The knight reacted with lightning speed, swinging his longsword in a desperate attempt to parry.
However, the dark figure moved like a ghost.
It easily evaded the blade, and its short dagger was plunged deep into the knight’s shoulder.
“Ugh — !”
The knight stumbled, enduring the excruciating pain to swing back in a counterattack.
But the shadow had already darted away, vanishing once more into the thick fog.
Then —
More figures in black cloaks surged out from all directions.
They were agile and swift, moving like specters of the night.
“How are there so many of them?!” the knights shouted in shock.
‘These people… they had been lying in wait here all along?’
The Bloodkin Knights quickly formed a defensive formation, standing back-to-back.
Yet, these cloaked assassins seemed to be everywhere, always striking from their blind spots.
A knight would block an attack from the front, only to be ambushed from behind.
Even with their armor, they struggled to fend off the relentless onslaught.
“Who are you?! What is your goal!” the lead knight roared, his gaze locked onto the surrounding shadows.
Just then —
Two figures slowly emerged from the dense fog.
One was tall and the other short; a man and a woman.
The man had dark skin and messy hair, wearing a flamboyant red coat and wide-legged trousers. He looked like a wandering bard commonly seen throughout the Kingdom.
The woman walking in front had her face completely hidden by her black cloak, making it impossible to see her features.
“Our goal is simple,” the woman’s voice drifted out from beneath the hood. “The Princess and her maid.”
The lead knight gripped his longsword tighter, glaring at her with fury.
Inside the carriage, Sista watched the situation outside with extreme caution.
The silver-haired girl in her arms gradually woke up, sitting up with sleepy eyes.
“What… what do they want…” Sista whispered.
In the valley, the flashes of cold steel never ceased.
The clanging of weapons and the roars of battle echoed through the air.
Though the Bloodkin Knights were powerful, they were outnumbered and gradually began to lose ground, barely managing to hold on.
The fog, instead of dissipating, grew even heavier, like a giant hand of darkness wrapping around everything.
Suddenly —
*Boom!*
A massive explosion erupted right beside them.
The sturdy carriage was forcibly broken open from the outside.
The door crashed heavily to the ground, and light instantly flooded into the interior.
In that short span of time, the Bloodkin Knights outside had all fallen.
They had not been killed, but a poisonous mist had entered their bodies, plunging them into unconsciousness.
The battle was over.
The woman in the black robe strode forward.
She stepped onto the shattered carriage door and suddenly raised her hand —
*Whoosh!*
She threw back her hood.
Red hair, as bright as fire, cascaded over her shoulders.
Her emerald-green eyes were as sharp as a cat’s.
The girl looked down at Sista, the corners of her mouth curling into a slight smirk.
“Returning kindness for malice, I’ve come all this way specifically to save you.”
“This debt of gratitude — how do you plan to repay me, Princess Sista?”
Her smile was not arrogant, but rather filled with a calm confidence, as if she held the entire situation in her palm.
Sista recognized her instantly.
That face, that voice — she was a former enemy.
She was an assassin who had once fought her in a struggle between life and death.
“Tii…?” Sista stared at her in disbelief. “The one who came to save me… was you?”
“Why?”
It did not make sense. It had only been a few hours since the King was murdered; how could news have reached an enemy nation so quickly?
And more importantly — why would a Phoenix save her?
They were supposed to be mortal enemies.
‘Could it be… she wants to capture me alive and take me back to Valivadan?’
While Sista was lost in thought, Su Ling suddenly stood up.
Her eyes sparkled with joy as she ran toward Tii.
“Tii!”
Tii blinked in surprise, her smile brightening further. She opened her arms and pulled the silver-haired girl into a tight embrace.
“Little Su Ling!”
“Ugh… I thought I’d never see you again…” Su Ling’s voice trembled slightly.
“How could that be?” Tii patted her back gently, her tone soft. “We haven’t seen the flower sea together yet.”
“You’re safe now.”
The two of them held each other intimately.
In contrast, Sista sat to the side, feeling incredibly out of place.
She gritted her teeth, her red eyes burning with a flare of indignation.
She had thought Su Ling would rely on her more. She never expected that Su Ling’s feelings for Tii would be this deep.
“Alright, Little Su Ling,” Tii said, taking her hand. “This isn’t a place to linger. Let’s go —”
Before she could finish, Sista suddenly stood up.
“Enough!”
She yanked the two apart and pulled Su Ling back into her own arms, holding her tightly.
Before Su Ling could even react, she was back in the Princess’s embrace. She looked up, somewhat dazed.
Sista was fuming with rage.
She could not bear to see the thing she cherished most being touched by someone else — especially by this dangerous and unpredictable assassin.
“Your Highness, what are you doing?” Tii raised an eyebrow playfully.
“What exactly is your goal?” Sista stared at her coldly, her voice thick with suspicion. “Speak plainly. What do you want from me in exchange for this rescue?”
“As expected of the Second Princess,” Tii chuckled. “Your guard is as high as ever.”
As the two faced off, a deep, gravelly male voice suddenly cut in.
“Allow me to explain.”
Sista looked up at the man dressed as a bard.
He used the tip of his boot to poke at the sword of an unconscious knight, the sound of metal scraping against the ground harsh and grating.
Beneath his red coat, the outline of a pouch for concealed weapons was visible.
Sista stared at the scar on his face, finding it strangely familiar. After a moment of thought, she finally remembered — this man had once been invited by the King into the Palace to perform.
She knit her brows, her eyes full of silent questioning.
The man seemed to read her expression and gave a soft laugh.
“Let me reintroduce myself.”
“Codename — Poet.”
“Formerly of Valivadan’s Black Feather assassination organization.”
As his voice fell, a bird was startled from the cliffside, and a black feather drifted down onto the carriage roof.
Sista’s pupils shrank. This man was actually an enemy spy?
She could not help but sneer. That foolish old King had actually invited a person like this into the Palace to perform.
But there was no point in thinking about that now.
“Give it up,” she said coldly. “I would rather kill myself than become a prisoner of Valivadan.”
“We have no such intentions,” Poet replied unexpectedly. “We didn’t come here to harm you.”
“In fact — we’re here to help you.”
“Help me?” Sista raised an eyebrow slightly.
“That is correct.” The man’s expression turned serious. “The Alliance has already obtained information regarding your **[Holy Seal]**.”
“Moria is not fit to be King,” he said slowly. “Princess Sista, we wish to assist you in ascending to the throne.”
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