Assassination

“Clang!”

Blades cleared their scabbards as the escorting knights moved in unison. They split into two groups on their own initiative: one formed a defensive perimeter around Tyr, while the other charged out alongside Lanier.

A dozen meters away, a group of masked men radiating a savage aura stared in their direction with murderous intent.

“Boss, these people have knights escorting them. They're clearly nobles. Are we really going through with this?”

One of the masked men clearly began to have second thoughts upon seeing the knights guarding Tyr and his family.

“No shit! If they weren't nobles, would the employer have hired a mercenary band like us to do the job?”

The leader cast an exasperated look at the lackey who had spoken. The person who had approached them with a bag of gold to hire them the other day was also clearly a noble.

In this world, the social hierarchy was strict. If a noble wanted to get rid of a commoner, they could easily fabricate a pretext. Why would they ever need to hire mercenaries?

“Boss, I just mean these guys look like trouble. Maybe we should pull back.”

For some reason, an intense sense of unease had been brewing in his chest.

Ever since he was a child, he had possessed an uncanny intuition for danger, which had saved his life multiple times. The moment this feeling arose, he knew deep down that these people were not to be trifled with.

“What is there to fear? I recently got my hands on some treasures and broke through to the Fifth Circle. The employer told me that the strongest person in this group is only at the Fifth Circle too.

“Besides, our mission isn't to wipe them all out. We just need to kill the kid inside.”

The leader had been in an exceptionally good mood lately. Breaking through to the Fifth Circle made him a top-tier expert in his own right.

Under normal circumstances, without some monumental stroke of luck, the Fifth Circle was the absolute limit for commoners like them.

As for the cultivation methods beyond the Fifth Circle, those were secrets held only by the nobility, a monopoly they guarded fiercely.

If they wanted to obtain them, they either had to sign a contract with a noble—becoming their loyal dog for life and doing their dirty work—

or steal and plunder from them.

However, the successful cases of stealing advanced knowledge from the nobility could be counted on one hand.

Most who tried ended up as souls slain by noble blades, or were captured and tortured to death.

The final option was to rely on sheer talent and strength to pass the entrance exam of the empire's premier magic academy, the Star Chant Academy.

It was the only academy in the empire open to commoners.

Gaining admission to the Star Chant Academy was the sole legitimate path for a commoner to acquire advanced knowledge beyond the Fifth Circle.

Of course, as the empire's top magic academy, the Star Chant Academy's entrance requirements were notoriously harsh.

The mercenary leader had only dared to accept this assassination mission because the employer had promised him knowledge beyond the Fifth Circle.

“Boss!”

Just as the mercenary leader was fantasizing about his bright future, a sudden, panicked cry from his subordinate startled him.

“What are you screaming for? Are you trying to draw them to us?”

The mercenary leader glared at the shouting subordinate. He had indeed been startled by the sudden yell.

At the thought of what would happen if the noble knights spotted them first, his gaze toward the subordinate filled with murderous intent.

Could this bastard be a plant from another mercenary band sent to ruin me? I'll get rid of him as soon as we return.

“B-Boss, look... look for yourself. They're gone.”

Even as the mercenary leader plotted the man's demise, he saw the subordinate's trembling finger pointing toward Tyr's caravan, his voice stuttering in terror.

“What do you mean gone?”

The mercenary leader snapped his head around, only to realize that the white-haired man who had been in the carriage convoy was gone.

At the same time, a golden barrier had risen around the convoy, shielding everyone within.

The escorting knights had also assumed defensive stances, warily watching their surroundings for any sign of danger.

“Are you looking for me?”

Just as the mercenary leader's mind raced with confusion, a whisper drifted into his ear.

He whipped his head around, only to see a handsome young man with white hair and crimson eyes standing behind him, holding a black sword.

Behind the youth, all of his mercenary subordinates lay collapsed in pools of blood.

It didn't take long for him to notice his vision tilting downward uncontrollably. He saw his own body, blood still spurting from his headless neck.

He had been decapitated with a single stroke.

“Hmph.”

Lanier cast a cold glance at the field of mercenary corpses. In the next instant, his figure vanished without a trace, reappearing right beside Ivelina.

Once Lanier returned, several knights sprinted toward the mercenaries' location, returning only after a brief inspection.

Adel turned to look at them. The knights who had gone to check nodded before returning to their positions in the formation.

Knowing the threat was resolved, Ivelina gently set Tyr down from her embrace.

“Did those people make their move?”

A mere band of mercenaries daring to ambush a noble convoy—and right at this specific timing, no less. There was no need to guess who was behind it.

“Another Grand Election has begun, and some people are getting impatient.” A cold light flashed in Lanier's eyes. “A bunch of self-righteous fools. If the Callis family's Grand Election could be disrupted so easily, how could House Callis have stood tall on this continent for over a hundred thousand years?”

In other families, the succession of the family head was almost always passed down to the eldest legitimate son. Whether it was the training they received from childhood, the allocation of resources, or the influence they held within the family, no other offspring could compare.

It wasn't that the other children of those noble families never coveted the position, but those who actually succeeded were few and far between.

Even in the royal family, although the princes fought for the throne, the struggle for succession was strictly confined within the emperor's immediate lineage.

Only in House Callis did the struggle for succession encompass the entire family, granting equal education and resources to all eligible family members.

Everything was designed solely to select the strongest swordsman of the generation to become the next family head—the next Grand Duke Callis.

Yet, giving everyone a chance also ignited desires that should never have been kindled.

Since the strongest swordsman of the generation would become the next Grand Duke Callis, they figured they could simply eliminate the strongest competitors.

How should one put it?

The idea was lovely in theory, but no one had ever succeeded.

Furthermore, anyone involved in such schemes would be executed directly under the orders of Grand Duke Callis.

Even so, every Grand Election still saw people who harbored illusions of luck.

There were always those who couldn't resist the temptation and tried to take shortcuts, even when they knew their chances of success were virtually nonexistent.

But what if?