading toward the old east walkway Wren mentioned..." Hayjin thought, frowning. "That area is nearly abandoned at this hour. Why is he going there?"
Without wasting time, Hayjin trailed him stealthily, stepping on the balls of his boots to avoid making the slightest creak.
Wilder advanced down an increasingly narrow and gloomy corridor where sunlight penetrated only through slender slits in the stone. He turned right, heading into a hidden nook of the castle where the rough stone walls formed a dead-end alcove with no further exits.
Hayjin approached with his adrenaline spiking. Reaching the mouth of the corner, he flattened against the stone wall, his hand trembling on instinct. "Now to see what he's up to..."
Hayjin took a deep breath and leaned quickly around the corner to check the recess.
The corridor was completely empty.
"What...?!" Hayjin's eyes widened as he stared into the tight space. There were no doors, no obvious secret passages. Wilder had simply vanished into thin air. "Where the fuck did he go...?!"
He didn't even have time to finish the thought.
From above him or perhaps from the shadow cast by the vaulted ceiling a figure moved with speed inconceivable to a human eye.
Before Hayjin could even attempt to draw his weapon or take a step back, two steel arms wrapped around him from behind with surgical precision. One hand locked his right shoulder while the other applied instant pressure to the junction of his neck and jaw.
CRACK!
It was not a bone break, but a flawless submission maneuver. Hayjin's vision immediately went black, oxygen was cut off instantly, and his muscle strength vanished in a fraction of a second. Hayjin was grabbed and knocked cold by Wilder before he could utter a single groan.
Hayjin's senses slowly resurfaced, accompanied by a heavy tingling in his neck and a lightheaded sensation in his head.
The darkness dissolved, and the boy found himself sitting on the floor, his back resting against the cool stone wall of the corridor.
In front of him, kneeling with an amused and extremely relaxed expression, was Wilder. The knight was waving his hand slightly in front of Hayjin's face to see if he had fully regained consciousness.
"Hey, kid... you back? I didn't squeeze too hard, did I?"
Hayjin blinked blankly, bringing a hand to his neck and massaging the sore area. His heart was hammering in his chest from shock.
Wilder flashed a teasing smile, resting his arms on his knees. "You know," Wilder quipped with a light, playful tone, "you could have just said 'hi' instead of tailing me halfway across the castle in secret!"
Hayjin's jaw dropped, his face turning red with embarrassment and frustration at being caught so easily by someone he considered a potential suspect.
"I... I wasn't following you..." Hayjin tried to lie, but his voice sounded utterly unconvincing.
Wilder chuckled heartily, shaking his head. He extended his large right hand to help Hayjin up. "Come on, up you get. I'm not blind,I heard you the second we reached Sage Arkon's landing," Wilder said, grabbing Hayjin's arm and pulling him to his feet with disarming ease.
Hayjin dusted himself off, adjusting his jacket while maintaining a safe distance from the man. His mind was still on high alert, but Wilder's behavior was so open and devoid of hostility that it was hard to believe he was an assassin who had come to slit his throat in bed.
Wilder adjusted his armor's pauldron and brought a hand to his chest, introducing himself once again with a solemn yet genial air. "Anyway, I don't think we ever officially introduced ourselves properly. I'm Wilder, Princess Wren's personal royal knight."
Hayjin stared at him for a moment, his mind working in overdrive. With slight hesitation wary, yet aware he mustn't blow his cover he extended his hand to shake the knight's. "I'm Hayjin..." the boy said, pausing a second before completing the sentence. "I'm Princess Zhilian's personal knight."
Wilder tilted his head, impressed. "Ah, Princess Zhilian's! I've heard a great deal about you and her extraordinary mind. And I must say, it's a great honor to meet her chosen knight."
Hayjin gave a brief nod, not quite sure how to continue the conversation without betraying his true intentions.
Wilder glanced around the bare, quiet corridor, then turned his gaze back to Hayjin with a friendly, curious expression.
"Listen, Hayjin," Wilder proposed naturally. "How about we take a stroll outside the castle to chat and get to know each other better? Seems to me we'll be colleagues here at court for quite a while, and I'd really enjoy catching up away from the formality of these halls."
The request caught Hayjin entirely off guard.
"A walk outside the castle...?" Hayjin thought instantly, paranoia resurfacing ruthlessly. "Does he want to take me somewhere isolated to finish the job he started tonight?! Or is it really just a friendly invitation?"
The dilemma gnawed at him from within. If he refused outright, he might raise Wilder's suspicions or miss a unique opportunity to study him up close and clear all doubts. On the other hand, stepping outside the protected walls of the palace with an elite knight who had just knocked him out in a second was a massive risk.
Hayjin weighed his options, then took a long breath. Hesitantly, Hayjin agreed.
"Alright..." Hayjin said, looking Wilder straight in the eye to catch the slightest crack in his expression. "I accept. But... let's try not to go too far from the castle, alright? I have work to attend to later for Princess Zhilian."
Wilder smiled radiantly, giving him a friendly yet vigorous pat on the shoulder that nearly made Hayjin stumble. "Haha! Don't worry at all, kid!" Wilder reassured him with a wave of his hand. "Just a walk around the outer gardens and along the first rampart. Nothing too long, I promise. Let's go!"
Wilder turned and set off at a brisk pace toward the exit, gesturing for him to follow. Hayjin lagged a step behind, bringing a hand to his belt to ensure his dagger was securely in place. With his heart hammering in his chest and his senses stretched taut as violin strings, he fell in behind the knight, ready for any eventuality as the two headed toward the exterior of Opes fortress.