Chương 19: The Sound of Thunder and the Edge of the Blade

The click of the inn room's lock was still echoing when the first flash of lightning ripped through the Oakhaven sky. The storm was not just heavy; it was claustrophobic. Water collapsed in heavy curtains, washing over the stone pavements and turning the dirt roads into a dark quagmire that swallowed boots. The wind howled through the gaps between the houses, but to Kuro, that deafening noise was the perfect silencer. Adjusting the Black Mask over his face, Kuro felt the damp fabric stick to his skin.

His eyes, focused and cold through the slits in the cloth, mapped out the high stone wall surrounding the corrupt noble's mansion. Beside him, Liora moved with the grace of a shadow. She also wore her disguise, her hand resting calmly on the hilt of her Katana. She was only fifteen years old, but her posture was that of a veteran. Kuro leaned his body forward, the rain beating violently against his hood. He glanced sideways at his partner.

Even in that filthy scenario, under the freezing water and imminent danger, he flashed an invisible half-smile behind the fabric and whispered near her ear, his voice emerging perfectly relaxed against the sound of the tempest.

"You look beautiful just the way you are." Liora did not waver, but her eyes narrowed beneath the mask, a mixture of military focus and that slight irritation toward the sharp jokes that only Kuro could pull from her. Before she could retort, Kuro slipped his hand inside his cloak and pulled out a small, reinforced glass vial.

"Take it," he said, handing the potion directly into the girl's gloved hand.

"Courtesy of Mireya. If things get tight inside, use it." Liora stowed the vial into her belt with a firm nod. Kuro pulled her closer into the recess of the wall, pointing toward the distant lights of the estate. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"I studied the layout of this mansion," he reviewed, his analytical mind operating at high speed.

"There are ten guards in total across the entire property, with two fixed at the study door inside. Our target has a wife and a daughter. The plan is to enter through the window of an empty room on the second floor and infiltrate." Liora adjusted her grip on the Katana's scabbard, tensioning her leg muscles for the leap.

"If the guards spot us, I engage them," she decreed, her voice cold and cutting.

"I have more experience in physical battle. You are tasked with proceeding straight ahead and killing the target."

"Deal," Kuro replied, testing the hilt of the short sword at his waist. In the next second, the sky split in two. Thunder echoed with such violence that it made the ground tremble, drowning out any other sound for miles. It was the signal. Like two shadows cast by the wind, Kuro and Liora propelled their bodies and scaled the high stone wall, dropping perfectly into a crouch onto the soaked grass of the inner courtyard. The outer patrol moved through the darkness.

Two guards marched with spears in hand, wiping rainwater from their eyes. They never saw death coming. Kuro, calculating the distance, made a surgical movement: his fingers released two throwing knives that sliced through the rain, embedding themselves directly into the targets' throats. At almost the exact same millisecond, Liora glided through the mud without making a single sound, the reflection of the lightning gleaming on the edge of her Katana as she eliminated the third guard with a clean, dry slash.

Without wasting time, the two grabbed the bodies and dragged them into the estate's high brush, clearing the sector. The courtyard was deserted. Running flush against the mansion's damp wall, Kuro located the high side window on the second floor. Using the masonry gaps as leverage, they climbed with agility, forced the wooden latch open, and invaded the dark room, closing the window against the storm. The sound of the tempest outside became a muffled echo. The room smelled of dust and mahogany.

Kuro took two steps forward, blood dripping from his clothes and from the tip of the short sword he held firmly in his right hand. He looked at Liora in the gloom and whispered behind the black cloth, "We cannot afford mistakes.