Chapter 348 - Three Hundred And Forty Seven

Chapter 348: Chapter Three Hundred And Forty Seven

As they crossed the large stone courtyard toward the main entrance of the manor house, the loud noise from their brief fight outside had already alerted the patrolling guards inside the residence.

Doors burst open, and ten armed estate guards came running out onto the wide stone porch, holding lanterns and drawn swords.

"Over there! Intruders in the courtyard!" the leader shouted, pointing his sword straight at Camilla and Kade.

Camilla stopped in her tracks. She looked at the ten armed men rushing down the steps toward them. She turned her head slightly to face Kade.

"Cover for me," Camilla commanded softly.

Kade nodded his head once in understanding. "Go, my lady."

Camilla reached down to her belt, pulled out the dark, herb-infused cloth Kade had given her earlier, and wrapped it tightly around the lower half of her face, covering her nose and mouth. Kade did the exact same, tying his own herb-infused cloth securely behind his head.

Kade reached into the small leather pouch at his waist and pulled out two small, round clay balls filled with concentrated sleeping powder.

He raised his arm and slammed both clay balls hard against the marble floor right in front of the advancing guards.

SMASH!

The clay shells shattered instantly into tiny pieces. A massive, dense cloud of thick white smoke billowed out into the air, spreading across the wide porch and courtyard within seconds like a heavy fog.

The guards rushed straight into the white smoke without knowing what it was.

"What is this? Smoke?" one guard shouted, coughing violently as he breathed in the thick air. "Cough! I can’t... see..."

"My head... feels heavy..." another guard whimpered, dropping his sword onto the ground.

The sleeping powder worked with terrifying speed. Within ten short seconds of breathing in the sweet-smelling white smoke, the guards’ eyes rolled back into their heads. Their knees buckled beneath them, and one by one, all ten guards dropped heavily onto the stone floor, unconscious and snoring softly.

Behind the thick barrier of white smoke, Kade stood firmly at the entrance of the hallway, holding his drawn sword, ready to block any further reinforcements from following her.

Camilla slipped past the falling guards like a shadow in the smoke. She navigated through the grand, quiet hallways of the mansion, heading straight toward the lavish master study on the second floor.

Meanwhile, inside the master bedroom, General Howe was frantically packing his belongings. His face was pale, slick with cold sweat, and filled with anxiety.

He stood near his desk, violently throwing thick stacks of gold coins,secret land deeds, and official ledgers into two large travel trunks.

General Howe had been doing the math all day long, and the numbers simply did not add up.

Yesterday, he had paid a fortune in gold to those elite foreign assassins to murder Lord Damon on the forest road. He had even provided them with that secret, terrifying metal tube weapon and the black powder he had collected from his father. The plan was supposed to be perfect, quick, and foolproof.

Yet, an entire night and day had passed, and no report had come back.

There was no official news of Lord Damon’s death from the military camp. There was no public announcement of a general’s funeral in the capital. Everything was dead silent.

Suspicious and paranoid, General Howe had sent his own private men to the forest road early in the morning to check the ambush site in secret.

When his men returned a few hours ago, they brought back terrifying news. They had found the bodies of the foreign assassins rotting in the dirt—all killed by sharp blades. But one man was missing. The main assassin who carried the metal weapon was nowhere to be found. Even worse, Lord Damon’s body was missing as well.

General Howe had paced back and forth in his room for hours, his stomach turning into tight, painful knots.

He knew what a missing body meant. It meant Lord Damon had survived the attack. It meant the missing foreign assassin had been captured alive and dragged back to the mansion for interrogation.

Howe tried to comfort himself by thinking that the assassin was a trained killer who would die before speaking. But Howe was not a foolish man. He knew that if the truth came out, he would be charged with high treason against the crown, stripped of his lands, and executed before the entire capital.

He could not take that risk. He needed to lay low and flee the kingdom before the royal guards or Damon’s men came knocking on his door.

Earlier that evening, Howe had sent an urgent, coded courier message to his secret political ally across the border—King Midas, the ruler of the neighboring Kingdom of Westberg.

King Midas had sent a reply back just an hour ago via a fast messenger hawk. The letter confirmed that a private, unmarked merchant ship was currently waiting for General Howe at the capital’s dark docks. The ship was prepared to set sail for Westberg the moment Howe stepped on board.

Howe wiped a sleeve across his sweaty forehead, clasping the lock of the first trunk filled with gold.

"Just a few more minutes," Howe muttered to himself, his voice trembling with nervous energy. "Once I reach the ship, I am safe. King Midas will grant me asylum and high rank in his army..."

Suddenly, a loud, violent sound shattered the quiet of the bedroom.

BOOM!

The door of the master bedroom were violently kicked open. The brass lock shattered into pieces, sending wooden splinters flying across the rug.

General Howe jumped in terror. He gasped loudly, his heart almost leaping out of his chest. He spun around quickly, his hand searching for sword.

Standing in the broken doorway was a tall, slender figure wrapped in a pitch-black cloak.

A dark hood covered the intruder’s head, hiding all facial features in deep shadow. A dark cloth covered the lower half of the figure’s face, leaving only two sharp hazel eyes visible.

In the figure’s hands were twin steel daggers. The blades caught the cold light of the moon shining through the window, gleaming with a light.

General Howe’s hand froze. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the dark figure standing before him. The terrifying aura coming off the intruder was so cold, and suffocating that Howe felt as if he could barely draw breath into his lungs.

The hooded figure stepped slowly into the room, her boots making soft, deliberate sounds against the carpet.

She stopped five paces away from him. Her eyes locked onto Howe’s pale, trembling face like two burning coals.

When she finally opened her mouth, her voice was low, cold, and echoing with hatred.

"Why did you touch him?"