Michael stared down the aisle, refusing to sleep. Not that he could help it, of course. As an assassin with the blood of countless lives on his hands, sleep was an insecurity he couldn't afford. Especially now, in the mansion of an A-ranker whose family he had murdered.
It was eerie how Lexa hadn't grieved her loss. True, she'd sought revenge by equipping him for an almost impossible task, but where was the fire? Where was the outrage? The cries of "You killed my family, so you'll pay for it!"
Instead, her blue eyes carried an unsettling calmness, defying anger. She had even agreed to his lust-driven terms. And for that reason alone, Michael felt no comfort—certainly no safety.
He rose from his bed and moved to the open window. The night stretched across the horizon like a delicate fabric, its constellations glimmering tantalizingly close. The moon cast its soft glow over the mansion grounds, shimmering across the fountain's waters.
The serenity disgusted him.
As he scowled at the picturesque scene below, Michael caught sight of Lexa by the fountain. She was standing there, speaking softly to someone—or no one. He couldn't see anyone nearby.
She looked… ethereal. Her white nightdress clung to her curves in all the right ways, and for a moment, Michael thought about turning back to avoid temptation. But curiosity, and something more primal, compelled him to leap from the window and approach her.
"Too afraid to sleep?" Lexa asked without turning, her voice soft yet sharp.
"What was your big idea?" Michael asked, stepping beside her. "Bringing an assassin in and expecting him to feel comfortable?"
"But you seemed comfortable enough with my maid," she said, her tone laced with amusement.
"WHAT?! HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!"
"Her loyalty can't be bought," Lexa replied casually. "Thanks to her, I know just how far your lustful mind can go."
Michael stayed silent, the heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck.
"Anyway," she continued, "what are your plans?"
His silver eyes narrowed. "Plans?"
"Surely you're not planning to just waltz up to the Queen and take her out?" Lexa asked, visibly unimpressed.
"I was going to track her down—she's obviously always undercover. But now that I have Tier 50 on my side, it shouldn't be too hard."
"You idiot," Lexa snapped, her blue eyes glaring. "Your overconfidence will kill you."
"What makes you think I can't handle her?" Michael shot back. "With the right strategy, I can win—"
"Your inability to think rationally is giving me a headache." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You might think the Queen is an easy target, but that's exactly what they want you to think. She's remained hidden for centuries for a reason."
"I thought it was to avoid the wrath of the masses?" Michael frowned.
"That's the surface-level story," Lexa said, shaking her head. "In a monarchy, protecting the empire comes before appeasing the people. It's a necessity. But it's also a disadvantage—it breeds rebellion.
"Every coup, raid, or assassination attempt against the Queen has failed. The moment you think you're close to her, another tier will step in to 'kebab' you."
"Kebab? That's a bit dramatic," Michael muttered, though he couldn't shake the unease her words brought.
"You're good," Lexa admitted. "Your dark magic and skills are impressive. But against the Queen, you'll be crushed."
Michael clenched his fists. "Then why the hell did you ask me to do it?"
"Not because of your current strength," Lexa replied, her tone softer now. "But because of your potential to become stronger."
Her words hit Michael like a blade. Memories of his lonely past flashed through his mind—sitting in isolation on an empty farm while his peers thrived around him. The shame burned anew.
"Isn't strength what you're after?" she asked, her gaze steady.
Michael gritted his teeth. "So what if it is?"
"I live by the belief that 'you're never truly the strongest.'" Lexa paused, her voice taking on a note of finality. "If you think killing the Queen will give you satisfaction, you're on the wrong path."
"I'm not after revenge," Michael snapped.
"You're easy to read," Lexa said with a knowing smile. "I thought you were unpredictable when I first saw you, playing the piano in the middle of nowhere. But now? You're transparent."
"Don't act like you know me," he muttered. "We're bound by contract. That's all."
"Fine," she said with a sigh. "I won't tell you who you are just yet. Instead, I'll tell you your next target."
Michael raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"The Queen is surrounded by wings. If you want to get to her, you'll have to clip them first."
"'Wings'? You mean—"
"The Top 20," Lexa said, raising her hand. "The elite legions ordained by the King to protect the monarchy. They're divided into four hierarchies:
"First, the Five Horsemen—the most gifted A-rankers, Tier 16 to 20.
"Second, the Pawns—the eight S-rankers, Tier 8 to 15.
"Third, the Heart—the strongest gladiators in existence, holding rare ranks like SSS, from Tier 3 to 7.
"And finally, the Monarchs themselves. Some claim they're the strongest beings in the universe with Omni ranks, while others say they hide behind the Heart's strength. Either way, they hold Tiers 1 and 2."
Michael frowned. "And what's the point of telling me this?"
"My point is simple," Lexa said. "These are the Queen's wings. If she's strong, we'll confirm it by eliminating them.
"Your next target is clear: Tier 20—Nightshade."
"Nightshade? You mean the time manipulator? She's always in the Coliseum, beating people senseless."
Lexa smirked. "Good. Then the Coliseum is where you'll face her."