The Duke turned, leading us through the winding stone corridor, his steps deliberate, echoing against the smooth floor. Alice trailed beside me, quiet, though her presence alone felt like a weight at my side—a steady one, grounding me.
"I’ll be honest," I said, voice low enough for only her to hear. "I thought he was going to keep me locked up for another week."
"He would have," she replied. "But someone kept bringing him reports. Of your attitude, your patience, and the fact that you didn’t once complain."
"Because there was nothing to complain about," I muttered. "I had three square meals and no Hans."
She gave me a side glance. "You say that, but you’d lose your mind in another week."
I turned my head back toward the front and narrowed my eyes at the Duke.
Something didn’t sit right.
Getting me out of the cell? Sure. That much I expected, especially after everything that happened.
But a reward? That was a different story altogether.
He caught my suspicious look and let out a low chuckle.
"I know what you’re thinking," he said calmly. "But I’m being sincere. You didn’t just win the tournament—you saved my daughter’s life. Again. And yet, you received no proper recognition for either. That’s why I’m offering this... as compensation."
The moment he said that, something clicked.
He wasn’t lying. At least, not entirely.
While I’d been thinking in terms of personal gain—getting a little something for myself, or maybe doing it for Alice’s sake—the Duke was operating on a completely different level.
He was looking at the bigger picture.
This wasn’t just about fairness. It was about preserving reputation, strengthening alliances, and showing the world that loyalty to House Draken meant something.
Even if it seemed like a loss now, the gesture would pay off for him later.
...Still, I didn’t expect to be the beneficiary of that kind of strategic thinking.
"In that case," I said slowly, "I’d like the dagger from the third floor of the underground vault."
He raised an eyebrow. "The old, worn one?"
There was genuine curiosity in his voice now.
"I’ve heard it’s linked to some obscure part of the family’s history," he went on, "but in terms of power, it’s practically useless. There are far better artifacts down there. Any reason you want that one?"
He looked at me with a faint smile, returning my earlier request with a teasing question.
I rubbed the back of my neck, a little embarrassed.
"You might laugh," I said, "but I just... felt something. An instinct, I guess. Like it was calling to me."
The Duke didn’t laugh.
He studied me quietly for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"...Very well," he finally said. "I’ll have it brought to you. But if it starts whispering in your sleep, don’t say I didn’t warn you."
I let out a small laugh, and even Alice cracked a smile beside him.
It was during the chaos—right when Wampa roared and charged, blood splashing across the broken vault tiles—that I first saw it.
A glint on the floor.
The blade looked insignificant at first glance, hidden among the rubble and cracked display pedestals. But the moment my hand brushed against its hilt, a flicker appeared in the corner of my vision.
[Once dismissed as a ceremonial blade carried by the first Duchess of Draken, this weapon reveals its true nature only in the hands of the worthy.]
[The fang of the assassin who stalked through the shadows of the northern realm gleams with deadly intent.]
[Additional effects granted when equipped by the assassin’s descendant]
[’Phantom Step’ ability activation reduces mana consumption]
[Grants ambush attribute when equipped; increases damage proportionally to agility when the enemy is unaware of the wearer’s identity]
Back then, I didn’t have time to dwell on what it meant. The moment the message appeared, I was already moving—dodging Wampa’s charge, pushing Alice out of harm’s way, and stabbing the creature’s exposed flank.
The blade had cut through it like a whisper in the dark.
Even now, I could still remember how it felt in my hand—balanced, responsive, like it had been waiting for me all along.
Not just a tool, but a part of me.
And now, I was getting it for real.
"Thank you," I said to the Duke, meaning it more than I expected.
He nodded without breaking stride, his voice calm. "Don’t mention it. I may not be able to erase the stain of locking you up, but this is the least I can do to show House Draken’s sincerity."
Alice looked between us, a flicker of pride in her eyes.
Maybe I didn’t deserve any of it.
But I wasn’t going to turn it down either.
We finally stopped at a tall, reinforced wooden door bound in black iron. Two knights stood at attention on either side, and at the Duke’s signal, they pushed it open.
What lay inside was not the familiar dungeon chamber or a grand audience hall.
It was something else entirely.
A clean, minimal room lined with racks of weapons and armors—some gleaming with magic, others worn with history. And there, on a velvet-covered pedestal under soft blue lighting, rested the dagger.
Even now, its edge looked unassuming. Dull, almost. But my fingers tingled just looking at it.
As I stepped forward, I noticed something shift in the air around me—like something old and unseen had just stirred from slumber.
The Duke remained by the door, his gaze steady.
"You’ve chosen a strange path," he said quietly. "But perhaps the right one."
I reached out, wrapping my fingers around the hilt.
No resistance. No hesitation.
Only that same quiet sense of welcome.
I didn’t know if I was truly the assassin’s descendant.
But whatever bond this dagger had with me—it was real.
And I was ready to find out why.
Thank you for reading the Chapter. I hope you continue to do read more in future.