The Stance of Lucifer.
Lucifer, the ‘Fallen Morning Star’ who stands at the exact opposite of Mikael, the mightiest angel.
A forbidden sword style that cannot be uttered in the Holy Empire.
No longer did the radiant angelic wings shine brilliantly in this place. Instead, only the pitch-black Black Wings—twelve demonic wings of the Devil—spread wide open.
“Th-that stance, don’t tell me…!”
Shock flickered across the faces of the nobles who had been watching the duel between the two.
Boom!
It was at that moment.
The ground beneath trembled and the earth quaked, so powerful that it seemed like an earthquake. Along with that overwhelming force, a voice full of authority resounded.
“That’s enough.”
A man in a golden coat had somehow blocked Oscar’s path.
“This match is a draw.”
“Father, I haven’t lost ye—”
“Silence.”
Oscar tried to say something from behind.
Thud!
But before he could finish, the Grand Duke Grandel struck Oscar’s abdomen with the hilt of his sword. The twelve wings spread out behind him vanished without a trace, and with a retch, his body collapsed.
“Prepare a carriage and return Oscar to the Grand Duchy at once. Keep him imprisoned in the underground cell until I arrive.”
Without sparing his fallen son a single glance, the Grand Duke gave his cold order to the knights beside him.
After issuing the command, he turned his head. Not toward Sien, who stood before him, but to the true architect of this stage, smiling coldly from behind.
“So this was your aim from the start.”
“What aim? I wonder what you mean.”
The Mother of Assassin replied with serene indifference.
“I simply granted Young Lord Oscar’s request, that’s all.”
This woman knew.
Why hadn’t she hidden her son’s talent from the beginning?
It was all part of her plan. She knew that Oscar, so upright and naive to a fault, would never ignore Sien’s dazzling talent without challenging him to a duel.
She knew, too, that the Grand Duke would never allow it, so Oscar would intentionally try to avoid her watchful eye.
She could not be unaware of the despair Oscar would feel throughout this process.
How dare you try to break my son.
Through this battle, Oscar would be cast into the pit of despair and truly ‘broken’. Even the Grand Duke, who so trusted his son’s talent, could not be sure whether Oscar would ever rise again.
And worst of all, everyone present had witnessed his defeat.
From beginning to end, everything danced in the palm of her hand.
“Familie ist alles (Family is everything)”
The continent’s greatest knight, the Sword Demon Grand Duke Grandel, recited solemnly.
With that recitation, he swung his sword. Toward the young Sien standing before him.
No stance. No technique. Just a simple, straightforward strike.
But… it could not be dodged.
His body was frozen, unable to move. The fear of death raced down Sien’s spine.
Clang!
An unavoidable, inescapable blow of death. As that strike came, a sharp sound rang out as it was blocked.
With her jet-black dress fluttering, the Mother of Assassin stepped in front of Sien.
She didn’t even draw a sword. She blocked the Grand Duke’s strike with just the velvet ribbon at the end of her dress.
The nobles nearby were frozen, overwhelmed by the confrontation between these two giants.
“There’s nothing more laughable than adults butting into children’s fights.”
Laila Nightwalker sneered coldly.
“Did you really think you could do something like this and just let it pass?”
“As I said, this was merely a little entertainment between children.”
Laila answered with a sly, indifferent smile.
“Besides, it was the Grand Duke’s own wish that the young lords learn about the world outside the well, wasn’t it?”
“To be able to meet your expectations, Grand Duke, is truly an honor for me as well.”
The blood boiled at her brazen attitude, the humiliation making one’s body tremble. But that was the end of it.
This was the territory of Assassins. Now, without even bothering to hide their presence, the monsters of the Nightwalker Family began appearing one by one, displaying their aura from every direction.
“The Highmasters of the Nightwalker Family…”
Silence descended. After a moment, the Grand Duke Grandel sheathed his sword and turned away in silence.
“Prepare for our return to the Grand Duchy.”
With his back turned, the Sword Demon Grand Duke issued his order to the knights.
***
Oscar Grandel, once the continent’s greatest sword genius, was no longer the best. Now, it was the eldest son of the Nightwalker Family, Sien Nightwalker, who was two years younger.
Moreover, Sien’s talents were not limited to swordsmanship.
The child even knew how to use magic. Perhaps even more so than Bar Muore, the heir of the House of Bar Muore, rumored to possess the greatest magical talent on the continent.
***
One year later.
Twelve successful assassination missions completed within the Republic’s territory; advanced to 2nd-level master in the Psychokinesis School.
Two years later.
Successfully assassinated a Republic exile who had fled to the Charlemagne Kingdom; achieved mastery in the 1st Form ‘Pose of the Wraith’; advanced to 3rd-level expert in the Elemental School.
Three years later.
Achieved mastery in the 9th Form ‘Kraken Stance’; successfully completed a secret mission with his brother Bigo during the civil war in the Archipelago of Seven Kingdoms.
Four years later.
Succeeded in the modification procedure to master the 5th Form, ‘Thorn Stance’.
And the following year, five years later, at the age of fifteen.
To my dear Sien—.
A Nightfalcon of the family, who had been out on a mission, brought a letter to Sien. This was not the usual letter of concern from a mother asking about her son’s wellbeing.
Return home as soon as your mission is over.
It was an order from the head of the family, summoning Sien to the Duchy.
After reading Laila’s letter, Sien tore it into tiny pieces and swallowed them down his throat. Only then did the Nightfalcon, who had been perched on Sien’s shoulder, flutter away into the night sky.
Caw, caw!
With the Nightfalcon receding in the distance, Sien turned his head.
Salerno, a port city in the southern central part of the Republic.
Facing the sea, this city was one of the key maritime trade hubs supporting the Republic of Veneto.
Yet, as dusk settled beyond the horizon, an eerie silence engulfed the entire city. The port, the wharf, the streets—even the square—were no exception.
There’s no way a city of this size would fall silent so quickly.
In the Republic’s cities, no matter how late at night, sleep never comes so easily. Yet, not a single mouse could be found on the bustling streets, not until the gray light of dawn.
And that was precisely why Sien had come to this place.
“Hey, are you out of your mind!”
Just then, a man on the second floor of a stone house opened a window and shouted.
“What are you doing wandering around at this hour!”
“Is something the matter?”
“I—I don’t have time to explain! If you value your life, get to the nearest tavern or church and hide! Quickly!”
“Ah, well, thank you very mu—”
Bang!
Before Sien could even express his thanks, the man hastily closed the window, as if afraid someone would see. Sien gave a faint smile, shrugged, and moved on.
Stone houses lined the cobblestone street, and the twilight darkness slowly crept up behind him.
How far had he walked? As he emerged from the stone houses into the square, a sharp-spired Gothic church revealed itself.
“What brings you here, brother?”
At the entrance to the church, a priest guarding the grand facade approached Sien.
“I came after being advised to seek refuge in the church.”
“You did well. As you know, the city’s been rather unsettled these past weeks…”
“Is something happening?”
“Well…”
The priest trailed off, glancing nervously up at the night sky.
“It—it’s late! Please, come inside the church and take shelter. This is the sacred sanctuary where the Lord dwells; He will surely protect you from the hand of evil.”
“Well, that’s certainly reassuring.”
Sien bowed slightly and began walking inside. After a few steps, he turned back and asked,
“Won’t you come in as well, Father?”
“Ah, well, that is…”
The priest stammered suspiciously.
“I still have to keep watch for any lost sheep who might remain…”
“You truly have it rough.”
With a smile bordering on mockery, Sien continued inside.
Inside the sanctuary, without a single candle or lamp, darkness lay thick. Rows of pews and marble columns lined the nave, leading to the far end.
On the altar, in a golden chalice used for mass, dark red wine shimmered.
“In the past few weeks, a number of people have gone missing in the city, and some of them have been found washed up near the docks, drained of blood.”
In the empty sanctuary, Sien shrugged off his robe. Over the inky black leather coat he wore, a symbol of stars and daggers was inscribed, gleaming coldly.
“And in times like these, the only place the homeless and penniless sheep can turn to is here.”
Sien’s voice echoed along the nave.
Bubble, bubble.
At the same time, the wine in the golden chalice on the altar began to froth and bubble on its own. In fact, it wasn’t even wine.
Crack!
The golden chalice shattered with a sharp sound. The blood within surged toward Sien like a spray of bullets.
1st-tier Blood Magic, Blood Bolt.
“Did you think you wouldn’t get caught?”
But the barrage of blood bullets could not touch Sien. The marble floor at his feet split and rose up like a shield.
1st-tier Elemental Magic: “Wall of Earth.”
Crash!
In that instant, as the marble shield rose, it was shattered to pieces and a shadow rushed in from beyond.
It was a man in a cardinal’s robes. He looked so feeble and hunched that he could barely walk without a staff, his body shriveled and wrinkled, almost mummified.
From that frail form burst forth impossible strength and speed, shattering the marble wall and swinging a lethal strike at Sien’s unguarded back.
Slash!
Claws sharp as a beast’s flashed, leaving behind a Crimson Oath.
Clang!
A metallic sound rang out.
It wasn’t a sword that Sien’s blade met. It was blood-red claws, long and razor-sharp as a beast’s fangs—a blood weapon.
“You dare bare your fangs at one who walks the Great Night, even as you stand at death’s door…”
A voice as chilling as a serpent’s crawl resounded.
A face lined with wrinkles and the scars of time, hunched and stooped with age. Yet even in the darkness, his pallor was deathly white, and a bloodshot glare burned in his eyes.
“Have you never been told not to be a fool in your old age?”
The foe Sien had to kill was not a mere human. But that didn’t change anything.
This land was one vast garden, and for generations, they were its gardeners. Whatever threatened their garden—weed or living human—would not be tolerated.
Even if that foe was an immortal monster surpassing humanity: a vampire.