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

Chapter 165: The White Ravens Meet the Shadows of the Castle



A Return to the Castle Cave

The night’s wind had settled, leaving behind a stillness that clung to the mountain. The only sounds were the soft, near-silent footsteps of Seraphis and her five new creations—the White Ravens—making their way back into the depths of the castle cave.

The castle loomed above them, its cold stone walls carved from the heart of the mountain itself, blending seamlessly into the darkness. It was not merely a fortress—it was a domain. A place where secrets thrived and shadows stretched endlessly.

Seraphis moved with purpose, her long coat trailing behind her. The newly reborn White Ravens followed in disciplined silence, their footsteps light, their new bodies adjusting with every movement.

The journey through the outer halls was lit only by enchanted lanterns, casting elongated shadows against the walls. The air was thick with arcane energy, a quiet reminder that this place was unlike any other.

As they passed through the corridors, the magic-infused stone reacted to Seraphis' presence, the runes etched into the walls pulsing faintly, as though recognizing their master.

The five warriors remained silent, absorbing their surroundings, memorizing the structure of their new home.

It was only when they reached the heart of the castle cave that Seraphis finally spoke.

"Tonight, you will meet the ones who came before you."

She stepped forward, pushing open the heavy doors to the inner sanctum.


The First Meeting

The doors groaned slightly as they swung open, revealing a vast, dimly lit chamber beyond.

At its center, seated gracefully on an elevated stone dais, were three figures—Elowen, Sylvaine, and Theia.

Elowen, the quiet strategist, her golden eyes calm and calculating, her long dark green hair braided down her back. She was the one who excelled in precision and tactics.
Sylvaine, the phantom in the night, her black hair flowing freely, her piercing violet gaze sharp as a dagger. She was the executioner, the one who thrived in the deadliest of missions.
Theia, the wild card, her silver-white hair shimmering, her expression unreadable. She was the fastest, the most unpredictable, the one who acted on pure instinct and finesse.

They had been Seraphis' first. The foundation of her growing force.

As the five newly formed White Ravens stepped inside, the air grew heavy, thick with unspoken power.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then, Elowen’s golden eyes flicked toward Seraphis, studying the newcomers.

"So, these are the ones you’ve chosen?"

Seraphis nodded, her expression unreadable.

"They are the first of a new unit. The White Ravens."

Sylvaine’s violet gaze swept over the five figures before her. She was not easily impressed.

"They move well," she murmured. "But can they kill?"

Aerisiel, the fastest of the five, lifted her chin slightly. "If you question our ability, test it."

The tension sharpened—an unspoken challenge.

Theia smirked, standing up from her seat.

"I like them," she mused. "They’re already confident. That’s a good sign."


The First Exchange of Blades

Confidence alone was not enough.

Seraphis knew that. So did Elowen, Sylvaine, and Theia.

"If they are to stand beside you," Seraphis said slowly, "they must prove themselves to you."

The words were not a request.

They were a command.

Sylvaine’s lips curled into a smile—cold and knowing.

"Then let’s see what they’re capable of."

She moved in a blur.

One moment she was standing, the next, her dagger was flying toward Aerisiel’s throat.

A test.

Aerisiel reacted instantly. She did not step back—she leaned forward, twisting her body to the side, allowing the dagger to pass a mere inch from her skin.

Then, she struck.

Her hand shot out, fingers reaching for Sylvaine’s wrist, but Sylvaine was already moving, spinning with unnatural grace, flipping over Aerisiel’s extended arm, and landing behind her.

"Fast," Sylvaine murmured. "But not fast enough."

Aerisiel’s eyes narrowed.

She understood now.

This was not just a greeting—it was an evaluation.

And so, the others followed.

Elyndra met Elowen’s calculating strikes with strategic counters, adapting mid-battle.
Vaelora clashed with Theia, their speed almost blinding as they tested each other’s limits.
Lorienna anticipated, dodging Sylvaine’s feints, proving her foresight.
Yveris stayed still, observing, before stepping in at the perfect moment to disrupt an attack.

It lasted only minutes, but in that time, the assessment was complete.

Seraphis watched, her arms crossed, her gaze unreadable.

Finally, Elowen lowered her blade.

"They will do," she said.

Sylvaine chuckled, tossing her dagger into the air and catching it smoothly.

"Not bad," she admitted. "They’re worth training."

Theia smirked.

"Welcome to the shadows, White Ravens."


The Oath of the Ravens

Seraphis stepped forward, her presence commanding.

"You have proven yourselves," she said. "But your true test begins now."

The five White Ravens straightened.

"You were reborn in my image. You exist in the darkness. You walk the path of the unseen."

She raised her hand, and the air around them hummed with magic.

"From this moment on, you are more than warriors. You are my blades. My will. My unseen force."

She extended her palm.

"Swear yourselves to me."

One by one, they stepped forward, placing their hands over hers.

Aerisiel. "I swear."
Elyndra. "I swear."
Vaelora. "I swear."
Lorienna. "I swear."
Yveris. "I swear."

A surge of pure, unshakable magic sealed the oath.

Seraphis lowered her hand, her expression unreadable.

"Then from this moment forward, you are the White Ravens of the Shadows."

The torches flickered, as if the very castle itself acknowledged their vow.

Theia smirked. "This will be fun."

Elowen merely nodded. "Then let’s begin their true training."

Seraphis turned, her cloak billowing behind her as she walked deeper into the castle.

"Follow me."

And the White Ravens did.

Their journey had only just begun.

 
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