The Assassination Targeting Niya.

Engim refrained from commenting and tapped the armrest of the chair with his finger.

Engim relished this sense of manipulating others, even if the other party was his own son. The intoxicating allure of power, aptly named a drug, ensnared individuals, leading many to perish in the pursuit of the scarcely attainable pinnacle of authority.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the entire realm of Sheng Luo currently teetered on the brink of peril. Any individual wielding power and influence stood the chance of ascending to the supreme throne of the emperor.

"Do you ascertain if there are any other forces behind Niya?" Engim's advancement to his current position owed not only to the support of the Sahm family but also to his own acumen.

The Sahm family boasted no shortage of progeny, especially in its branches. Yet, why was it that only Engim managed to distinguish himself among such a multitude of branches? This was closely linked to Engim's habitual circumspection in his actions.

Before every endeavor, Engim pondered meticulously to reach decisions.

Even in this instance, he proceeded with caution, even against someone purportedly an orphan like Niya.

"I have inquired. Niya is merely an ordinary orphan, abandoned shortly after birth. However, she was taken in by a café owner named—Lugansk Zoia, a mundane individual devoid of any combat prowess."

"Mm." Engim nodded in acknowledgment.

He had long dispatched individuals to gather information on Niya, and their findings concurred with Clark's account.

Had it not been for Niya's affront to Clark and the humiliation of the Sahm family, Engim would never have been aware of the existence of such a figure in Sacred Heart City.

Understandably, amidst such turbulent times of perennial conflict, orphans abounded. Who would spare a thought for someone like Niya?

"Speak of your plan. Even if she is a minor figure, we mustn't be complacent. It would be undesirable if the other party were to escape our nets."

Upon hearing Engim's acquiescence to his request, Clark's heart swelled with joy and he spoke forthwith: "Father, Niya is accompanied by a peculiar undead warrior, estimated to be of fifth-grade, seventh-tier strength. I intend to enlist the services of a streetwise fifth-grade, ninth-tier individual for five hundred gold coins, and then recruit a dozen or so agile soldiers to assassinate Niya!"

The Roland Continent was engulfed in ceaseless conflagration, a reality extending beyond the borders of the Sheng Luo Empire. The vast wars had given rise to a perennial entity: mercenaries.

Mercenary groups, large and small, dotted various regions of the continent. Their numbers ranged from a few individuals to tens of thousands. Mercenaries lacked territory and subjects to sustain them, yet they offered their services to nobles or kings in exchange for remuneration.

Substantial remuneration!

Maintaining a standing army imposed immense financial strain, especially during times of peace. But what if war were to break out? This was where mercenaries found their purpose.

They were true creatures of action, motivated solely by wealth, surpassing even the greediest of merchants—money, money, money, more money—the decisive factor in determining the outcome of a war.

This was a legitimate transaction; after all, where there was demand, there was supply. They were a product born of chaos.

Centuries ago, during the half-century-long religious wars that engulfed the land, mercenaries upheld the creed that money surpassed God in worthiness of faith.

The fifth-grade, ninth-tier warrior Clark had hired, more aptly described as an assassin than a mercenary, was a renowned figure in the underworld. Though not among the elite in terms of prowess within the assassin community, he had successfully dispatched sixth-grade adepts on multiple occasions, even assassinating a knight commander of a certain knightly order heavily guarded by sixth-grade adepts.

"Mm, five hundred gold coins, quite a bargain. As for soldiers, I will mobilize them for you: twenty exceptional soldiers, all of them my guards, loyal and formidable." Engim concurrently wielded both administrative and military authority in the Eastern Province, a truly influential figure in both civil and military matters.

Within the Sahm family, his status was second only to the family head and Imperial Minister of Finance, Valaj.

However, Engim himself was an ordinary individual devoid of combat prowess.

"Father, I shall proceed with the arrangements forthwith!" Clark exclaimed jubilantly.

"Mm." Engim nodded in assent.

As before, neither Yann nor Niya were aware of the looming conspiracy aimed at them. It wasn't that Yann failed to heed the lessons of the past, but rather that so much time had elapsed that both Yann and Niya had long forgotten. In daily life, who would constantly envision everything around them as potential threats?

Those who did so were either individuals in positions of power fearing clandestine schemes against them or sufferers of paranoia.

However, Yann and Niya were just ordinary people, unable to effortlessly discern the movements of enemies and unravel their conspiracies like protagonists in novels.

Moreover, as Yann knew that Lugansk Zoia would never allow harm to befall Niya, he didn't bother with heightened vigilance.

"Niya, let's head back. Today's training ends here," Yann instructed Niya. In truth, Niya's abilities had reached their limit several weeks prior.

It wasn't due to Niya's potential, but rather her status as a first-grade mage. Despite possessing an endless font of magical power, she remained a first-grade mage, unable to construct second or third-grade magical circuits within her body. With magic in her arsenal, she could only unleash first-grade spells.

For the past month and a half, Niya had been training tirelessly in first-grade magic, continuously unleashing her magic without interruption. Such an endless experience of magical release wasn't something every individual of her level could endure.

Only with the aid of a cheating device did Niya dare to undertake such training. No one else would do so unless they had extraordinary family backgrounds. Mages were akin to burning money; this was a universally recognized fact on the Roland Continent.

"Mm." After releasing the final fireball, obliterating a tree with a diameter equivalent to that of a bowl, Niya turned back.

"Wait!" Suddenly, Yann raised his hand, his expression vigilant as he scanned his surroundings.

The evening breeze rustled through the grass, and leaves swayed in the dimming sunlight. Wild beasts in the depths of the forest occasionally lifted their heads to the sky with hoarse cries. As for dangerous magical beasts, they were rarely seen near cities.

Yann closed his eyes, releasing his divine consciousness to scan his surroundings. A strong murderous intent was swiftly converging toward the location where he and Niya were situated, shrouded within the dense atmosphere of killing intent was an underlying sense of danger.

"Niya, I believe we are in trouble."