The man led him through muddy alleys untouched by light for ages. Crumbling walls closed in around them, and black water pooled in the cracks, reflecting the dim lamplight.

  The man's hand rested firmly on Kaiser's shoulder. His fingers were cold despite the warmth of his body.

  Kaiser didn't ask where they were going. He didn't care. Only his feet moved, step after step, sinking into the mud then rising slowly. His body was an empty shell walking wherever it was led.

  His mind remained trapped there. In the image of the orphanage collapsing amid flames. He heard their screams in his head. The sound of wood cracking. Windows exploding under the pressure of heat. He smelled the burning, the thick smoke that filled his lungs until he nearly suffocated.

  He didn't feel the cold, though rain battered his face. Didn't feel the weight of wet clothes. He felt only the weight of his heart.

  ***

  They arrived at a small tavern in the city's poorest district. A faded wooden facade, a broken window, a door with a rusty metal sign that swayed in the wind with a faint creaking.

  They didn't enter through the main door. They walked along the side wall where the smell of dampness and mold was much stronger. The man led him to a narrow back alley barely wide enough for two people. He stopped before a pile of rotting wooden barrels, pushed one aside, revealing a small wooden door nearly flush with the ground.

  He opened the door. A sharp creak pierced the alley's silence. The smell of old, cold air rose from within. He gestured for Kaiser to enter.

  Kaiser descended a narrow stone staircase. The steps were uneven, his feet slipping on the mud clinging to them. Each step produced a faint echo that bounced off the stone walls before disappearing into darkness.

  The air grew colder with each step. The tavern sounds faded gradually until he heard only his breathing and water dripping from the ceiling.

  ***

  Below was a small underground room. Its ceiling slightly low, its walls rough stone bearing traces of dampness and dark green mold stains. A single torch fixed to the wall, its small yellow flame dancing with every air current, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

  Two straw beds in opposite corners, a small wooden table in the middle with some metal tools, and on the opposite wall, a large kingdom map hung carefully, its edges slightly torn, marked with strange red symbols.

  "Welcome to your new home."

  The man said as he removed his wet coat, water spray scattering onto the stone floor.

  Under the coat, he wore dark, practical leather clothing, equipped with thin belts carrying daggers of various sizes. A lean middle-aged man, his eyes sharp as a stalking hawk's. Something like a smile rested on his face, but a smile that never reached his eyes.

  "My name is Ash."

  He said it in a calm tone, as if the matter held no importance.

  He sat on one of the wooden chairs, his back straight, feet planted firmly on the ground. He gestured to the other chair. Kaiser sat in silence.

  The sound of water drops falling from the ceiling filled the space between them. The smell here was a mixture of damp smoke, old wood, and leather.

  "I saw what happened at the orphanage."

  Ash said calmly, his tone carrying no sympathy, but not sarcastic either. Simply stating reality.

  "A true tragedy."

  Kaiser's heart trembled for a moment. He gripped the edge of the chair without realizing it, his knuckles turning white.

  "But I saw something else."

  Ash continued, his eyes tracking every small movement in Kaiser's face.

  "I saw you walk out of hell alive. Saw fire devouring everything around you, and you alone walking through it. I saw the power within you."

  He leaned forward slightly, torchlight reflecting in his eyes.

  "The world is a cruel place, Kaiser. It takes everything from you without hesitation. It took your family twice. Once when you were born, left alone in this world without father or mother. And once when they burned before your eyes. You can spend the rest of your life a victim crying in the darkness... or you can become the predator. You decide who lives and who dies."

  Kaiser felt a pang in his chest at the word "family." Were they really his family? Lily, Elara, Leo, the other children... Yes, they were. All ash now.

  Ash stopped before him, no longer sitting. He approached until he stood almost over him. He placed his hand on his head, fingers sinking slightly into Kaiser's wet hair.

  "Your power... shadow magic."

  He said it quietly, as if announcing an obvious truth.

  "It's the perfect magic for this world. Silent. Deadly. Merciless. Perfect magic for assassinations."

  Kaiser's mind stopped at the last word.

  "Assassination?"

  He asked in a low voice, slightly hoarse. His question held neither refusal nor acceptance, just an empty inquiry.

  Ash smiled, this time something like satisfaction appearing in his eyes.

  "Yes. I'll teach you how to use your gift. How to turn your pain into power. How to make the fire that consumed your life fuel, not a grave."

  Kaiser had no answer. Part of him wanted to scream, to say he didn't want to learn anything. Another part was completely paralyzed. And the part that remained was small, deep, dark... it took Ash's words and hid them like seeds waiting for the right time to grow.

  That night, Kaiser slept for the first time since the fire. Not because he wanted to, but because his small exhausted body could no longer bear wakefulness.

  But his sleep was filled with nightmares.

  Every time he closed his eyes, he saw fire. And each time, he woke gasping, drenched in cold sweat despite the room's chill. He stared at the stone ceiling above, making sure the fire wasn't there. Then returned to sleep, finding himself prisoner to another nightmare.

  And every morning, Ash woke him to begin training. He gave him no chance to surrender, didn't ask about his dreams, didn't comfort him. He woke him with a touch on his shoulder, his voice steady, neither rising nor falling.

  ***

  The following six months were hell of harsh training.

  Ash taught him everything he deemed necessary for survival and killing: how to move silently like a ghost, how to distribute his weight so the ground wouldn't creak under his steps, how to breathe slowly so no one would hear his breath even standing directly behind him.

  He taught him to use daggers and small weapons. He gave him a short dagger at first, its blade cold and heavy in Kaiser's weak hand. He taught him how to hold it, how to stab between ribs, how to cut arteries in the neck. At first, his hand trembled slightly. But over the days, the blade became an extension of his hand.

  He taught him how to read people's movements and predict their next step. He sometimes sat with him in the upper tavern, watching drunks and customers. He'd point to a man and whisper: "He'll steal the cup now." And the man would do it. Then he'd ask Kaiser to try. Gradually, Kaiser began to see what Ash saw.

  And most importantly, he taught him how to control shadow magic.

  Kaiser discovered he could shape shadows as he wished. At first, small black threads appeared moving between his fingers. Then he learned to solidify them, turning them into small knives. Later, he could form swords, spears, strangling ropes, or even a cloud of darkness hiding his presence completely.

  The power flowed from him easily, as if it had always been there waiting for the right moment. As Ash said, his magic was perfect for this work.

  But Ash didn't just teach him techniques. He slowly washed his brain, poisoning his soul with his twisted philosophy.

  "Never kill quickly, Kaiser."

  He would tell him during training.

  "A quick death is mercy. And we don't grant mercy. The real pleasure isn't in ending a life, but in taking it. You take their safety first. Then their loved ones. Then their hope. And when they become just an empty shell, only then do you grant them the final blow."

  At first, these words passed without settling. His mind was occupied with his grief, his pain, his memories. But over time, these words began finding a place within him.

  ***

  After six months of continuous training, came the first day of real combat training.

  Kaiser stood in the center of the room, his feet bare on the cold stone, his hand gripping a short dagger firmly. The dagger had become familiar to his hand. His breathing was steady, his eyes focused, staring at the man standing before him.

  Ash stood before him, apparently unarmed, his hands behind his back.

  "Today, we test everything you've learned. Attack me."

  Kaiser lunged.

  He moved quickly, everything he'd learned about weight distribution, silent feet, choosing the least expected angle, he used in that moment. His dagger swooped toward Ash's chest.

  But Ash was faster. He sidestepped easily, grabbed Kaiser's wrist, twisted, and Kaiser found himself airborne for a moment then on the ground. His back struck the stone hard, air expelled from his lungs at once.

  Kaiser rose quickly. He attacked again, this time from a different angle.

  Ash blocked the attack with the back of his hand, then spun gracefully, kicking him in the stomach. Kaiser fell again. He coughed, tasted something bitter in his throat.

  "Good. But not enough. Again."

  And Kaiser attacked. Once, twice, ten times. Each time, he tried to remember what worked and what failed. Each time, Ash blocked him, threw him, kicked him. But with each attempt, Kaiser improved.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  After an hour of continuous training, Kaiser was exhausted. His body covered in bruises, his breathing ragged, cold sweat covering his forehead, mixed with drops of blood from a split lip.

  But his eyes still burned.

  "Enough for today."

  Ash finally said. A faint smile appeared on his lips.

  "You're improving. Faster than I expected."

  ***

  Months passed. Half a year became a full year, then more. Kaiser's body changed, he began growing taller, his muscles became harder, his movements more fluid. He was no longer the child who arrived at this room. He became something else, a mix between child and man, between human and shadow.

  One day, after a year of training, Kaiser was training alone in the room. The torch on the wall cast its weak flame. He stood in the center, his eyes half-closed, his hands moving slowly.

  Around him, small shadow swords appeared and disappeared. Forming from darkness then dissipating. He played with them, making them spin around his body, gather above his head, descend before him in a single line.

  Suddenly, the door opened, and Ash entered.

  "Stop for a moment, Kaiser. I want to show you something."

  The shadow swords stopped moving, then evaporated in the air. Kaiser turned toward him, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  Ash said in a calm tone. "You have good control. But now, let's move to another stage. Merging elements together."

  Ash moved and stood in the center of the room. He raised his hand slightly, palm facing the opposite wall. He closed his eyes for seconds.

  Then, massive magical energy began flowing from him.

  Kaiser felt it immediately, as if the room itself changed. The air became heavier, heat rose suddenly.

  A wave of heat swept the room. Raw, powerful fire energy, pressing on Kaiser's chest, making his heart beat faster.

  Ash began moving his hand slowly, his fingers drawing marks in the air. He muttered inaudible words.

  In an instant, a massive fireball exploded from his palm. It shot out fast, a compressed mass of flame colored red-orange, then he began wrapping the fireball with electricity, launching it toward the opposite wall with tremendous force. The entire room shook, dust scattered from the ceiling.

  The ball exploded in blinding brilliance, bright light filling the room for moments. The heat was suffocating, the air became heavy to breathe.

  But Kaiser didn't see any of it clearly. Didn't notice the dazzling colors or the shape of flame or lightning. All he felt was the energy. The magical energy emanating from Ash.

  A shiver swept Kaiser's body, despite the high heat. He felt cold from within.

  His heart stopped for a moment. His mouth dried. His blood froze in his veins.

  *It's the same energy.*

  The same energy he felt that night at the orphanage. When he woke suddenly before the fire, when he felt something strange in the air. The same strange, repulsive sensation that woke him from sleep before hell broke loose.

  The realization struck him like lightning.

  He found himself staring at Ash's back, his hands trembling slightly. He wanted to scream, to attack him, to plunge shadow swords into his body now. Images of Elara, Leo, Lily, all the children, appeared at once.

  But he didn't move.

  Didn't blink.

  Didn't change his expression.

  He remembered everything Ash had taught him. Every lesson. Every exercise.

  *You must always stay calm. Never lose your composure. Even if the world is collapsing around you, you must stay cold.*

  Kaiser took a deep breath. Slowly. He tried to fill his lungs with air. Held it for a second, then released it quietly. Repeated the movement again.

  He buried all his feelings. Pushed everything inward. The fire. The children's screams. Ash's face above the flames. Pushed it away. Left only a cold face, calm eyes.

  He turned to Ash. "I understand. Merging magical spells together makes them stronger, probably for use against larger groups at once."

  Ash nodded. "That's correct. You'll have to merge a specific element with your primary element."

  Kaiser nodded. "I'll continue training."

  "Good." Ash said as he left the room.

  When the door closed behind him, Kaiser stood alone in the darkness.

  His face still calm. But his hands were trembling. He tried to clench his fingers into fists to steady them, but the trembling continued.

  Black, cold anger began flowing through his veins. Not burning anger that drove him to recklessness. But heavy anger. Steady. Like an icy stone sinking slowly inside him.

  But he did nothing.

  Kaiser simply waited.

  Weeks passed.

  He continued training as if nothing had happened. He smiled at Ash. Listened to his advice. Learned from him. Pretended the same curiosity.

  And every night, he lay on his bed. Staring into the darkness. Planning.

  Thinking through every detail. When. How. Where. What if he woke suddenly? What if he sensed the magical energy?

  He replayed the scenario in his head over and over. Imagined himself failing. Imagined Ash's look when he realized what he wanted to do. Then went back and modified the plan.

  He knew he had only one chance. If he failed, Ash would kill him without hesitation.

  It had to be perfect. No room for a single mistake.

  ***

  On a quiet, dark night, after a long day of training, Ash went to sleep.

  He lay on his bed. His breathing regular, deep. His chest rising and falling calmly. His face completely relaxed, no wrinkles, no apparent worry.

  Kaiser lay on his bed. But he didn't close his eyes. His eyes were open on the dark ceiling. He heard every sound in the room: the sound of wood groaning slightly, the sound of distant water drops. He heard Ash turn his body once, then his breathing returned to regularity.

  He waited.

  An hour. Two hours. All he focused on was the internal count of Ash's breaths. Ten breaths. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred.

  Until he was certain Ash was in deep sleep. Until his breathing became heavy, slow, with no sudden changes.

  Then, in absolute silence, he rose from his bed. He moved the cover from his body slowly to avoid making friction sounds. He placed his feet on the ground. The wood was cold on his skin.

  He made no sound. He moved like a ghost. Exactly as Ash had taught him. He carried his weight in a way that distributed pressure on several points so the boards wouldn't groan.

  He approached Ash's bed. Step. Step. Step.

  He heard only his heartbeat in his ears, loud, fast. He tried to control it, to slow it, but his body knew he was approaching something with no return.

  He stood beside him. Looking down at him.

  The man who taught him. The man who killed his family.

  He felt a brief moment of unreality. As if the entire scene wasn't real. But the cold air on his skin, and the weight of the energy he was about to summon, reminded him this was reality.

  Kaiser slowly raised his hand.

  The shadows in the room began to move.

  The darkness responded to his call. The air itself grew denser. The room's corners grew blacker.

  Shadows rose from the ground. From the walls. From under the bed. From every dark corner.

  They gathered above Ash's bed. Formed slowly. Kaiser watched them condense, transform from black mist into something solid, with weight, with edges.

  Dozens of swords of pure shadow. Sharp. Silent as death. No sound of friction with air, just thick silence enveloping the entire scene.

  They hovered above the sleeping Ash. Ready. Waiting for the final command.

  Kaiser closed his eyes for a moment, remembering his time at the orphanage.

  Then he opened his eyes.

  They were cold. Empty. Nothing in them but darkness.

  He dropped his hand.

  The swords struck.

  There was no sharp sound. Just a simple whoosh of air, then the sound of flesh being pierced. Once. Twice. Dozens of times. Blood splattered in the air. Its metallic smell immediately filled Kaiser's nose. He heard the sound of breaking bones.

  The swords pierced Ash's body from every direction. His chest. His stomach. His limbs. They tore him. Cut him.

  Ash opened his eyes for a moment. Wide eyes, disbelieving. He saw Kaiser standing over him. Saw the black swords piercing his body.

  He tried to scream. His throat moved. His mouth opened.

  But a shadow sword pierced his throat. Silenced him forever. The only sound that emerged was a choked gurgle, blood mixing with air.

  The swords continued tearing. Stabbing. Cutting. Ash's body shuddered for moments, then began to calm. His movements lessened. His breathing broke.

  Then... nothing.

  Until there was nothing left to cut. Until the body became just a mangled mass of flesh, drowning in a sea of blood flowing from the bed to the floor.

  The swords vanished. The shadows returned to their places.

  Kaiser stood over the bloody remains that was once Ash. He could feel the warmth of blood that had splashed onto his feet. But he didn't move to wipe it.

  He felt nothing. He tried to wait for something. Relief. Revenge. Joy. Regret. But he found nothing.

  Only emptiness.

  The calm that followed the act was more terrifying than the act itself.

  He turned and walked toward the door. Didn't look back at the bed. Didn't try to confirm he was dead. He knew.

  He opened the door slowly. The sound of hinges seemed loud in the silence. He exited to the corridor, then closed it behind him.

  He climbed the stairs. Each step on the wood was steady, without hesitation. He exited to the alley. The cold air outside struck his face.

  He walked in the dark streets. He didn't know where he was going at first. His feet moved on their own. But deep down, he knew where he was going.

  The Assassins' Guild.

  ***

  Years passed.

  Kaiser joined the guild. They didn't ask him much about his past. What mattered was what he could do now.

  He began taking contracts. The first contract was relatively simple. A wealthy merchant, his house full of guards. Kaiser hid in the shadows, watched the target for a short time. That same night, through the front door, Kaiser entered and killed everyone present.

  Each time blood stained his hands, he expected to feel something. But he felt nothing. Just mechanical movement. Take a contract. Study the target. Kill him. Return.

  His life was routine. Routine stained with blood. But for him, this routine was comfortable. No room in it for thinking. No time for memories. Just targets and delivery dates.

  He became one of the most sought-after assassins. His name whispered in the underworld with fear and respect.

  He was cold. Competent. Merciless.

  He had become exactly what Ash wanted him to be. A perfect killing tool. Without ties. Without hesitation.

  Until that day came.

  A new contract. Target: an adventurer named Hikari.

  Kaiser went. He followed Hikari, and saw his teammate Mirai. He studied their movements.

  But that night, when Kaiser attacked Mirai first, she caught him before he realized. Her grip on his arm was strong. Unlike any force he'd faced before.

  After fighting, he realized he couldn't win, so he decided to flee after his first failure.

  He fled, but Mirai didn't let him go. She stood behind him, grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up.

  He looked into her eyes. And saw death. Not the cold death he gave. But living death. Savage. He saw true terror.

  For the first time in years, he felt something.

  Fear.

  Fear struck his chest like lightning. Made his breathing accelerate. Made his hands tremble. Not just fear of pain, but fear of something deeper.

  And when Mirai released him, after deciding for reasons he didn't understand not to kill him, he remained sitting in place. Trembling. His back pressed against a cold wall. Tears streaming from his eyes without being able to stop them.

  Tears of the small child trapped in darkness. The child who stood watching the orphanage burn helplessly, then spent years burying that image.

  The child who wanted protection. Who wanted help.

  All the orphanage children appeared. Not entirely clear visions. Blurred images. But enough to feel they were here.

  "Why didn't I burn with you..."

  He whispered. His voice broken, halting, coming out with difficulty.

  "Why did I stay alive... what's the point... I lived as a monster. A killer... I'm sorry... please forgive me."

  The words emerged from depths he hadn't approached in years.

  He put his hands on his face. His fingers dug into his hair. He began crying bitterly. His chest shaking, his throat burning.

  He didn't move for some time. Minutes passed heavily. His tears dried then returned. Until he could cry no more.

  Then, suddenly, he stopped crying.

  His hands fell quietly to his sides. His breathing returned to regularity, but in a cold way. His eyes returned completely empty. The same eyes when the orphanage burned.

  He stood. Moved back to the assassins' guild headquarters.

  When he arrived, he saw the massacre before him.

  The door was broken. The first smell was the thick smell of blood. The floor covered in dark red stains. Bodies scattered. Some headless. Some split open.

  Everyone present had already been killed by Mirai.

  Kaiser didn't blink. Didn't care. Didn't try to check anyone's pulse.

  He just moved outside.

  Walking. Walking. Walking without stopping.

  No goal. No desire to stop. No desire to think.

  Days passed. Maybe weeks.

  The sun rose and set, but for him it was just a change in light. He didn't eat anything. Didn't search for water. But he didn't feel hunger or thirst normally. His body was heavy, but capable of continuing.

  He just kept walking until he reached another kingdom. New streets. Faces he didn't know. But he didn't stop to look. Simply, he kept walking.

  ***

  On a rainy night, a man was walking with his friend under the rain, laughing loudly, the smell of alcohol wafting from them. They collided with Kaiser.

  The collision was strong enough to push him a step backward. But Kaiser didn't look at them. Didn't apologize. Didn't move. Just continued staring at the emptiness before him.

  The man grew angry. He grabbed Kaiser's shoulder hard. Without warning, he punched him hard in the face.

  Kaiser fell to the ground. The asphalt scratched his face. But the pain came as something distant, hazy. He didn't move.

  "Watch where you're going, you fool!"

  The man said angrily.

  But Kaiser's eyes were empty. He didn't respond. Didn't look.

  The man grew angrier at Kaiser's coldness. At his indifference. He began punching him hard in the face several times. His fist striking cheek, nose, jaw. Each blow producing a muffled sound.

  Kaiser still didn't move. His head moved with the blows, his body swaying slightly, but he didn't raise his hands to defend. Didn't try to stand. As if his body wasn't his body.

  The man stood after tiring. His hand hurt. He spat on the ground near Kaiser, then left with his friend.

  His face became swollen. One of his eyes began closing from the swelling. Blood mixed with rainwater on his face, flowing in faint red lines.

  He felt no pain. Only felt massive emptiness.

  He had reached rock bottom.

  Then, a girl holding an umbrella and a food bag stopped before him.

  It was Arisa.

  The sound of her footsteps on the water was light. The umbrella's shadow stopped above him, the rain disappeared from his face for the first time in minutes.

  She looked at him with eyes full of worry. Her eyes were wide, brown, with a warmth he hadn't seen in ages.

  "Oh my God... are you okay?"

  Her voice was soft, slightly confused, but sincere.

  He didn't respond, didn't look at her. Just stared at the sky.

  She knelt beside him. Her knees hit the wet ground without hesitation. She set the food bag aside. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a tissue, began wiping some blood from his face gently.

  Her touch was gentle. Warm despite the cold. Her fingers were careful. It was the first tender touch he'd felt in years. His body trembled with a slight shudder.

  "You're badly hurt. You can't stay here. Come, come with me. You'll be safe."

  The word "safe" stuck in his head. A safe place. The last time he heard that word was at the orphanage.

  She helped him stand. Her arm slipped under his shoulder firmly. She was much shorter than him, but her determination compensated for the difference. She placed his arm around her shoulder. She supported him as he limped.

  He walked with her silently under her umbrella. The sound of rain on the umbrella fabric was a steady rhythm above their heads. She led him, step by step, without asking his name.

  Leaving behind a pool of blood and despair in the rainy street.

  She was leading him away from the darkness.

  Toward a faint, warm light he saw at the end of the street.

  The light of an orphanage.

  (To be continued)