Chapter 20: Vice leader

The forest remained still, heavy with fog, as if holding its breath.

A faint rumble in the distance broke the silence. Headlights cut through the trees as two matte black SUVs rolling slowly down the cracked provincial road.

They came to a halt just behind Vincent’s car, engines quieting into an eerie hum.

Nova straightened in his seat, eyes narrowing toward the rearview mirror.

“They’re here.”

Vincent opened his door first, stepping out without a word. He stood calmly in front of the cars, arms relaxed at his sides, watching as the sound of engines stopped.

Nova followed, the cold biting air sharper in the outside. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, boots crunching against gravel as the vehicle doors behind them clicked open one by one.

From the first SUV, three figures stepped out.

From the second, two more.

They didn’t speak. Just approached in formation, calm and confident. Their movements were precise and unnatural. Not a wasted breath between them.

Nova’s eyes scanned each figure as they emerged. He couldn’t quite place it, but something about them felt… different. There was something off.

A quiet pressure hung in the air around them. He even tried to use his ability on one but ended up nothing. Just cold expressions and an energy he couldn’t place. It prickled at the edges of his skin, like pressure without sound.

They didn’t wear matching uniforms, but there was a strange unity in their presence. Dark clothes and custom-fitted gear, each one was decked out.

But the most striking detail was that not a single one of them carried a visible firearm instead some of them carried bladed weapons.

Vincent spoke first. Seeing Nova’s growing confusion. “These are the elites. Codename unit: Sable Six.”

Nova blinked. “There’s only five of them.”

“One’s already inside.”

A soft wind passed through the forest.

The first elite to step forward was a tall woman with a long coat, blades strapped to her back. Her gaze flicked from Vincent to Nova, then nodded.

“The manor has a perimeter patrol. Twelve guards. Two sniper nests,” she said coolly. “Main gate is steel-plated but aged. Giga’s strike force won’t be necessary, we’ll breach silently.”

A second man, arms crossed and face half-hidden under a hood, added, “Thermals confirm at least eight heat signatures inside the west wing. Raines is likely in the room of the third floor. Reinforcements could arrive within twenty minutes.”

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Vincent nodded. “I want him alive.”

The group collectively acknowledged without a word.

Nova tilted his head slightly. “So, uh… do I get a codename too, or am I just the emotionally damaged nephew?”

One of the elites smirked briefly, barely visible beneath the hood but no one replied.

“Stick close. We stay here until the signal comes. This isn’t an ordinary raid,” Vincent said to Nova, his voice low and final. “Let’s move.”

One of them stepped forward, gave Vincent a single nod, then turned toward the trees.

And then they vanished.

In seconds, the elites were gone, slipping into the shadows like wraiths. Their movements were fast, nearly impossible to track.

Nova blinked. “Alright,” he muttered. “That’s not normal at all.”

…..

Ronan Raines’ Manor Hideout

Several minutes Later.

A short crackle came from a small radio on Vincent’s belt.

Click.

“Signal clear. Route clean.”

Vincent nodded once, then turned to Nova. “Let’s go.”

The two began walking the dirt path toward the manor. The wind rustled the leaves. Not a single guard in sight. Not a single sound except their own steps.

Nova’s eyes scanned everything. The open front gate was surprisingly clean, no damage and so far, not so much destruction like he expected.

They stepped through the entryway.

What greeted them wasn’t a battle scene. It was the aftermath of the chaos.

A man was slumped against the wall near the foyer, eyes open but unseeing. His neck was twisted unnaturally. Another body lay across a shattered table, blade wounds visible on his neck and back.

Nova squinted. “We’re sure they’re not ghosts, right?”

Vincent didn’t answer. He simply kept walking.

They moved room to room, following the trail of cracked floors, embedded knife marks on walls, broken glass, the scent of blood faint but fresh. The bodies were spaced out, one in the hallway, one across the kitchen threshold, one pinned to a doorframe with what looked like a… chair leg?

Nova paused, clearly stunned.

“That’s a chair leg,” he said aloud, blinking. Trying to hide his shaking hand by making a fist. “Okay. Now I’m scared… and impressed at the same time.”

But behind his usual sarcasm, his chest still trembled when he passes by a body one after another. The memory of his death still stuck to him like a shadow.

He tried to steady himself, but the weight of it lingered in his bones.

They moved up the second-floor staircase, passing more signs of swift, surgical destruction. A smear of blood on the banister. The faint groan of a support beam stressed by force.

But as their boots touched the top step of the third floor, the chaos finally had a voice.

“Who are you!?”

“STOP!”

“…”

“Shit! Shoot them!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A short, desperate burst of gunfire echoed through the corridor, followed by the violent crash of something heavy slamming into a wall.

Nova’s hand twitched toward his side, instinctively reaching for a weapon he didn’t carry. His heartbeat quickened, every step sharpening his focus.

At the end of the hall, through the smoke and flickering lights, a calm voice cut through the fading echoes like a blade through fog.

“Who sent you?”

Nova froze.

That voice wasn’t panicked. It wasn’t angry. It was steady, slow, and almost sounded… amused?

“I can pay you more than the others,” the voice continued. “Assuming you weren’t dumb enough to come here for free.”

As Nova and Vincent moved into view, they saw the one speaking.

He stood amid the wreckage, dust and blood settling around him like falling ash. Two of his men lay unconscious near the doorway behind him, one twitching, the other completely still. His tailored coat was scorched on one sleeve, yet his stance remained relaxed.

A wolf who hadn’t decided yet whether to pounce or to let you keep breathing.

His gaze landed on Nova, then on Vincent. A flicker of something passed through his eyes. Recognition? Interest?

He suddenly smirked but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

“Vincent Alaric… the specter has finally come for me.”