"Tsk"
The agent stayed grounded. Hiding pain behind gritted teeth. His wounded arm burned. Each grip of his sword was a reminder.
Running wasn't an option.Not with the prince between him and the only exit.
I've got one shot. Shadow shift. If I can close distance while he's casting.
He'd used the technique three times in his life. It'd saved his life twice. Killed a Wyvern level mage once.
His master's voice echoed in memory. Displacement creates opening. Opening creates death. But it costs. Use it when certain.
The prince created flames again. Larger this time. Building in his right palm. His glare was now irritated than before.
Now. While he's focused on the spell.
The agent pulled deep from his mana core. Mana flooding pathways rarely used.
Shadow shift.
The world blurred. His body displaced and Illusion peeled from reality like shadow from light.
There was two of him now. One real. One false but both moving.
He drove forward. Blade extended. Thrust aimed for the prince's heart. All his training. All his skill. Every lesson learned in blood across ten years channeled into this single strike.
This had never failed.
Now… He screamed inwardly.
The distance disappeared between them but the prince's eyes tracked him.
Not the illusion.
HIM.
Impossible…
The dagger came up to meet his blade mid-thrust. The steel shrieked. The force of the parry twisted his sword aside. And his momentum carried him past the opening.
He saw through it. The Agent's eyes widened.
Dragon eyes?. Dragon reflexes--- He saw shadow step
The prince's left hand shot out immediately after the parry. Empty. No weapon.
Then suddenly it wasn't empty.
Crimson scales rippled up the prince's forearm. Flowing like liquid metal solidifying. Spreading across palm, over knuckles, up to the elbow.
Black talons extended from fingertips. Curved. Razor-sharp. Four inches of dragon-forged death.
The transformation took a second. Maybe less. Even while the agent's sword was still recovering from the parry and his mind in shock.
His body, too committed to his forward momentum that he couldn't reverse it. Couldn't re-orient himself.
The clawed hand of the prince caught his wounded arm. Talons tore through leather and flesh. Digging deep.
He felt his muscle severed. Tendons snapped. Blood sprayed. Red warm mist in hot air.
The agent screamed. His pain was raw knowing that his sword arm was probably dead now. The blade clattered to the floor. His fingers wouldn't close anymore. His grip was lost.
He staggered back. Clutched the ruined arm. Blood poured between his fingers. Soaked his clothes.
No..No..Not like this.
His left hand fumbled for the backup weapon at his belt. A hidden dagger. His last resort.
The prince was three paces away and advancing. The crimson scales gleaming. Black talons dripping with blood.
One chance. I've got only one
The agent's face contorted and his eyes narrowed. He threw the dagger. Putting everything behind it. All his desperation. All his survival instincts.
The knife spun with speed. Aimed for the throat of the prince. A clear killer blow.
But—
The prince cocked his head to the side. He moved like wind and the blade passed his ear. Missing by inches. Embedded in a wooden beam behind him.
The agent eyes widened and he tried to run. But his legs betrayed him. They buckled and he stumbled. Crashed against a support pillar. Coughing insistently as the smoke of the burning warehouse intensified.
For the first time in years, the agent was cornered. The prince closed the distance. No hurry. Just inevitability.
"Don't do this— I'm Lord –"
Before he could finish speaking. The clawed hand shot out and caught his throat. It squeezed and his words sank down his throat.
Claws punctured flesh. Four points of pressure. As his windpipe crushed beneath dragon strength like dried stick.
The agent's eyes bulged. His mouth opened. He tried to scream but no sound came. Only wet gurgling. Blood filled his throat and lungs.
His left hand clawed at the prince's forearm. Fingernails scraped against crimson scales uselessly. Like scratching diamond.
His legs kicked weakly. Body thrashing on instinct even as his mind understood.
I was never fighting a prince.
I was fighting a dragon.
The prince's face showed nothing. No anger. No satisfaction. Just purpose.
The agent's vision darkened at the edges. His struggles weakened. Legs stopped kicking. But the pressure remained. Unrelenting.
This is how I die...Me.. nobility
His eyes glazed. Fixed on something beyond the prince. Beyond the warehouse as his world faded.
---
Auryn held on for ten seconds more. Making sure. There was no faking. No last desperate surge.
Then he released. The corpse crumpled. Boneless and empty.
He looked at his clawed hand. Blood coating the scales. Dripping from the talons.
The transformation faded. Scales retracted. Talons withdrew. His hand returned to normal. Covered in blood.
I killed him with my hands. Felt his throat collapse. Felt him die.
He knelt beside the body. He covered it's eye lids.
The corpse's throat was ruined. Punctured. Windpipe visible through torn flesh.
The face was worse. During the struggle, his talons had torn upward reflexively. Left cheek open. Eye socket damaged. Blood masked the features. Unrecognizable.
He searched the body. Found a folded parchment and coded message. A coin purse with thirty gold. Perhaps payment for services.
There was nothing of identification on him.
Professional And clean. Nothing to track
The fire had spread. Crates blazing. Flames climbing walls. Smoke thick enough it should be choking him.
Auryn dragged the corpse toward the flames. Positioned it near the origin point.
The fire would consume the evidence. Flesh, clothing, blood. All would burn.
A mere fire accident. Nothing suspicious.
He moved to the support beam. Climbed it . He reached the broken skylight. Pulled himself through. Glass crunching under his boots.
He stood on the warehouse roof. Looked down at the spreading flames through the opening.
He whistled once. Sharp and clear. Signal to guards two blocks away.
Situation handled. Return to barracks.
No response came. None needed. They knew protocol. In the darkness they disappeared.
Auryn moved across rooftops. Behind him, the warehouse roared. Orange glow visible against the night sky. Smoke rising toward the moon.
City guard bells began ringing faintly In the distance.
Vaedon's spy. Eliminated.
One thread cut.
He paused. Cold wind blasting on his face.
How many more will I kill before this ends?
He looked ahead. The castle visible. His home then his eyes steeled.
As many as it takes.
He continued forward. Behind him, flames consumed everything except memory.
And in memory, the agent's sword work remained. He was good. Better than me with a blade.
I won because I had all it took. But pure technique? He was better.
His fingers flexed. Imagining a sword instead of a dagger.
Something to learn. When there's time. A way to further his training
The castle gates appeared ahead. Auryn dropped down and approached on foot.
The guards straightened and saluted.He passed through with a slow nod.
Inside, the corridors were quiet. Torches burning low. Servants asleep or pretending to be.
He entered his chambers. Removed his cloak. Blood stained. Would need disposal.
He sat on the bed. Looked at his hands. He still saw blood even though he'd wiped them clean.
This is what I am now. What I'm becoming..
His eyes closed.
In the darkness behind his eyelids, he saw the agent's face. The moment recognition turned to terror. The moment the agent realized he wasn't fighting a prince.
He was fighting a dragon.
Sleep came. But the memory didn't fade.
And somewhere, Lord Castor would wake to the news that his agent had gone silent.
The game had flipped on its head.
"Good." Auryn muttered.