Midnight blanketed the royal palace.
Guards patrolled with torches, unaware their shadows stretched a little too far, twisted in unnatural angles. Somewhere between those shadows... something moved.
Silent. Precise. Deadly.
She stepped over the balcony rail like a whisper. Her cloak barely fluttered.
Lira Nacht, elite assassin of the Obsidian Order, crouched on the ledge of the Hero’s balcony.
Her mission: observe, verify, and kill if necessary.
Her blade was already drawn.
Inside, Kai was sleeping on his side, mouth slightly open, half-buried in blankets. One leg hung off the edge of the mattress.
This... was the Hero?
She had expected a towering warrior. Or a blood-eyed demon. Or someone who looked remotely capable of incinerating the world.
A noodle-scented mess of limbs and bedhead.
Still, she couldn’t ignore the report: "Danger Level: Cataclysmic."
The Obsidian Order did not take rumors lightly.
Lira tapped the hilt of her dagger once — a silent signal to the arcane crystal embedded in her collar. It began recording.
At that exact moment, Kai rolled over and muttered, "...No more coupons, Tony... I don’t have exact change..."
Lira paused. Her dagger was inches from his throat.
Suddenly—his eyes opened.
He blinked up at her.
"Oh hey. You one of those dream girls? I knew the prophecy would pay off eventually."
She was fully masked, clad in black from head to toe, with literal blades aimed at his vital organs, and this idiot was flirting?
She leaned in slightly.
"Don’t move," she said coldly.
Kai nodded. "Sure. But like, could you not stab me until after breakfast? They were gonna make waffles in the morning."
She sighed. This was already more complicated than she wanted.
[Passive Skill Activated: "Disaster Aura – Drowsy Deflection"]
[Your confused flirting has disrupted the enemy’s kill intent. Success chance reduced by 70%.]
"What...?" she murmured.
[System Note: She’s starting to feel weird things. Please keep being adorable. Or stupid. Either works.]
Kai sat up suddenly — without thinking — and bonked his forehead into hers.
Both of them recoiled.
The dagger clattered to the floor. Lira clutched her forehead, staggering back. Kai blinked at her.
"Wait, you’re real?! You’re not like... a sexy stealth dream?!"
Before she could respond, the door to his room slammed open.
Princess Elira burst in, sword already drawn, eyes blazing.
"I FELT A MAGICAL SPIKE—"
A masked woman was in his room, on her knees, holding her head.
"...What. The hell. Is going on."
Lira bolted toward the window.
Elira charged after her.
"Wait! Don’t kill her, she’s just confused! Or romantic!"
Lira tossed a smoke pellet. The room exploded in a flash of black mist.
Elira slashed blindly through it, yelling, "How many assassins have you seduced in the last 24 hours?!"
By the time the guards arrived, the room was a wreck.
Pillows shredded, curtains smoldering, furniture melted (somehow), and a statue of a cat that hadn’t even been in the room before was now sitting on the windowsill.
Kai sat on the floor with a handprint on his face and Elira pacing in circles.
"You are banned from being alone."
"You attracted a killer in your sleep!"
"I think we connected emotionally."
She screamed into her gauntlet.
Far away, Lira sprinted across the rooftops.
Her head still throbbed. But worse was the confusion swirling in her chest.
That idiot... hadn’t even defended himself.
He could’ve vaporized her. He had infinite mana. The system interface had glitched just from scanning him.
And yet... he smiled.
Told her she was "romantic."
She landed on a tower roof and ripped her mask off, breathing hard.
"...No. He’s just a fool. A powerful, dangerous fool."
But she didn’t report him as a threat that night.
The next morning, Kai was eating waffles under heavy royal guard supervision.
Elira sat across from him with a migraine.
"I still don’t understand how she got through every magical alarm." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ N()velFire.net
"She was really good at sneaky stuff," Kai said. "Like a sexy ninja cat."
"I will drown you in syrup."
He grinned. "Promise?"
She stabbed her fork into her own waffle so hard the plate cracked.
A maid tiptoed past them, whispering nervously about "emotional breakfast tension."
Then a voice rang through the hall:
"ANNOUNCING: LADY YULIA ASTREM OF THE HIGH ARCANE ACADEMY."
A tall, regal woman entered the dining hall.
Long silver hair. Crystal glasses. Robes so immaculate they looked magically pressed.
She adjusted her gloves with clinical precision.
"Where," she said coolly, "is the so-called ’Hero’?"
Then turned to Elira.
"...You summoned a homeless raccoon."
"I KNOW," Elira groaned.