"INTRUDER!!!"
The moment the shout rang through the halls, both Ranya and I snapped to attention.
But strangely, the Witch—Lilith—remained seated, unbothered, almost amused.
The once quiet castle erupted into chaos.
"Intruder, kill—!"
"Catch them—!"
Clang… clang… clang…
The sound of armored boots, steel against steel, and urgent shouting filled the night air.
Without wasting another second, I sprinted toward the armor rack.
"Can you protect me for a few seconds?" I asked Lilith while preparing my exo-parts.
She smiled faintly, flicking her fingers in a lazy, fluid motion—gesturing from top to bottom like she was brushing dust from the air.
"Done." she said casually.
A dome of translucent magic shimmered to life around me, shielding me from any outside threat as I began the rapid installation.
I was a bit speechless at Lilith's casual display, but it wasn't the time to question it. This was an emergency.
I turned to Ranya.
"Defeat anyone suspicious. Don't hold back. If it's a threat—kill."
She nodded without hesitation, stepping back into the shadows.
As she slipped on her devil mask, her cold voice replied,
"Roger."
Then—she vanished.
I returned to my task. Once the installation was complete and the exo was running smoothly, I reached into the spatial bag and pulled out my weapon.
A heavy, reinforced iron shovel.
It felt… familiar in my hands.
Oddly so.
No… it wasn't my familiarity.
It was something from the memory fragments.
Someone else's battlefield.
But now, it felt like mine.
Seeing me take the shovel and give it a few test swings, the Witch chuckled softly.
"Not a sword, dagger, spear, or shield… but an iron shovel. You really are interesting, my prince."
I glanced away, feeling a little awkward under her amused gaze.
"I'm… not allowed to wield those things yet," I muttered, focusing on adjusting my grip.
"Oh… is that so?" she said while twirling a strange stick that had appeared in her hand—who knows from where.
A few moments later, I heard the sound of someone collapsing—twice.
When I turned toward the noise, I saw two assassins lying unconscious on the floor, their weapons still clutched in hand.
Confused but not about to question it, I took out a bundle of rope from my bag and began tying them up tightly.
"Never mind," the Witch said, watching lazily. "They're under an illusion spell."
"Just in case," I replied, finishing the knots. Once secured, I dragged them to a corner—somewhere they wouldn't roll around if things got chaotic.
And sure enough, the Witch suddenly stood up, brushing off her dress with a sigh.
"Hah… as I thought, this is a bit troublesome. Sorry, I'll be gone for a while, my prince. Will you be okay on your own?"
I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. But after a brief pause, I gathered myself and nodded.
"Yeah… I think I'll be fine."
She smiled at me, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"Okay… be careful, alright?"
Then, just like that—she vanished from my sight.
I stared at the spot she'd just been, the lingering traces of magic still flickering in the air.
"Gifted, huh…" I muttered, watching the light fade.
"But it seems like I can learn and apply it to rune magic," I thought, still staring at the spot where she had stood just moments ago.
Even while my mind wandered to magic theory, I didn't let my guard down. My senses stayed sharp—trained by both instinct and routine.
And sure enough, not long after she vanished…
I was greeted by more uninvited guests—five assassins.
But for some reason, their formation didn't feel like that of assassins. No… it was more like trained soldiers.
They moved as a unit—a team of five, each one taking a calculated position.
Three crossbowmen knelt in the back—one knee on the ground, the other bent at a clean 90 degrees, steadying their aim.
In front of them, two dagger-wielding guards stood like shields, ready to intercept anything that got too close.
The moment they fired—thwip, thwip, thwip—I twisted my body, dodging all three arrows.
Then I turned to face them, iron shovel gripped tightly in my hand.
After repositioning myself from the awkward twist, standing firm on one leg, I settled into a throwing stance.
With a swift motion, I activated the [Fast] rune embedded across my armor. Mana surged through the circuits—my body snapped forward like a loaded spring, shovel gripped tight.
Just before release, I activated another rune—[Weight].
Then—I let it fly.
Whoosh.
The iron shovel tore through the air like a cannonball, enhanced by the dual runes.
In a blink, it smashed into their formation, a blur of steel and force crashing down on them like judgment.
The two front guards were struck by the sheer force of the shovel's impact, their bodies torn and bleeding, while the one in the center was split clean in two. The shovel didn't stop—it continued its deadly path, crashing straight into the wall of my room.
BOOM!
The wall shook as the shovel lodged itself deep into the stone, disappearing into the darkness, leaving a large hole behind.
Damn!!
The remaining enemies were still stunned, and I didn't waste the opportunity. I quickly grabbed a kitchen knife I had prepared earlier and threw it at the necks of the two crossbowmen.
Why didn't I capture them? Judging from their formation earlier, I was certain they were soldiers, not mere assassins. Elite soldiers, at that. I couldn't afford to take any chances.
I watched as the knives sank deep into their throats, dropping them instantly. I turned back to my fallen enemies—three dead, two dying. It was over.
After ensuring the dying ones wouldn't survive—eliminating them swiftly—the room fell silent once again.
The only sounds that remained were the faint echoes of the battle and the steady rhythm of my breath.
The intruders were no longer a threat, but the silence in my room felt heavy.