novelcity
Chapter 113: Elowen’s Hunt – The Serpent’s Fall
Chapter 113: Elowen’s Hunt – The Serpent’s Fall
The night air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked stone and the faint traces of burning torches. Elowen stood on the edge of a narrow rooftop, her emerald eyes locked onto the grand estate below.
Her target: Lord Alric Vessir.
A merchant lord turned noble, Vessir was a man of shadows—one who built his empire through poison-laced deals and blood-soaked contracts. He was a master manipulator, a man who thrived on control.
But tonight, he would lose everything.
A Fortress of Greed
Vessir’s mansion was more than just a home. It was a labyrinth of traps, hidden passages, and mercenaries trained to kill on sight. Unlike the last council member, he did not rely on brute force.
He relied on paranoia.
Elowen took a slow breath, adjusting the daggers strapped to her thighs. She ran her fingers over the hilts, feeling the familiar pulse of magic woven into the steel.
This was not going to be easy.
It was going to be fun.
The First Step
She moved like a shadow, her form barely a whisper against the cool night air. One step, then another, she leapt from the rooftop, landing silently on the outer wall.
Her fingers traced along the rough stone, searching… and there it was—a thin seam between the bricks. A hidden entrance.
She pressed her hand against it.
A faint click.
The wall shifted, revealing a narrow passageway leading into the depths of the mansion.
The Silent Descent
Elowen slipped inside, the darkness swallowing her whole. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and old parchment—a secret tunnel, untouched by time.
She moved carefully, her ears straining for any sound. Vessir was no fool.
There would be guards.
The First Kill
And there they were.
Two men, clad in dark leather, stood at the end of the passage. Their weapons rested at their sides, their posture lazy. They were comfortable, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows.
A mistake.
Elowen struck fast.
Her blade found the first guard’s throat before he could even exhale. A clean, silent kill.
The second turned, eyes widening. He reached for his blade, but Elowen was already on him. A flick of her wrist—her dagger buried deep in his ribs.
A strangled gasp.
Then silence.
The Throne of Coins
She moved forward, stepping over their bodies, her heart steady. The mansion was vast, but she knew where to go.
Vessir would be in his private chamber, surrounded by gold and secrets.
He was a man who believed wealth was power.
Elowen would show him true power.
The Garden of Shadows
She emerged into an open-air courtyard. Vessir’s private garden—a maze of marble statues and exotic flowers, all bathed in eerie moonlight.
She crouched low, her fingers grazing the damp grass. Guards patrolled in pairs, their movements precise.
A different approach was needed.
She reached into her pouch, pulling out a small vial. A gift from Seraphis—a toxin that induced hallucinations and fear.
She crushed it between her fingers.
A faint mist spread into the air.
Panic in the Ranks
The first guard staggered, his breath hitching. His eyes darted wildly.
He saw shadows moving.
He saw figures creeping in the darkness.
He screamed.
The others turned, weapons raised. Confusion spread through their ranks like wildfire.
Elowen moved through them like a phantom, striking in the chaos.
A blade to the back.
A dagger across the throat.
By the time the mist cleared, only one man remained standing.
A captain.
The Duel
He was different.
His stance was firm, his hands steady. He was no mere mercenary—he was a soldier.
“I know who you are,” he murmured.
Elowen twirled her dagger between her fingers. “Then you know how this ends.”
He lunged.
His blade was fast—almost too fast.
Elowen twisted, barely avoiding the strike. Steel clashed against steel, sparks flying in the cold air.
She ducked, rolled, and countered with a vicious strike, but he blocked it with ease.
A game of inches.
A dance of death.
A Fatal Mistake
The captain was skilled.
But he was not Elowen.
She feinted left—his guard shifted.
In that split second, she reversed her grip, her dagger sliding beneath his ribs.
A choked gasp.
His body collapsed.
Elowen wiped the blood from her blade.
Now, only one man remained.
The Merchant Lord
She reached Vessir’s chamber.
The doors were made of solid ebony, inlaid with gold. A symbol of power.
She pushed them open.
Vessir sat at a massive desk, stacks of gold and parchment scattered around him.
He didn’t look afraid.
He should have been.
The Final Confrontation
“Elowen.” He smiled, fingers steepled. “I was wondering when you’d come.”
She took a step forward, her dagger glinting in the candlelight.
“You know why I’m here.”
Vessir chuckled. “Oh, I do. But tell me… do you know why you shouldn’t kill me?”
Elowen tilted her head. “Go on.”
Vessir leaned back. “You see, girl, I own more than this mansion. I own secrets. Secrets your dear assassin guild would kill to have.”
He tapped a piece of parchment.
“Kill me, and this information goes public. I have contingencies. Do you really want that?”
Elowen stared at him.
Then she smiled.
The Execution
“You misunderstand something,” she murmured, stepping closer.
Vessir’s confidence wavered.
Elowen placed a single dagger on his desk.
“You think you’re powerful because you control gold and secrets.”
She leaned in, her lips near his ear.
“I control fear.”
Vessir moved to grab a dagger hidden beneath his desk, but Elowen was faster.
Her blade sank into his throat.
A wet gurgle.
His body slumped.
The mighty merchant lord, dead in his throne of wealth.
The Warning
Elowen wiped the blood off her dagger, glancing at the stacks of gold.
Then, she took one single coin, tucking it into her pocket.
A message.
To the Ivory Hand—wealth will not save you.
The Shadows Move
Elowen stepped out onto the balcony, the city stretching before her.
Another council member was dead.
And the hunt was just beginning.