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

A New Name on the List

The flickering candlelight cast jagged shadows across the Assassin’s Guild Master's office. Seraphis leaned against the worn wooden desk, her silver eyes scanning the fresh parchment in her hand.

Another target. Another name.

Lady Seraphina Morvain.

Her lips curled in amusement.

"Another noble who thought power was best wielded through treachery," she murmured.

The Guild Master gave her a knowing look, the scent of old parchment and pipe smoke thick in the air.

"She's more than just another noble," he said. "She’s a serpent wearing a crown."

Seraphis arched a brow.

"Poisoner?"

The old man nodded.

"Not just any poisoner. She killed her entire family, including five siblings, to claim their estate. And that was just the beginning."

Seraphis tapped a finger against the parchment.

• Crimes:

  • Poisoning her family to seize control of their estate.

  • Creating and distributing addictive substances through underground alchemy.

  • Blackmailing rulers, nobles, and high-ranking officials with secrets she shouldn’t have.

"She’s untouchable," the Guild Master continued. "Surrounded by bodyguards, hidden behind layers of deception. Getting close won’t be easy."

Seraphis smirked.

"Good. I like a challenge."

She turned, stepping toward the door.

"Where is she?"

The Guild Master exhaled.

"The Morvain Estate. A place filled with poison and secrets. Don’t breathe too deep."

Seraphis didn’t look back.

"I’ll be back before sunrise."

And with that, she disappeared into the night.

The Estate of Shadows

The Morvain Estate loomed at the edge of the capital, shrouded in thick ivy and decay. Once a noble palace, it now stood like a forgotten tomb, its windows flickering with dim candlelight.

Seraphis moved through the garden—a deadly maze of rare, toxic plants. Nightshade. Belladonna. Bloodvines that could strangle a grown man.

Even the air felt tainted.

She pressed forward, stepping silently across the gravel path, her eyes scanning the towering manor.

Guards patrolled the balconies, their armor glinting under the moonlight.

"Predictable."

Seraphis scaled the wall, her movements swift and precise. She reached a high window, pressing a dagger between the panes. With a faint click, it swung open.

She slipped inside.

The Venomous Lady

The hallway was lined with portraits—faces of the Morvain family, all long dead.

Except one.

At the end of the corridor stood a grand mirror, reflecting a figure bathed in violet candlelight.

Seraphis froze.

Seated in a velvet chair was Lady Seraphina Morvain.

Long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her violet eyes shimmered with amusement.

She wore a deep purple gown, her fingers lazily swirling a glass of wine.

The air smelled sweet… too sweet.

Seraphis clenched her jaw.

Poison.

"I was expecting you," Seraphina whispered, her voice like silk.

Seraphis stepped forward, daggers gleaming.

"Then you should’ve run."

Seraphina laughed, a slow, melodic sound.

"Run? My dear assassin, I am exactly where I wish to be."

Then she moved.

The Duel Begins

Seraphina threw her glass, shattering it midair. A purple mist erupted, filling the room.

Seraphis jumped back, holding her breath.

The poison hissed against the wooden floor, corroding it.

Seraphina moved with unnatural speed, her hands producing thin glass needles—each one laced with death.

She flicked her wrist.

The first needle shot forward, barely missing Seraphis’ throat.

The second grazed her shoulder.

A sharp burn spread through her veins.

"Fast," Seraphis muttered, biting through the pain.

She lunged.

Steel met steel. Dagger against poisoned blade.

Seraphina twirled elegantly, her movements like a dance.

"Do you know what I love about poison, dear assassin?" she whispered.

Seraphis swung—a feint.

Seraphina dodged right into the real attack.

Seraphis slammed her knee into Seraphina’s stomach, sending her crashing into a table.

Glass shattered. Wine and poison mixed.

Seraphina coughed, blood on her lips.

But she smiled.

"Poison… doesn’t need to kill immediately."

Seraphis' vision blurred.

A trickle of sweat ran down her neck.

Her veins burned.

She had been poisoned.

The Final Strike

Seraphis staggered, gripping her dagger tightly.

Seraphina rose from the wreckage, untouched by her own poison.

"You're fading, aren't you?" she whispered.

Seraphis took a slow breath.

Then she grinned.

"No."

In an instant, she moved.

Seraphina’s eyes widened.

Seraphis feigned weakness—then struck low, slicing across Seraphina’s thigh.

The noblewoman gasped, stumbling back.

Seraphis didn’t stop.

A second slash—across the ribs.

Seraphina screamed, falling to her knees.

Seraphis stood over her, dagger raised.

The noblewoman's breath came in ragged gasps.

"You… think you've won?" Seraphina rasped, blood staining her lips.

Seraphis knelt beside her.

"No," she whispered. "I know I have."

With one swift motion, she decapitated Lady Seraphina Morvain.

The body slumped, lifeless.

The poison still burned in Seraphis' veins, but she clenched her fists.

She had won.

The Return to the Guild

The Guild Master didn’t look surprised when Seraphis threw Seraphina’s head onto his desk.

Blood dripped onto the wood.

Seraphis staggered slightly, still feeling the poison’s effects.

The old man smirked.

"I see you made it back alive."

Seraphis wiped her blade clean.

"Barely."

The Guild Master inspected the lifeless head.

"The Venomous Heir… finally dead. The nobles will rest easier now."

Seraphis scoffed.

"They shouldn’t."

The old man chuckled.

"Go rest. You’ll need your strength for what comes next."

Seraphis smirked, despite the pain.

Because she knew one truth:

There was always another name on the list.