Invisible Black Knife Assassin Mga Nobela at Kwento

Within seconds, feathers from the pillow exploded into the air. My hand grabbed the bedside lamp and hurled it at the dark figure in front of me. He dodged with the flexibility of someone clearly well-trained. He wore all black, with a mask covering his entire face except for his eyes. He snarled, “You were supposed to die with your brother, Maeve.” I froze. Maeve? So he knew who I really was? The assassin lunged forward. I fought him using controlled breathing techniques. Silver energy flowed into my legs, sharpening my speed. I searched for an opening every time I dodged his attacks.

As I finally closed my eyes fading into the darkness. But before, I could lose myself completely in the darkness my heart picked an unusual pace as if something very wrong was about to happen. I tried shaking it off, not opening my eyes pretending to sleep but just couldn't. As the flutter of the curtain entered my ears, my eyes snapped open on their own as I saw a man dressed in black holding a knife which sparkled due to the light of the moon. There is an assassin in the room trying to kill us!

Lyra whispered urgently. "They aren't just drones," Valerius whispered, his violet eyes glowing with a terrifying clarity. "I can smell them. The Black-Sun Assassins. They’ve bypassed your static. They're already in the basement." At that exact moment, the reinforced doors at the end of the corridor twisted violently then exploded inward. Three figures stepped through the flames. Each assassin held a weapon. Dusk-Blades—weapons designed to sever the connection between a shifter and their primordial form.

“There’s a traitor inside the wards.” Another arrow flew. This one hit the table leg, splitting the carved wood. Lyra flinched. “You think?” Despite everything, his mouth almost curved. Then a figure moved in the darkness near the broken windows. Silent. Fast. Black cloak. Silver blade. The assassin vaulted through the frame with impossible grace. Cassian was already moving. He drew the dagger hidden beneath his coat and met the strike midair. Steel clashed. Sparks burst in the dark.

Nate pushed his hands away, closing the other buttons as well and hiding the chain back into his shirt. "No, no," Dante's eyes began to shift back to how they were earlier, somber and ruthless. His entire face seemed to sharpen as if had, the pink in his cheeks also vanishing the longer he stared at Nate fixing his shirt. "Be how you were before," he shoved Nate's hand away, grabbing the knife again and extending it towards his palm. "Take the knife," his voice had darkened, no longer soft as it was a few seconds earlier, "act as if you're going to stab me."

He's covered in an all black attire, his mouth and nose covered, leaving only his cold eyes that hold no emotion. Yup, definitely an assassin or... a hunter. The possibility of it being the latter clouds my judgement, making me suddenly feel weak in my knees, my eyes blurry. I'm having PTSD. No, no Ivy. Put yourself together, you have to make it out of here alive. There's a long blade in his hands. It's silver. It's definitely poisoned. It's a hunters blade. Experience has made me recognize it at one glance. My suspicion is right. He is a hunter.

Of prayers and quiet waiting. Until something shifted. It was the sound of breath, not Samarth's, but another — swift, measured, barely audible. A presence entered from the terrace, shadow sliding over stone, silent and sleek. Dressed in midnight black, the assassin landed with precision, like a panther stalking prey. The face was covered — only the eyes glinted beneath the hood, sharp and cold.

It always did. Zarek returned with the purge at dawn. The assassins had been found—hidden in the cavern beneath the aqueduct, their blades poisoned with a concoction only the Order would dare brew. No names. No crests. Just ink-black tattoos curling down their arms—marks of those who gave up their identities to serve the void. He tore the last one apart with his bare hands. There was no ceremony to it. No need for questions. Zarek Vorn had learned long ago that some darkness didn't deserve answers. Only fire.

If it wasn’t Rhys, then who was- Amira jumped out of her seat in time as a large blade sliced down the armchair. An assassin dressed in black, features masked, yanked their sword out of the chair. Sighing, Amira tossed one of her daggers at him. He dodged, mostly, but the side of his face was clipped.

Chase smiled sardonically at this. He did kill three men, and one of them belonged to the Iron Hammer Assassins Order. The other two were from the Dark Blood Assassins Order. "You aren't from an assassin order too, are you?" Chase sneered. His words enraged Man in Black, who looked even more intent to kill Chase. "I'm glad you know that. Surrender yourself and come with me to admit your guilt at the Law Enforcement Hall!" Man in Black roared. Black mist slowly rolled out from around him.