Chapter 85: Death
The lake shimmered like black glass under the moon.
Three guards waited at the edge, armor dull and silent under the pale glow. They shifted uneasily, boots scraping pebbles.
"Why do I feel something's off?" the blond whispered. "We're just convincing Miss Leah… right?"
"Yeah," said the mustached one, arms folded. "But she scares me more than Captain Edric."
Kyle hugged himself. "Jovie hid her strength. Leah's worse. I swear something's wrong—"
A cold gust slithered through the trees, carrying pine and something else.
Something heavy.
The forest fell unnaturally silent.
No insects.
No birds.
No wolves.
Just breath and heartbeat.
Then, two silhouettes stepped from the treeline.
Leah was the first to emerge from the trees. She slowed, then lifted an arm with an exaggerated wave.
"Ah! Hey there!" she called, smile bright and careless. "Didn't think you three would sneak out, too. I heard Roval wanted to talk," she added, glancing over her shoulder at Jovie.,
Inside, she scoffed.
That idiot actually brought her back?
She had sent Roval out with clear instructions—break Jovie, shatter her pride, leave her half-dead in the woods.
Jovie's charm irritated her. Even the Wizards looked at her too long.
Even Lord Ariel asked about her. That bitch…
Leah's smile thinned.
If Jovie survived tonight, she'd eventually attract influence. And influence needed to be snuffed out.
But Jovie walked beside her, fresh and unharmed, her clothes neat.
No fear. Not even discomfort.
Either Roval failed… or Jovie coaxed him.
Pathetic. Then I'll kill her myself.
Beside her, Jovie walked silently, eyes scanning the guards.
The three men straightened as the women approached.
"You're here, Miss Leah!" one greeted awkwardly.
Leah nodded. "Mm. Why are you all outside the perimeter?"
"Waiting for Roval," replied the blond, Mike.
Jovie blinked. "Why would he tell you to come?"
"No idea. Said he'd come soon."
Before Leah could respond, the air behind them rippled—like heat distorting stone.
A tall figure stepped out of the tree's shadow.
Not Roval.
A stranger.
Black hair. Cold eyes. A calm, unreadable presence that felt like a blade sliding into the clearing.
Raven.
The guards froze.
"H-Hey—who the hell…?" one whispered.
Jovie didn't flinch. Leah, however, stiffened—her playful expression dissolving into wary tension.
She stepped closer to Jovie and reached for her hand.
But Jovie's hand moved faster.
A dagger flashed.
Leah's breath hitched—her eyes widening—as cold steel entered her neck.
"W-W—"
Blood gushed instantly, soaking the front of her robe. She staggered back, clutching her throat, eyes wide and pleading as she turned toward the guards.
But she froze mid-step.
Raven was already among them.
His spear pierced the mustached guard's chest before the man even raised his arms. The force lifted him off his feet.
Mike and Kyle drew their swords in panic, but Raven spun the spear like a silver streak.
The blade sliced through Mike's throat cleanly, severing voice, breath, and life in a single motion.
Mike fell backwards, hands clawing his neck.
Kyle collapsed to his knees, dropping his weapon immediately.
"S-Spare—"
A hand brushed over his shoulder—Jovie's.
Her dagger slid neatly across his throat.
Kyle's eyes bulged. His breath rattled once before his body toppled.
All three were dead in seconds.
Raven exhaled. "Ruthless."
Jovie flicked the blood off her blade and tucked it back into her spatial ring. "They were trash."
Her gaze drifted to the corpses. "What now?"
Raven approached Leah's fallen form and drew a drop of blood from her fingertips, pressing it into his palm. The imprint pulsed inside his Shapeshift spell model.
Then he stripped her robes, folded them, and stored her naked body inside his spatial ring.
Jovie arched a brow. "That's it?"
Raven's face rippled. His bones shifted. His facial muscles compressed and reshaped. Skin paled. Hair lengthened. His eyes became Leah's shade.
He slipped into her robes and adjusted the sleeves.
"There are restrictions," he said casually. "When I use the spell, I don't just mimic appearances. I recreate their body, voice, strength, even their habits."
Jovie crossed her arms. "But only for ten minutes?"
"If they're equal to me in strength, yes. If they're lower rank—Rank-1—I can keep the form for ten hours. That's why I chose Leah instead of Roval."
Jovie gave a low whistle. "A real shapeshift. Not illusion. Impressive."
Raven nodded. "But the catch is harsh. If I turn back to my true form, I need a full day before I can cast again."
Jovie suddenly realized that this wasn't a complete shapeshift like before but only a face mimic.
'He can only shapeshift fully into Leah tomorrow, huh?'
"And Rank-3? Rank-4?"
He grinned slightly. "I can take Rank-3 for fifteen seconds at best. Rank-4… no. The gap is too wide."
Jovie narrowed her eyes. "Feels like you're hiding something."
Raven only smiled.
Inside, he kept the truth locked tight.
'When I finish comprehending the model… Rank-4 won't be impossible. But she doesn't need to know that.'
He was far too aware of her probing gaze—her mind-reading tendencies.
'If not for my spirit power… she would already see through me.'
Raven pulled out Roval's spear and stabbed it firmly into Kyle's corpse, angling it to suggest a violent struggle. Then he wiped the hilt with a handkerchief.
"Let's head back."
Without waiting, he strode toward the camp—now wearing Leah's face.
Jovie followed silently, eyes calculating.
…
They walked in silence for a minute before Jovie finally spoke.
"I thought you were just lucky," she said, studying him. "But when I heard the Rebel Prince killed the Empire's strongest Wizard… I was shocked. With your strength, how did you pull that off?"
Raven smiled faintly. "A small plan. And luck. If even one detail went wrong, I'd be dead."
"Luck is a talent," Jovie replied. "And you fooled Wizards and Walkers alike. Even I couldn't have done that."
Her gaze swept down his body.
"Your height might give away your disguise."
"As long as I avoid bright light, no one will notice." Raven shrugged. "What exactly was Leah's job? If I mess up her routine, someone will notice."
"She's Count Alden's head chef," Jovie said, tapping her spatial ring and pulling out several books. "I'm her attendant. Two other girls help. Memorize these recipes and you'll blend in."
Raven accepted the books and slipped them away.
"Why are you even here? Still chasing the Fragment of Death?"
Jovie's lips curled. "Oh? So you finally figured out the compass's purpose."
She paused, then continued quietly.
"I traced the death energy your compass released. It points to Raynor Territory. But I'm too weak to enter a necromancer's domain alone. So—I joined this expedition."
Raven did a subtle double-take.
She had reached the peak of Rank-2. One step from Expert Realm.
"What will you do after getting the Fragment?" he asked.
Jovie looked up at the bleak night sky, eyes hollow.
"I want to kill my father's first wife," she said flatly. "The Queen of Viser. She poisoned my mother and implanted a Chaos Seed in me so she could control me."
Raven didn't speak. Her words didn't need commentary.
'She's chasing vengeance…'
They reached the camp perimeter.
"Is this squad strong enough to reach the Ruins?" Raven asked.
"Normally? Zero chance," Jovie answered. "They would die before reaching the Wyverns' Nest. Five Rank-3 Wyverns are guarding that hill."
Raven frowned. "Even with three Expert Wizards and five Expert Knights?"
"They're nothing," she said simply. "But…"
Jovie leaned closer.
"…what if the Knights gear up using Rare-grade Aether Armor Sets?"
Raven's eyes widened slightly.
A million gold per set.
"That… changes things."
"And Count Alden hired three Wizards from the Wizard Alliance," Jovie added. "One million gold each."
"Why spend that much?" Raven asked.
"Because Agith Ruins contain artifacts made of Elven Steel, Mithril, Adamantine, Orichalcum, Alexandrite… The raw materials alone are worth fortunes."
Jovie continued walking as she explained.
"If Count Alden succeeds, he'll rise high. Fail, and his house becomes a joke—demoted, poor, forgotten."
"Greed always breeds betrayal," Raven murmured.
"Exactly. If he finds something priceless, the Wizards or Knights might assassinate him for it. Human nature." Jovie brushed aside a branch. "And then there are magical beasts, trap formations, and ancient curses."
They slipped quietly into the servants' tent area.
Most were sleeping, curled on mats or slumped against crates. Only a guard and a maid whispered near another tent.
"This one's ours," Jovie said, ducking inside.
The interior was tiny—just a mat and pillow.
Raven sat cross-legged and unfolded a recipe book. Jovie lay down, half her face buried in the pillow.
"Wake me at four," she mumbled. "We need to serve breakfast by seven."
Raven nodded and began reading.
Hours later, when starlight faded, he tapped her shoulder.
"It's four."
Jovie sat up immediately, combed her hair with her fingers, and stepped outside.
Her two fellow attendants were already preparing ingredients. Packaged meats, vegetables, and magical spices piled beside the fire.
Wizard Ariel wandered over, sleepy-eyed.
"Where's Leah?" he asked.
"She's sick, Sir Ariel," Jovie said without hesitation. "Resting."
"Hmph." Ariel scratched his head and left.
By then, the guards were waking up—stretching, shivering, grumbling.
Then someone shouted:
"Where's Roval?"
"Didn't he patrol last night?"
"His group didn't come back!"
Within minutes, unease spread like wildfire.
Three search parties were dispatched.
The sun wasn't even up when terrified guards returned from the lakeshore.
"They're dead!" one shouted. "Kyle, Tristan, Max—slaughtered!"
"And this… Roval's spear."
Chaos rippled through the camp.
Inside his main tent, Count Alden clenched his jaw.
"Where is Nash?"
The flap opened and a young man in silver armor stepped in. He bowed deeply.
"I'm here, my Lord."
"Investigate. Return only when you have answers."
"As you command."
Nash left and immediately began interrogations—sentries first, then patrols, then servants.
Eventually, his eyes fell on Jovie.
She was summoned.
Kneeling before him, she kept her voice soft and trembling.
"Last night… Leah and I went to bathe. Roval and his men appeared. They let Leah go… but kept me."
Nash's brows twitched. "And then?"
"I had no choice." She wiped a tear. "I agreed to his demands so he wouldn't hurt me. Afterward, he walked me back."
"Anyone see you return?"
"His men. Kyle yelled at him. I ran away."
Her performance was flawless.
He sent her back.
Then Nash questioned "Leah."
Raven mimicked her perfectly—voice, posture, expression.
"Kyle liked Jovie," he whispered. "But Roval… he tried to force himself on me once. They always fought over women. Maybe that's the reason."
Nash furrowed his brows. Unlike Jovie, he knew Leah very well and felt her reaction to his death felt off.
'I've seen them together a lot of them. But I don't see a sense of sadness. Well, fewer men, better for us.'
He dismissed her and returned to Count Alden.
"It was infighting, my Lord," Nash reported. "Roval killed his own men over jealousy, then fled."
Alden snorted. "Idiot. Issue an arrest order. And begin breakfast."
"Yes, my Lord."
Outside, the savory smell of stew filled the air as the servants worked.
Raven—still Leah—oversaw everything with calm precision, reciting recipes as though he'd been born in a kitchen.
The camp slowly shifted back to routine.