Carl, who had once known a former Moon Shadow, observed Isper with a neutral expression. "Do you swear upon the Dark Side of the Moon?"
Isper flinched briefly but then lowered his head in resignation. "I, Isper, swear upon the Dark Side of the Moon."
At Michael's nod, Leonardo retracted his glowing red gaze.
"Your name is Isper, then? State your personal details, your group, and the mission you were assigned," Michael commanded.
Eyes still closed, Isper began to speak.
"Yes, my name is Isper. I do not know my family name or my exact age. I was sold to the Moon Shadows as a child and suspect I am from a nomadic desert tribe. I currently serve as the top assassin of the Moon Shadows. Above me is only the Master, who handles finances and contracts. Functionally, he is the strongest member of the Moon Shadows.
"My mission was to kill the heir of House Crassus and eliminate all evidence. The original contract came through another assassin guild, requesting the eradication of the entire Crassus family en route to the capital. Two guild members were sent initially but failed. That's when I, the strongest of the Moon Shadows, was dispatched. If I fail and die, the mission will be considered a lost cause, and no further attempts will be made.
"I've told you everything. Spare me the humiliation and kill me now."
What Isper said largely aligned with what Michael already knew.
Michael studied Isper with a pensive expression. There was one crucial question that needed answering.
"During your assignments, have you ever killed innocent bystanders or committed crimes such as murder, robbery, or rape unrelated to your missions?"
Isper looked up, perplexed. "Why ask such a thing? I am not a sadistic killer. I never wanted to become an assassin in the first place—why would I commit such atrocities?"
Satisfied, Michael nodded and handed Isper a cup containing an unknown liquid.
"You have two choices: serve House Crassus for the rest of your life or die. The choice is yours."
"Serve? What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. Killing someone of your skill would be a waste. Instead, we'll cleanse your identity and make you a shadow of House Crassus. You'll serve as an asset to our family."
Isper scoffed and accepted the cup. "Another shadow, huh? At least you're giving me a choice. I decline. Perhaps in the next life, we'll meet again."
He drank the liquid in one gulp. As he stared into Michael's eyes, he noticed something odd. Why did the young lord look at him with such pity? Was he mourning Isper's life?
"Resurrectionis electio!"
When Isper awoke, he understood. That look of pity hadn't been for his death—it had been for what came next.
This wasn't the next life he had imagined.
Leonardo clapped him on the shoulder. "Alright, let me explain the rules you'll follow as a familiar of House Crassus."
Damn this wretched life...
As Isper was dragged away by Leonardo, his expression blank and hopeless, Michael couldn't help but feel some sympathy.
If Isper had chosen to serve in life, his debt would have been paid within a century at most. But by choosing death, he had sentenced himself to eternal servitude.
Still, there was no need for excessive pity. No matter the circumstances, Isper had killed dozens of innocents as part of his missions.
Michael felt a grim sense of satisfaction. With Leonardo's customization and training, Isper would become an invaluable close-range bodyguard for House Crassus.
The remainder of the journey was uneventful.
After two months of travel, the group finally arrived in the capital. Days of riding horses and sitting in carriages had taken their toll, even with Leonardo's efforts to make the carriage as comfortable as possible.
Stretching his stiff body, Michael looked around the inn they had reserved. The inn was situated in the southern part of the capital, not far from the royal palace and bustling markets. Its structure, a mix of stone and wood, exuded an air of history and tradition.
A large sign reading "Royal Certification" hung over the entrance, signifying that this establishment catered primarily to the nobility. One of their guards had been sent ahead to book the entire inn for their party.
Each of the key retainers was assigned a private room, while the soldiers shared rooms in groups of five.
Michael inspected his quarters first. Though small, the room was clean and orderly. A neatly made bed with linen sheets, a small wooden table, and a wall-mounted candleholder filled the space. Opening the window, he let in a refreshing breeze, a testament to the innkeeper's care for the premises. A basin and water jug were set up in one corner for washing.
The innkeeper assured them that hot bathwater would be prepared soon for each room, while the soldiers eagerly ran outside to use the communal baths. Though basic and requiring water to be refilled after each use, it was a luxury compared to nothing.
Thanks to his noble status, Michael had the privilege of having hot water delivered to his room. Sinking into a wooden tub filled with steaming water, he let out a sigh of relief, finally shedding the weariness of the long journey. After weeks of camping, a proper bath felt like a gift from the heavens. The warm water eased his tense muscles, granting him a rare moment of peace.
After his bath, Michael descended to the inn's dining hall on the first floor.
The hall, furnished with wooden tables and benches, was simple but cozy, with a fireplace radiating warmth. The meal was modest yet satisfying: freshly baked bread with butter, cheese, ham, and even fresh fruit. The innkeeper went a step further, offering Michael and his party an egg dish and warm tea. For a standard inn meal, it was surprisingly delightful.
As expected of an inn frequented by nobles and knights, provisions for their magical beasts had not been overlooked. Miaomiao shared Michael's table, feasting on thick cuts of grilled beef.
After the meal, Michael greeted his companions briefly before retiring to his room, where he fell into a deep, well-earned sleep.