"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin"

The dim candlelight flickered over Lord V’s desk as Seraphis rifled through stacks of parchment, letters, and coded documents. The scent of old ink and spilled blood mixed in the air.

Her silver eyes scanned the writings, taking in every detail.

One name stood out.

Princess Lysara—the Fourth Princess of the Kingdom.

Seraphis narrowed her eyes. A royal conspiring with the underworld?

The more she read, the darker the truth became. Lysara had been torturing prisoners, abducting commoners for twisted "games," and funding underground death pits.

And the King and Queen knew nothing?

Seraphis smirked.

This changes everything.

She looked at the fresh corpse of Lord V, sprawled across the floor.

His dead, lifeless eyes stared upward—his mouth twisted in the final grimace of death.

She pulled out a single playing card.

Time to put him to use.

The Infiltration

The royal castle loomed in the moonlight, a towering symbol of power and wealth.

Seraphis walked right through the front gates.

The guards never stopped her.

A simple hypnotic whisper in their ears, and they let her through without question.

Inside, the grand halls stretched like a golden labyrinth. Servants scurried about, nobility danced in candlelit corridors, and knights in polished armor patrolled the pristine marble floors.

None of them saw her for what she was.

She became invisible in plain sight.

She wove through the corridors, stopping only to whisper commands to the castle staff.

By the time she reached the kitchen, the cooks were already under her spell.

"Prepare a special dish," she murmured.

They obeyed without question.

She retrieved Lord V’s remains from her dimensional storage, carefully cutting and seasoning the meat.

It smelled divine as it sizzled over the fire.

By the time the dish was complete, no one would suspect what it truly was.

She plated the "delicacy" herself.

Then, she carried it straight to the Fourth Princess.

Dinner with a Princess

Princess Lysara sat in her lavish silk-draped chamber, surrounded by golden candelabras and soft velvet cushions.

She had long crimson hair and piercing emerald eyes, a beauty that masked the sickness within her soul.

She looked up as Seraphis entered, holding a silver tray.

"You’re a new maid," Lysara said, raising a delicate brow.

"Yes, my lady," Seraphis replied with a polite smile.

Lysara waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine. Just set the food down. I’m starving."

Seraphis carefully placed the platter before her, removing the lid with an elegant flourish.

The scent of richly seasoned meat filled the air.

Lysara took a bite.

Her eyes lit up.

"This is delicious," she said, chewing slowly.

Seraphis grinned.

"I’m glad you think so."

Lysara licked her lips. "What kind of meat is this?"

Seraphis leaned forward, her voice honeyed with amusement.

"Lord V."

Lysara’s fork clattered onto the plate.

She stared at Seraphis, her face going pale.

Seraphis tilted her head.

"What’s wrong, my lady? You liked him so much when he was alive. Why stop now?"

Lysara gagged, her hands trembling.

"You’re… you’re lying."

Seraphis laughed softly.

"I never lie."

Lysara staggered back, choking on her own breath.

Then Seraphis struck.

SLK!

Her blade sliced cleanly through the princess’s throat.

Blood gushed, splattering across the pristine white tablecloth.

Lysara’s body slumped, her head lolling to the side.

Seraphis grabbed a silver platter from the table.

With one swift movement—

She severed the princess’s head.

A Message to the King

The next morning, a sealed letter was delivered to the King.

His royal attendants bowed low as he opened it in the grand throne room.

His expression darkened as he read the first lines:

"Your family has made a grave mistake.
Mess with me again, and I will take everything from you."

The King’s hands clenched.

He turned to the second note.

"Open the silver platter."

A servant hesitated, but at the King’s nod, he removed the lid.

A severed head stared back at them.

The Fourth Princess’s lifeless eyes held the same frozen terror from her final moment.

Beside it, another pile of documents.

The King’s blood ran cold as he skimmed through them—evidence of Lysara’s crimes, her conspiracies with Lord V, her brutal torture chambers.

A thick silence fell over the throne room.

Then—

The King staggered back, trembling.

"Investigate," he rasped. "Verify if this is true."

The guards scrambled to obey.

But deep in his heart, the King already knew.

It was true.

And that meant—

His kingdom had just provoked the worst kind of enemy.