Forge Of Fate: A Blacksmiths Journey

The assassins had been bold, but now, they were walking into a carefully laid trap.

Gregor and Rourke watched from the shadows as a small team of killers approached one of the "safe houses" in the city. The assassins moved with trained efficiency—silent steps, perfectly timed signals, and weapons drawn without hesitation.

"They're getting too comfortable," Rourke muttered, gripping the hilt of his heavy sword.

Gregor nodded. "That's about to change."

The moment the first assassin stepped onto the threshold, the trap activated. The floor beneath them collapsed, sending three of them plummeting into an underground chamber reinforced with mana-restricting sigils.

The rest scattered in different directions, attempting to escape.

A mistake.

From the rooftop, crossbow bolts laced with Sylvia's paralyzing alchemy struck two in the back. They hit the ground convulsing, their limbs locking up as the potion took effect.

Gregor sighed, dusting his hands. "And that's how you catch rats."

Rourke grinned. "Time for the fun part."

The surviving assassins were dragged to a secure location, bound in reinforced chains.

Meanwhile, in a separate part of the city, Kalem and Jhaeros had set up a quiet stakeout. They had been tracking a suspicious group moving through the marketplace—too many silent figures with hidden blades.

"They're searching," Jhaeros whispered, his keen Ilvaar senses picking up the subtle shifts in movement. "Looking for targets."

Kalem tightened his grip on a small throwing knife. "Then let's make them think they found one."

He stepped forward, making sure his presence was known, appearing alone. The assassins hesitated—recognizing him but uncertain if they should take the risk.

One of them signaled, and two disappeared into the alleyways, attempting to flank him.

Jhaeros smiled. "Predictable."

As soon as the assassins moved into position, Velka, his dire-wolf companion, emerged from the darkness, a low growl rattling in her throat. The moment they realized the trap, it was too late—Jhaeros struck from above, and Kalem used his precise, non-lethal combat techniques to subdue the rest.

Within minutes, another group of assassins was captured.

As the academy struck back, another force was beginning to intervene—the Bank.

Within a dimly lit chamber, several representatives of the Bank's higher council discussed the matter with their own enforcers.

"This chaos is bad for business," one of them said, fingers drumming against the polished wood of the table. "Clients are withdrawing assets. Wealthy families are hesitating to invest."

A woman in dark robes, a high-ranking member of the Bank's security division, nodded. "Then we intervene. If these assassinations threaten our stability, we remove the source."

A message was quietly sent to those who financed the Blood Nights.

The Bank was officially declaring neutrality over.

Anyone interfering with their profits would now be seen as an enemy.

As dawn approached, the assassins who had once hunted so confidently found themselves being hunted. The academy, the Bank, and independent forces like Kalem's group were now actively eliminating their presence.

But even as the academy fought back, one truth remained clear:

This war wasn't over yet.