The silence in the underbelly of Valeria was suffocating. As dusk settled over the city, the usual noise from the taverns and the back-alley deals had dulled to an eerie stillness. It was as if the entire criminal underworld was holding its breath, waiting for the next move.
Aran stood in a nondescript corner of one of Valeria's most infamous alleys, his cloak drawn tightly around him, his face obscured by shadows. The operation tonight had to go flawlessly. This time, it wasn't about subtle manipulation or creating fear—it was about striking a deadly blow when it mattered the most.
His target was Damian, one of Kade's key lieutenants, a man known for his ruthless efficiency and an iron grip over his portion of Valeria's black-market trade. Damian was the kind of man who controlled through brute force, a man who believed loyalty was earned through intimidation.
But that was precisely what Aran planned to exploit. Damian ruled through fear, and fear was a double-edged sword.
Ravenna stood beside him, silent and focused. In her hand, she clutched a small vial of poison—a concoction she had brewed specifically for this mission. Aran's plan wasn't just to kill Damian; he wanted to send a message, one that would reverberate throughout Kade's network.
Aran's contacts had already spread rumors that Damian had been meeting with one of Kade's rivals in secret. Whether or not the rumors were true didn't matter—what mattered was that Kade's lieutenants would start to question each other's loyalty. All Aran had to do was make sure that Damian died in a way that pointed to betrayal.
The alley was dark, save for the faint glow of lanterns in the distance. They had arranged for Damian to be alone tonight, having intercepted and manipulated his usual meeting schedule. Everything was falling into place.
Aran gave a brief nod to Ravenna, who slipped away silently into the shadows. She would be in position when the time came, ready to execute the second phase of the plan.
Minutes ticked by. Aran's patience was unshakable, his heartbeat steady. Finally, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Damian appeared at the end of the alley, flanked by two of his men, his face twisted into its usual scowl.
Aran's lips curled into a thin smile beneath his hood. He had anticipated the extra security. As the three men made their way into the alley, Aran melted into the shadows, his form nearly invisible against the darkness.
Just as Damian stepped into the center of the alley, Aran struck. A single, precise motion sent a dagger flying through the air. The blade embedded itself into the throat of one of Damian's guards before the man even had time to react. Blood sprayed in an arc as the body crumpled to the ground.
The second guard barely had time to draw his sword before Aran was upon him, his movements swift and lethal. With a quick twist of his wrist, he disarmed the man and plunged a second dagger into his chest, silencing him with deadly efficiency.
Damian, now alone and wide-eyed with shock, staggered backward, reaching for the sword at his side. But Aran didn't give him the chance to draw it. He stepped forward, his blade glinting in the dim light, pressing it lightly against Damian's throat.
"Do you know why this is happening?" Aran asked, his voice low and cold.
Damian's breathing was ragged, his eyes darting wildly in search of an escape. "W-who are you?" he choked out, his voice trembling.
"That's not important," Aran replied. "What matters is that Kade no longer trusts you."
Damian's eyes widened further in horror. "What? No! That's a lie!"
"Is it?" Aran whispered. "Rumors are already spreading. Kade thinks you've been meeting with his rivals. Even if you survive this night, you'll be marked as a traitor."
The words hit Damian like a hammer. Aran could see the panic setting in, the fear seeping into his bones. But before Damian could protest further, Aran struck.
With one swift motion, he slashed the dagger across Damian's throat, leaving a deep, fatal wound. Blood gushed from the cut as Damian crumpled to the ground, gasping and clutching at his throat in a futile attempt to stem the flow of his life force.
Aran stepped back, watching dispassionately as Damian bled out on the cobblestone street. It was a messy death, but that was the point. He wanted it to be found, to be talked about.
He heard Ravenna's light footsteps behind him, signaling that she had completed her part of the plan. Aran turned to her, giving a brief nod. "It's done?"
She handed him the vial, now empty. "Done. The poison will spread slowly, causing a natural-looking death within hours. Kade's men will assume he was poisoned by his rivals."
Aran smiled faintly. "Perfect."
Together, they vanished into the shadows, leaving Damian's body behind. By the time the night watch or any of Kade's men found him, it would be too late. The rumors would spread, and Kade's suspicions would grow.
Aran didn't need to be in the room when Kade confronted his lieutenants. He didn't need to see the fear that would grip them, the doubt that would tear them apart. He had already set the wheels in motion.
This wasn't just about removing one of Kade's key players. It was about sowing chaos, turning Kade's own strength against him. And when the time came, Aran would be ready to strike again.
---
In Kade's stronghold, the tension was already palpable. Word of Damian's death spread faster than anyone anticipated, and by dawn, the entire network of the Shadow Hand was buzzing with fear and uncertainty. The lieutenants gathered in Kade's war room, each man casting wary glances at the others.
Kade sat at the head of the table, his face a mask of cold fury. Damian's death had been a message, and Kade knew it. But the question that burned in his mind was simple: Who had the audacity to send it?
His grip tightened on the armrest of his chair as he scanned the room, his mind racing. His empire, his control, was slipping. And for the first time in years, Kade didn't know who was behind it.
But whoever it was, they would pay.