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

The capital was behind her.

Seraphis walked the long, winding road leading back to the town she called home. The night air was crisp, and the moon hung high above, casting a silver glow over the landscape.

She kept her pace steady, blending into the darkness as she traveled alone.

By the time she reached the outskirts of town, the first hints of dawn were creeping over the horizon. The familiar sights welcomed her back—the crooked rooftops, the dimly lit taverns, the hushed murmurs of the underground world.

But she had one destination in mind.

The Assassins’ Guild.

A Grand Entrance

Seraphis didn’t knock.

She kicked the doors open and strode into the guild like she owned the place.

A few heads turned. Conversations paused.

Some assassins recognized her. They whispered among themselves, speculating about what she had done this time.

She ignored them.

Her target was straight ahead.

The Guildmaster’s office.

The Guildmaster

The door slammed open.

"Hello, old bastard! What you up to?"

A man sitting at a cluttered desk sighed heavily.

He didn’t even look up from the mountain of papers in front of him.

"First off," he muttered, flipping through a document, "I’m not old. I’m in my forties."

Seraphis smirked and flopped onto the couch in the corner of the office.

"Yeah, yeah. For an assassin, you’re ancient. You should be retired by now."

The Guildmaster, Reynard Vael, finally looked up.

His dark brown hair was streaked with silver, and his sharp gray eyes held the weight of experience and exhaustion.

"You're insufferable," he said dryly. "I assume you’re here because of what happened in the capital."

Seraphis stretched, grinning.

"Oh? So you’ve heard the news?"

Reynard folded his arms. "Let me guess… it was all you."

She placed a hand on her chest dramatically.

"Guilty as charged."

Reynard rubbed his temples.

"You killed a Queen, destroyed the Bro family, and put a new ruler on the throne. Do you realize how much chaos you've caused?"

Seraphis tilted her head.

"Do you realize how much fun I had?"

Reynard let out a deep sigh and sat back in his chair.

"You always bring trouble wherever you go, Seraphis. I should’ve kicked you out of the guild years ago."

Seraphis chuckled.

"Yeah, but then who else would keep you entertained?"

The Guildmaster shook his head.

But despite his words, she could see it—the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

He was amused.

And more than that—

He was impressed.

The Guild Reacts

Word of Seraphis’ recent actions had already spread through the guild.

Assassins came and went, whispering in hushed voices about the fall of the Queen and the shift in power.

Some admired her.

Some feared her.

And some… wanted her dead.

She could feel their eyes on her as she left the Guildmaster’s office.

A few assassins—ambitious, reckless ones—glanced at her with calculating stares.

They were thinking about it.

Thinking about challenging her.

Seraphis grinned.

"If you want to try, be my guest."

Her hand hovered over the metal playing cards at her hip.

The air grew tense.

Then—

The assassins looked away.

None of them were foolish enough to make a move.

Not yet.

A Night to Remember

Seraphis made her way to the guild’s bar, ordering a drink and leaning against the counter.

The bartender—a gruff, one-eyed man named Marek—slid her a glass of whiskey.

"Didn’t think I’d see you back here so soon," he muttered.

Seraphis raised an eyebrow. "And why’s that?"

Marek smirked. "Figured you'd be dead by now."

She laughed, taking a sip of her drink.

"Please. It'll take more than a few nobles and an angry king to get rid of me."

She glanced around the room, watching the other assassins go about their business.

There was a storm brewing in the underworld.

The Queen was dead.

The kingdom was in transition.

And in the shadows—power struggles were beginning.

Seraphis smiled to herself.

"This is going to be fun."