The portal hissed as it closed behind us, and I found myself standing in the middle of a dense forest. The moonlight sliced through the branches above, casting long shadows across the ground. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the only sounds the rustle of leaves and the soft calls of nocturnal creatures.

  Garland stepped out beside me, his eyes scanning the area with an unnerving calmness. He straightened, his long cloak flowing behind him like a shadow in the night.

  "Is this really how you intend to fight me?" His voice was almost casual, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "A mere child thinking she can kill a king?"

  I didn't answer. My gaze stayed steady as I reached for the dagger hidden in my sleeve, feeling the cool steel against my fingers. My body was already tense, my mind focused entirely on him.

  Garland chuckled softly, and the shadows around us seemed to respond to his amusement, twisting unnaturally. "Let's see if you can truly handle what's coming, assassin."

  With a snap of his fingers, the shadows surged, and suddenly, he was no longer alone. Shadowy figures, each a perfect copy of Garland himself, emerged from the darkness, their forms flickering like smoke. They moved toward me, surrounding me in a web of darkness.

  I didn't hesitate. My portal magic flared to life as I leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the first strike from one of Garland's shadow copies. I materialized behind another, aiming a precise strike, but the shadow vanished just as quickly as it appeared. Garland's laughter echoed around us, and he smirked, clearly enjoying the game.

  "You can't defeat me with tricks, little girl. It's going to take more than your little portals."

  The forest seemed to shift with Garland's magic, the shadows twisting and warping as though they had minds of their own. The copies of Garland were everywhere, closing in from every direction. I was forced to keep moving, dodging and leaping between trees, trying to keep my distance, but his shadows moved with unnatural precision, as if they anticipated my every move.

  My breath began to quicken, my body starting to feel the strain. I'd been on the run for hours, dodging attacks and countering with portals, but Garland's relentless barrage was beginning to wear me down.

  "You fight well for a trained killer," he taunted, his voice echoing from the darkness. "But you're not a warrior. You don't have the strength to face me head-on."

  I gritted my teeth, forcing my focus to remain sharp. He was right about one thing—I wasn't used to fighting someone like this. His shadow magic was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The shadows didn't just follow his commands; they seemed to have their own will, their own hunger. It was as if they were feeding off the night itself.

  Each time I thought I had a break, another shadow would appear, a new threat, forcing me to keep moving. I couldn't keep this up forever. I had to find a way to turn the tide.

  As I continued to dodge, I remembered the tapestries I had seen earlier in Garland's palace, the ones depicting his battles and the shadows that followed him. The moon. It had been full in the images, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield.

  I didn't have time to analyze the significance at the moment, but now, it all clicked. The shadows weren't just some form of magic. They were tied to the moon, to the power of the full moon. Garland's magic wasn't at it's full strength, but it was starting to be amplified tonight.

  And tomorrow—tomorrow would be even worse.

  My pulse quickened as I realized that his shadows were growing stronger with every passing moment. I couldn't keep dodging. I had to end this.

  Instead of retreating, I steeled myself, deciding to confront him head-on. I stopped running and turned to face the shadows head on. Garland smirked, sending a wave of shadow copies charging toward me. But this time, I was ready.

  Using my portal magic, I created openings behind each shadow, striking with precision. My blade found its mark as I cut through each one, disappearing and reappearing as I attacked from unexpected angles. Garland's expression faltered for the first time.

  Finally, I saw an opening. The real Garland was standing near the center of the clearing, watching his shadows fight for him. I gathered every ounce of my focus and, using a well-timed portal, I closed the distance between us in an instant, my dagger aimed straight for his heart.

  Garland's eyes widened in disbelief as my blade pierced his side. He staggered back, falling to one knee with a pained grunt. His hands reached for his wound, but the strength seemed to drain from him as his shadows flickered and dissipated into the night.

  "You remind me of him..." he gasped, his breath shallow. "Your father... You are truly a Belfour."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I stood over him, breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. His words were a warning, but not for me—not anymore. There was something else behind his gaze, something I couldn't quite place.

  "You think killing me will stop what's coming," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "The war has already begun. You've only delayed the inevitable."

  His words cut through me, the weight of them pressing down on my chest. Despite the years of training, despite the countless kills I had made, this felt different.

  As Garland exhaled his last breath, I stood there in the stillness of the forest, my hand still gripping the dagger. The shadows of the night had fallen, and with them, the king's life.

  And for the first time, I felt the full weight of my actions.

  The moment Garland's body went still, I did not hesitate. His warning meant nothing to me—I had already chosen my path. There was no room for doubt. No room for mercy.

  I tore my dagger from his chest, wiped the blood on my sleeve, and turned back toward the portal. The Kingdom of Garland was waiting.

  And I was not done.

  No one in the palace knew their king had fallen. The night carried on as usual—guards patrolled lazily, nobles slept in their silk beds, and the queen remained tucked away in her chambers, unaware that death was coming for her.

  I moved through the halls like a shadow, striking before anyone could scream. Each kill was precise. Silent. A slit throat, a dagger to the heart—nothing that would raise an alarm.

  The Queen was first. Her door was locked, but that meant nothing to me. A single portal bypassed it, and before she could even open her mouth, my blade found its mark. Her death was quick, her body limp against the velvet sheets.

  Then came the advisors. The men and women who had whispered war strategies into Garland's ears, who had fueled his ambitions. Some sat in candlelit chambers, pouring over documents, unaware of my presence until it was too late. Others were fast asleep, meeting their end before their eyes could even open.

  One by one, they fell. None will live to see the morning.

  Alistair and his younger sister were the only ones left.

  Unlike the others, they were not in positions of power. They were children, locked away in a secluded wing of the palace. Unaware. Untouched.

  I stood outside the prince's door, blood drying on my hands. My heartbeat was steady. My breathing calm.

  The door creaked as I pushed it open.

  Alistair sat on the edge of his bed, staring at me, his expression unreadable. His sister lay beside him, curled up in sleep, blissfully unaware of the nightmare standing before them.

  He did not ask why I was there. He did not reach for a weapon. He only watched.

  I took a step closer, my dagger glinting in the dim candlelight.

  The choice was mine.

  I stared at Alistair. He didn't move. He didn't resist.

  His little sister shifted in her sleep, her small frame curled beneath thick blankets, completely unaware of the decision I was about to make.

  The dagger in my hand felt heavier than before. All it would take was one strike—one clean cut, and I could erase the Garland bloodline forever.

  And yet... I didn't.

  I reached into my belt, pulling free a small dart coated in fast-acting sedative. I had used this countless times before—on targets, on obstacles, on people who stood in my way.

  This felt different.

  I flicked the dart forward. A sharp prick. A quiet gasp. Alistair's body slumped, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths. His sister followed soon after, never waking.

  I lowered my arm, exhaling slowly. Killing them would have been simpler.

  But I wasn't here just to end a reign—I was here to change it.

  I dipped the quill into the inkwell, pressing it against the parchment as I wrote.

  To the People of Garland,

  This decision does not come lightly. My meeting with King Belfour has shown me that I am not the leader this kingdom needs. The time for change is now.

  Alistair will take my place as king. He will guide this nation into a new era, one free from my mistakes. I ask you all to support him, to trust in his rule, and to seek wisdom from the Belfour Kingdom.

  Lead with your heart, my son.

  I signed it with a careful flourish, mimicking Garland's handwriting. Beside it, I scrawled a second letter from the queen, reinforcing the king's words with a mother's touch.

  It was a lie.

  But it was the only way I could ensure Alistair ruled without suspicion.

  I folded the letters, sealing them with Garland's own signet. When they woke, they would have no reason to question it.

  They would believe their parents left them behind.

  And no one would ever find the truth.

  I moved swiftly through the halls, making sure no one saw me. The castle remained blissfully unaware of what had happened. The night still carried the hum of celebrations outside, music and laughter filling the air.

  No one knew their king was dead.

  No one knew their queen was gone.

  One by one, I tracked the bodies I had left behind—Garland's closest advisors, his most trusted commanders, and finally, the king and queen themselves. I opened a portal beneath them, letting their lifeless forms vanish into the void.

  I stepped through after them, emerging in a remote, desolate clearing deep in the wilderness. It was untouched, hidden from the world.

  It would be my graveyard.

  The place where all my victims would rest.

  For the first time, it was empty. But it wouldn't be for long.

  I gazed at Garland's lifeless body, then at his queen. My work was done.

  Before leaving, I summon a surge of mana, channeling it into the ground as I carve my initials into the earth. The symbols ignite with an eternal flame, burning with an eerie, spectral glow—a brand upon this forsaken land, marking it as mine. This place will be more than just a graveyard; it will be my legacy.

  I may not wield the shadows as Garland did, but I have learned from him. I take a page from his book, weaving my mana through each lifeless corpse, binding them to this site. They will not simply rot away—they will stand guard. If anyone dares trespass, they will rise. Their bodies may be still, but their spirits remain tethered to my will, an unseen force ready to awaken at my command.

  But that is not enough. I need certainty.

  Raising my hand, I trace an intricate sigil in the air, shaping the mana into a protection seal. The energy pulses outward, encasing the site in an invisible barrier. Only two ways in exist now—with me, or by force. If they break the seal, they will regret it.

  Satisfied, I take one last look at the flickering flames, the bound corpses, the seal that cements this place as my own. This is no longer just a burial ground. It is a warning.

  Without another word, I turned and stepped back through my portal, leaving the dead behind.