The moment the dagger slit her throat, the sound of Merit's choking gasp lingered for only a heartbeat before silence reclaimed the battlefield.
Her body hit the ground with a dull thud, limbs splayed, and blood pooled beneath her. The assassin stood over her corpse, the curved dagger still glinting with a smear of royal blood. His expression was unreadable—neither satisfaction nor cruelty, just the detached calm of someone who had done this a hundred times before.
Then he felt it.
A flicker in the air—pressurized mana signatures approaching fast.
He turned his head, eyes narrowing.
In the distance, three sleek black escort cars hovered low over the ground, racing toward them. Their matte finish shimmered in the moonlight, with the crests of the Earth Clan barely visible on their sides.
His eyes gleamed violet again.
"…Too late."
