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

The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine as I made my way through the dense forest. The mission was complete, and Gregor the Red’s head rested securely in a cloth sack strapped to my waist. The journey back to the Guild should have been uneventful.

But fate had other plans.

As I stepped through the underbrush, something stirred.

A figure—standing motionless beneath the moonlight, just beyond the treeline.

I froze.

He was clad in black armor, his presence an unnatural void against the silver glow of the night. His helmet was featureless save for a single, thin slit where glowing red eyes peered through. A greatsword rested on his back, its wicked edge catching the light.

A name surfaced in my mind.

Varian the Black Reaper.

A wanted man. A knight-turned-mercenary, known for his brutal efficiency and unmatched swordplay.

A bounty worth five times what I made for killing Gregor.

An opportunity.

I smiled.

“You’re on the wanted list, you know,” I called out, my hand resting lightly on my deck of cards.

His head tilted slightly. His voice, when he spoke, was a deep, hollow growl.

“And you’re in my way.”

The air shifted.

A fight was inevitable.

The Battle Begins

He moved first.

I barely had time to react before his sword cleaved the air where I had been standing. The force of the swing sent a shockwave through the forest, splitting trees in its path.

I darted sideways, flipping into the air as I released three cards. They curved toward him like silent assassins.

But—

CLANG.

He deflected them with his gauntlet, his armor barely scratched.

“Tch.” Annoying.

I landed on a low branch, crouching as I assessed his stance. His speed was unnatural for someone wearing full plate.

This would take effort.

I flicked another card—a feint.

The moment his blade moved to block it, I dashed in.

My dagger found a gap between his plates, slashing into his side.

A hit.

Or so I thought.

His gauntlet slammed into my ribs, sending me crashing into the dirt.

I rolled just in time to avoid his sword impaling the ground beside me.

He was strong.

But I was faster.

Dancing with Death

I exhaled sharply, pushing off the ground. The pain in my side told me a rib was bruised. Maybe cracked.

It didn’t matter.

I flicked my hand, sending ten cards into the air.

Then I closed my eyes.

And let them see for me.

The world shifted—I was everywhere at once. Above him. Around him. Inside the fight itself.

My cards rained down like daggers.

He swung wildly, deflecting some, but not all.

One embedded into his shoulder. Another slashed across his helmet, leaving a thin crack.

He staggered.

An opening.

I moved.

In a heartbeat, I was behind him. My dagger sank into the joint of his armor—

But—

Pain.

His armored elbow smashed into my jaw, sending me reeling.

I tasted blood.

He turned, sword flashing, aiming for my throat.

I barely managed to twist away, but the blade bit into my arm.

Deep.

I gritted my teeth. My vision blurred for a second, but I couldn’t afford to falter.

I had to finish this.

The Final Strike

I needed one clean shot.

He came at me again—reckless, aggressive. His injuries slowed him, but he was still dangerous.

I pretended to stumble. Let him think he had me.

He took the bait.

His sword came down in a heavy arc.

I vanished.

In reality, I had shifted—stepping just inside his guard, where his massive blade was useless.

And then—

I drove my dagger into his throat.

For a moment, he stood there, still gripping his sword.

Then his knees buckled.

Blood pooled around him. His red eyes dimmed.

With a final, gasping breath, he collapsed.

Dead.

I leaned against a tree, my chest rising and falling.

My body ached. I was bleeding. But I was alive.

I reached down, gripping his helmet.

With a sharp pull, I removed it. His face was pale, his features twisted in shock.

Another bounty collected.

I wiped the blood off my blade and got moving.

I still had to get back to the Guild.

And the night was still young.