The Silencers

"I've been to quite a few vampire soirées."

Grayson spoke with his usual nonchalance as he planted his silver sword into the ground and fetched a cigar from his tobacco pouch. Lighting it with ease, he continued, "Just the other night, I vividly recall the cordiality of Lord Norman and his butler, Klaus."

"However," Grayson took a puff of the cigar, casting a glance at Wystan as he quirked a heavy eyebrow, "I don't recall hearing any news about black sorcerers being granted an audience with the vampires. Parading around under the guise of Twilight is quite the insult to the vampire nobility."

The four Wystans burst into laughter in unison at Grayson's words. "Lone Wolf indeed lives up to his reputation. I do not doubt your intimacy with the vampires exceeds mine, considering I've been slumbering in the empire's prison for a century."

"That suits you well, just as the vampires belong in their stone coffins, sparing me the trouble of dispatching them one by one," Grayson replied, stroking the gleaming blade of his sword.

"And you? The empire has had a bounty on your head for ten long years. Will you continue being this weary Lone Wolf?" Wystan emerged from the shadow of his hood, his eyes glowing red, bearing into Grayson with a loaded gaze.

"The Lone Wolf is a reluctant choice, but should I seek allies, wolves only run with their kind, not with lost spirits and revenants..." Grayson closed his eyes and bowed his head, implying, "The latter is not worthy of loyalty."

"If that's the case, then it's time to turn the Lone Wolf into a mere spirit," Wystan's voice held a chilling sneer. Almost instantly, Grayson's eyes snapped open, and he retorted, "Even as a spirit, the wolf remains a wolf!"

Before the echo faded, he had already lunged to the right, soaring out several meters with the speed of lightning. His silver sword, cold and bright as moonlight, aimed for the head of Wystan.

The sound of tearing fabric filled the air, and the illusions dissipated. The real Wystan staggered back three steps, his hood torn asunder by the sword's edge.

"A Lone Wolf indeed. You're the first since my debut to discern my true form without relying on magic," Wystan admitted, raising his head to meet Grayson's icy gaze, revealing a white skull mask.

"Pity, I still couldn't rip off that ghastly mask of yours," Grayson withdrew his silver sword, staring down the grim visage of Wystan's mask.

"Perhaps there will come a day, but certainly not today. Until we meet again, Lone Wolf!" With those words, Wystan's figure faded into a black fog, leaving no trace behind.

"That's why I despise dealing with black sorcerers!" Grayson grumbled, sheathing his sword and taking a deep drag of his cigar. He exhaled a smoke ring and turned to Katheren, "They always hide and skulk. Before I can finish a single cigar, they vanish without a trace!"

"Are you sure they're not being smoked out by you? Mr. Smoked Meat, what sort of tobacco did you buy this time? Manure-flavored?" Elyra coughed and flapped her wings in distaste.

Grayson blew a smaller smoke ring towards her and watched her flit through it before replying offhandedly, "Actually, it's bird droppings flavor. How do you like that?"

Elyra fanned away the smoke and swooped down, snipping Grayson's cigar in half. The burning end fell to the ground.

"Just as well, I'll keep the other half for next time." Grayson clipped the remaining stub behind his ear. "Let's go," he said, turning to Katheren. "We've delayed long enough. If we go this way, we might still catch up to those cloaked figures!"

They followed the trail of the three cloaked men, quickly leaving the forest for the open snowfield. Grayson set Elyra to scout from the air, and she soon spotted the assassins.

Receiving her report, Grayson and Katheren hastened their pace, keeping a discreet distance. With Elyra guiding from above, they approached the Yeti Forest to the northwest of the City of Radiance.

Moments after entering the forest, the sound of beating wings filled the sky. Grayson pulled Katheren beneath a large tree, using its shadow as cover, and looked up to see a flock of formidable creatures passing overhead.

"The griffins. Andros moves quickly!" Grayson murmured, peeking towards where the mysterious figures had concealed themselves behind trees, stealthily watching the griffin riders fly away.

The little owl descended silently, her crimson claws landing sharply on Katheren's head. "I found the fish!" Elyra announced nonchalantly, as if her peck at Katheren had never happened.

Katheren looked up with annoyance, reaching to grab the owl, who deftly flew to perch atop Grayson's hat.

"As they move, we follow!" Grayson peeked at the vanishing figures and gestured to Katheren. They crept stealthily, stooping low.

After a quiet journey through the woods, Grayson and Katheren paused behind a snow-covered bush. Peering out, they saw the three mysterious figures encircling a woman in a clearing—it was Alyssia, the very one they'd been searching for.

"Miss Alyssia, what a pleasure to see you again!" one of the tall, slender robed figures, seemingly their leader, stepped forward and addressed her.

"I thought you had vanished without a trace!" Alyssia exclaimed in shock and anger. "What about the deal you promised me? Why wasn't Seraphine killed?"

"Don't worry, Miss Alyssia. We're here specifically to help you!" The leader's face remained hidden in the shadow of his hood, extending a black-gloved hand to her. "While we cannot yet secure you as a Holy Temple Guardian, we will ensure your safety and help eliminate your adversaries."

"I hope so. Seraphine and Grayson have been hunting me across the island. We'd better leave quickly!" Alyssia's voice was laced with anxiety as she moved towards the leader.

"No one can threaten you. Please, come with us," the leader reassured her, then probed, "You haven't mentioned us to them, have you?"

"Of course not. Even if I had, they wouldn't let me go. Would that not make me an isolated fool?" Alyssia frowned at the leader's insinuating question, evidently irritated.

"My apologies, miss. It wasn't my intent to doubt you. I just wanted to know how much our adversaries know about us. Now that I do, things will be much easier," the leader spoke soothingly, gesturing for her to accompany them.

As Alyssia prepared to leave with him, the leader suddenly twisted his hand toward her chest, a sharp dagger flashing from his sleeve, thrusting toward her heart.

Caught off guard, Alyssia sidestepped, but the blade pierced her shoulder. She stumbled and fell, clutching the wound as she hit the ground.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Alyssia bit back pain and looked up at the leader, encircled by the other two robed men.

"Because you no longer serve a purpose," the leader sinisterly chuckled. "Like the greedy village chief from the fishing village, death is the best outcome for you. The dead can't spill secrets!"