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Chapter 149: Return to the Assassin’s Guild
Chapter 149: Return to the Assassin’s Guild
A Familiar Path, A Different Weight
The streets of the city were alive with their usual rhythm—merchants calling out their wares, workers hauling crates down the cobbled roads, the occasional patrolling guard casting wary glances at passersby.
Yet, for Seraphis and her companions, there was a distinct shift in the way they moved.
The last time they had walked these streets, they had been hunters on a warpath. Their movements had been quick, purposeful, brimming with deadly intent. But now?
Now, they walked with the weight of victory on their shoulders.
And victory was heavier than they had expected.
The Assassin’s Guild Looms Ahead
The familiar sight of the Assassin’s Guild came into view, its looming structure unchanged yet strangely different in their eyes.
It had always been a place shrouded in shadow, where whispered contracts led to silent deaths. Where the strong survived, and the weak disappeared.
And yet, as they crossed the threshold, there was no triumphant feeling. No rush of adrenaline.
Just the quiet acknowledgment that they had returned.
The guildhall was as busy as ever. Rogues, mercenaries, and hired blades crowded the open chamber, gathered around mission boards or sharing drinks over hushed conversations. The smell of burning candle wax, oiled steel, and aged parchment filled the air.
Heads turned as they walked in.
Some recognized them. Some only heard the rumors.
All of them knew what they had done.
And they knew who they had defeated.
Silent Recognition
A few assassins nodded in respect. Others whispered behind hands, trying to piece together fact from fiction.
Seraphis ignored them.
She had no desire for praise, no interest in basking in the aftermath of their mission.
She hated the feeling of standing in a room and being looked at like an animal freshly returned from the hunt.
Her gaze swept across the guildhall until it landed on the far end of the room, where a familiar figure stood behind the counter.
Variel.
The guild’s senior handler, the one who had given them the contract in the first place.
His usual neutral expression didn’t falter as they approached, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of approval, perhaps? Or was it relief?
"You're back," he said, his voice even, unreadable.
Seraphis rested a hand on the counter. "Obviously."
"And the Tower?"
Kaela smirked. "Let’s just say… they won’t be giving us trouble anymore."
A Mission Completed, But At What Cost?
Variel studied them for a moment before nodding.
"Then it’s done."
The words should have brought a sense of satisfaction, but instead, they felt hollow.
Seraphis had lost count of how many contracts she had completed over the years, how many targets she had eliminated without a second thought.
But this?
This had been different.
This hadn’t been just another job.
And no matter how many times she told herself that they had done what needed to be done, there was still an unsettling feeling twisting in her gut.
The Price of Victory
As if sensing the tension, Sylvaine crossed her arms. "So, what now?"
Variel didn’t answer right away. He studied them, his sharp eyes picking apart every injury, every lingering exhaustion written on their faces.
"You rest," he finally said.
Seraphis narrowed her eyes. "That’s it?"
"For now."
Variel’s gaze was unreadable, but there was something behind it—something he wasn’t saying.
She didn’t like that.
She didn’t like unfinished conversations.
But for now, she let it go.
The Guildmaster’s Summons
Just as they were about to leave the counter, a new voice cut through the air.
"Seraphis."
She turned sharply, her hand instinctively twitching toward her belt.
Standing near the archway leading to the upper chambers of the guild was an older man, clad in black robes lined with silver thread.
The Guildmaster.
A hush fell over the room.
The assassins who had been whispering before were now silent, their gazes shifting between Seraphis and the man who rarely left his private quarters.
"Come with me," the Guildmaster said, before turning on his heel and disappearing up the stairs.
Seraphis exhaled sharply.
"Great," Kaela muttered. "More mysterious summons."
Sylvaine elbowed her. "Shut up and follow."
Inside the Guildmaster’s Chamber
The room was dimly lit, the walls lined with old maps, ancient texts, and trophies of past kills.
The Guildmaster stood behind a massive wooden desk, his fingers lightly tapping against the surface.
"You have done well," he said, his voice steady.
Seraphis didn’t respond. She simply waited.
The Guildmaster leaned forward slightly. "But the job isn’t over yet."
A New Threat Looming
Her eyes narrowed. "Explain."
The Guildmaster tapped a piece of parchment on his desk.
"The Tower is gone. But the power vacuum it left behind is already being noticed."
Seraphis clenched her jaw.
She should have expected this.
When you dismantle an empire, there is always something lurking in the shadows waiting to take its place.
The Next Move
"Rival factions are stirring," the Guildmaster continued. "Some see this as an opportunity. Others… as a threat. You and your team have made quite a name for yourselves."
Seraphis grimaced.
She had never cared for names. For recognition.
She was a ghost, a shadow, an assassin who worked best when no one knew she existed.
Now, they all knew.
A Choice to Make
"What are you asking us to do?"
The Guildmaster’s expression remained unreadable.
"I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m telling you—keep your blades sharp. This city isn’t done with you yet."
Seraphis hated cryptic warnings.
But she hated being unprepared even more.
She glanced at the others.
They had come here expecting closure. Expecting an end.
Instead, all they found was another beginning.
And somehow, that felt inevitable.
Walking the Path Again
As they left the chamber, the weight in Seraphis’s chest had shifted.
Not lighter.
Just… different.
Kaela sighed loudly. "I swear, can we ever just finish a job without it leading to another one?"
Sylvaine smirked. "That’s what happens when you’re good at what you do."
Seraphis said nothing.
Because deep down, she knew the truth.
This was who they were.
This was the life they had chosen.
And no matter how many contracts they completed, no matter how many battles they won…
The path of an assassin never truly ended.