'But if the assassin can become pregnant in the process, that would be best,' a slow, satisfied smile stretched across his lips at the thought. 'I will have a Wargrave within my hands. I would train them to bring about the ruin of their own family,' he mused quietly to himself, his eyes gleaming with calculated malice.

The very next second, he shook his head lightly, casting away the indulgent fantasy as he decided to focus solely on the present. He was a man of reality, not delusion. Fantasies were useless without execution. There was no need to rush, no need to leap ahead of himself. He would simply push his plans forward one step at a time, each carefully measured and deliberate.

Kill the Tenth Sun.

Secure the love of a Sun or a Moon.

Then, if possible, acquire a seed from the Wargrave.

The plan was simple in structure, but monumental in consequence.

As he was about to close his eyes, intending to wait for an hour before asking 'him' for answers, his expression abruptly twisted into a deep frown as he sensed something profoundly wrong. The instant that sensation registered within his perception, a cataclysmic explosion beyond every known proportion tore violently through the landscape and the city of the assassins.

Buildings shook violently, then shattered outright without even the slightest resistance. Tremors ripped through the land as an earthquake of unimaginable magnitude rocked the very foundation of the terrain itself. The air immediately grew heavy and suffocating as churning, swirling clouds of smoke and dust rose skyward, each concurrent explosion tearing viciously through the atmosphere.

Many assassins were erased before they could even blink, their deaths instantaneous and absolute. The sharp, metallic stench of blood surged into the air, saturating the environment. Before anyone could properly react, overwhelming killing intent and crushing presences bled into the sky with suffocating force and raw, unrestrained energy.

The Wargrave Knights had arrived.

Within a fortified building that remained miraculously untouched by the cataclysmic crescendo of destruction, the Assassin Guild Leader sat with a deep frown etched across his face. He did not need anyone to inform him of their identity. The insignia emblazoned upon their chestplates told him everything he needed to know.

'How?' he thought to himself. His plan had been perfect, precise, flawless, airtight. Yet he did not panic. A different thought immediately surfaced within his mind. If the Wargraves were here with such blatant killing intent, then did that not mean the Tenth Sun was already dead?

'Did Blue achieve mutual destruction?' he wondered briefly.

However, the very next moment, he forcibly discarded every stray thought from his mind. This was not the time for speculation. The Wargraves were standing in his front yard. First, he would kill them all. Then, and only then, would he gather every piece of information personally and immediately.

Although the headquarters of the Assassin Guild was meant to be hidden, unknown even to most sovereign powers, the Assassin Guild Leader was neither naïve nor foolish enough to believe it was truly concealed from beings of True power, such as the Emperor or the Dukes of the Zarethorne Empire. He did not waste time asking questions about how they arrived so quickly or how they breached his defenses. Such questions were irrelevant. He focused entirely on the present.

His senses expanded outward, spreading across the entire landscape, stretching for kilometers as every minute detail flooded into his awareness. At this moment, his only concern was identifying which Wargrave was leading the Wargrave Knights. His initial assumption was that it could only be one of the Great Elders, the First Sun, or perhaps even the Duke himself.

Yet the information revealed to him in real time caused him to pause.

'Just the Second Moon, the Third Sun and Third Moon, and the Fifth Sun?' he thought to himself, barely acknowledging the presence of the Knights themselves.

A deep frown formed on his face. None of the Wargraves present, in his estimation, were qualified to lead a battle of this scale. They simply were not strong enough, at least, not yet.

The next instant, he heard it.

The sound of the air above him shredding apart violently, like an overfilled balloon bursting beyond containment. His head snapped upward instinctively, but all his eyes met was a red spear tearing straight through his building like a knife through butter, descending toward his head in a single, devastating arc.

The Assassin Guild Leader's eyes widened in shock, but he did not hesitate for even a fraction of a second. The moment the red spear closed the distance with terrifying speed and force, he vanished entirely from his position, dodging the attack with effortless agility befitting a true assassin.

The red spear slammed into the ground with a titanic burst of force, tearing the earth apart and carving a massive chasm that spanned an entire kilometer from a single missed strike. Dust and debris erupted violently into the sky, clouding the vision of everyone present. The Assassin Leader's building was instantly reduced to rubble and scattered pebbles.

A golden streak tore down from the heavens in a brilliant flash, landing directly upon the butt of the spear that remained embedded in the earth under immense weight. Another thunderous explosion followed, further shaking the surroundings.

The Assassin Leader reappeared at a different location, his black eyes sharp and focused. He did not need to guess who had come for his head. The red spear alone was more than enough to tell him.

As the dust gradually settled, Azaron could be seen standing calmly upon the butt of his soul-bound weapon, Ender. His presence was overwhelming. The atmosphere itself shrieked and trembled simply because he existed at that precise time and place. He stood straight and immaculate, with no visible anger, no hostility written upon his face. There was nothing twisted or distorted in his expression. He appeared as though he had merely come for a discussion.

In stark contrast, the Knights surrounding him leaked bloodlust and killing intent so dense it seemed to stain the air.

At this moment, every assassin had already gathered, their numbers easily doubling that of the Wargrave Knights. Yet not a single voice rose in complaint or fear. No one questioned the disparity in strength. Numbers did not matter. They would all be crushed regardless.

"It's been a while, Valentine," Azaron's voice echoed calmly through the air, carrying the ease of someone who had arrived merely for a visit.

The Assassin Guild Leader, Valentine, did not attack immediately. He simply stood still, his gaze steady as he watched the man before him.

"Why are you here, Azaron?" he asked evenly.

Although he could already guess the reason, he chose not to jump to conclusions. After all, there remained the possibility, however slim, that Azaron had come merely to inquire about who had sent assassins after the Tenth Sun. There was no need to assume that Azaron already knew it was him.

For now, restraint was the wiser choice.

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