"He is here," the woman said simply.
The door swung open.
Inside, seated behind a scarred wooden table, was the guild master, wearing a black cloak that hid his face.
"So," the man drawled, leaning back in his chair. "Not everyone can use that password. I wonder... where have you heard of me?"
"I believe that doesn’t matter. What matters is how much I can give you—and what I want from you." The man pulled out a sack of gold coins and set it on the table.
The guild master chuckled, nodding.
"Right. It doesn’t matter where you heard of me. What is it that you want?"
"I want you to kill someone for me," the man answered, his voice firm and unwavering. Clearly, it wasn’t his first time making such a request.
"What?"
"You heard me. There is someone I want dead."
"Who...?"
"He is currently residing at the royal palace."
The guild master wasn’t surprised. He received such requests every now and then—from people who loathed the royal family. Mostly nobles, greedy for more wealth than they already possessed, with imperial laws standing in their way.
It was often the result of anger.
But this man... He showed not an ounce of it. If anything, he sounded composed, like someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
"That’s treason—"
The man cut the guild master off before he could finish.
"The Crown Prince of Danshin. He isn’t a part of the kingdom. So no. It isn’t."
The guild master burst into laughter. Then, he looked at the man.
"And why would I do that?"
"Because I am paying you. Isn’t your guild that of an assassin? You just need the right price for the task, right?"
The guild master studied the man for a long moment before exhaling slowly.
"...Very well."
He reached beneath the table and retrieved a contract with practiced ease—a routine he had grown accustomed to.
The terms were brief yet precise, written in ink infused with a dragon’s blood. Once the seal was pressed and the payment confirmed, the guild master leaned back in his chair.
"Sign here," he said, pointing beneath the agreement.
The man took the quill and signed his initials without hesitation.
"It’s a contract bound by dragon’s blood," the guild master continued. "You do know how it works, right? You can’t go back on the terms—unless you wish to suffer the dragon’s wrath."
"I know," the man replied nonchalantly. Clearly, he didn’t believe in it.
The guild master’s gaze lifted, sharp.
"One last condition," he said quietly. "Show me your face."
Silence stretched. Then, slowly, the man reached up.
His gloved fingers caught the edge of his hood and pulled it back.
The world seemed to stop.
The guild master’s breath hitched, his chair scraping harshly against the floor as he rose abruptly.
No—
Impossible.
That face had been burned into the capital’s memory—into banners, headlines, and war reports.
A face praised as a hero.
A symbol of loyalty.
Captain Oliver.
The empire’s blade.
"...Why?" the guild master whispered, his voice barely audible.
Oliver’s expression did not change.
No rage.
No hesitation.
Not even guilt.
He pulled the hood back over his head, severing the guild master’s stunned gaze, and turned away.
"I don’t owe you an explanation," he said flatly. "Make sure you don’t breach the contract. It includes a clause of absolute privacy."
Having said so, Oliver exited the door, shutting the door behind him.
The guild master lowered him onto his chair. For the first time in years, he felt chills run down his spine.
How could this be?...
And why was the royal army’s captain doing this?
***
The door swung open. Footsteps echoed behind him.
Still, Zayden didn’t move. His eyes were fixed on the screen before him, but in his mind, he was somewhere else entirely.
He held his ’dead’ mate in his arms, mumbling words barely audible.
"My Lord, please snap out of it!" a sharp voice called from behind.
It was Halein.
Receiving no answer or reaction, she reached for his shoulders, shaking him slightly.
"My Lord! None of what you’re seeing is real! Please snap out of it!" she cried, louder this time.
And it worked—the alpha blinked, his gaze unfocused as he looked around, disoriented.
"What... is going on?" he murmured. He was certain he had entered the building to kill the monster that had been spreading fear throughout the capital and the surrounding villages. But what happened?
He reached up to his itching cheeks—tears. Slowly, he parted his lips and looked up at Halein.
"My Lord, it seems this monster can control our minds. That’s why everyone was hallucinating, seeing their worst fears brought to life before their eyes."
"How do you know?"
"Well..." she scoffed proudly. "It failed to show me a real nightmare. It’s not that strong. As long as you know it’s an illusion, the monster’s control weakens—and it can’t trick you twice."
Zayden nodded and sprang to his feet. Who knew how long he had been trapped here?
"We should find it right away and kill it."
Halein nodded, looking up at the General.
"The other knights have arrived as well. It seems the monster lured us here so it could trap us in a state of endless misery."
With a low hmph, Zayden glanced toward the knights standing in the hallway. All of them appeared to have regained consciousness.
"We have lost enough time because of this monster’s tricks. Let’s finish it and return home," Zayden said, his voice firm.
The knights nodded, tightening their grips on their sword hilts. The monster wasn’t particularly strong—just clever, with more intelligence than usual.
It didn’t take long to track it down. The creature loomed from the ceiling, dark smoke curling around its form.
"So that’s why we were all seeing illusions," Zayden muttered.
He didn’t even need to lift a finger—his knights were more than enough to eliminate it. A few sword swings and the monster disappeared in an instant.
Yet what unsettled him was the lingering smell in the building after the monster was defeated. It was familiar... unforgettable. The scent of roses.
The once-dark hallways brightened instantly, as if the monster had pulled them into another dimension and then let them return.
"It... smells like her," he murmured.
"Her?" Halein frowned.
"The exiled princess of Revhara," Zayden said, his voice low, but clear enough for everyone to hear.