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A black iron gate at the front of the house was locked shut; behind it, a stone pathway wound through neatly trimmed grass to lead up to an imposing wooden door inlaid with silver whorls that ran along its surface.

Melissa’s sabatons clicked against the ground as she approached the mansion. It wasn’t just any mansion. It was her father’s — or at least, it had been. One of the Montibeau Estates. Not their largest, but the one in which he had met his end.

Now, she wasn’t even sure if the mansion even still held its name. She’d been away from home for several days. More than enough time for the Kererus Coalition to do irreparable damage to her people or wrest control of the building. Melissa’s heart ached. She was relieved their estate still stood, but walls meant nothing if her family had fallen.

It had been so tempting to return earlier. To strike out the moment after Ifrit had forged her the seemingly impossible armor she now wore. That would have been stupid. He’d given her a tool, but even the most deadly tool could do nothing when it wasn’t wielded by a competent hand.

The area where the Falling Blade assassin had stabbed her tingled. Melissa was all too aware of how close she’d come to death. A poison as potent as the one she’d been inflicted with should have been her end, but it hadn’t. They’d failed to kill her.

She didn’t plan to make the same mistake.

For the last few days, she had practiced tirelessly. Pushed the armor and herself to their limits. By no means was she the greatest warrior to have ever lived. She didn’t even have a combat class — but there was only so long she could wait. Melissa had a decent understanding of how to utilize the gift Ifrit had given her. The time for waiting was over.

Melissa came to a stop before the locked iron gate. There was no guard out. If she hadn’t already known that the Kererus Coalition had taken action against her family, then that would have given it away. There had always been a guard at the gate. She remembered his name well. Tobble. He’d played with her through much of her childhood. Tobble hadn’t exactly been the most competent warrior, but they’d never expected anyone to attack them so blatantly.

Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword as she pulled it free of its sheathe and drew in a deep breath. But, before she could call out, the door to the Montibeau Estate cracked open and a middle-aged woman dressed in a dark shawl hustled out, her eyes wide with fear.

“Melissa!” the maid exclaimed, her voice a whisper laden with terror and excitement alike. “You live?”

“Alina?” Melissa blinked in surprise. “What are you — wait, you can recognize me through my helmet?”

“It doesn’t cover that much of your face, you daft girl. What are you doing here?” Alina asked as she rushed over to clasp the bars of the gate. “You must leave. I am delighted that you live, but your father—”

“I know what happened to father,” Melissa said, her voice going taut. “And I have returned to avenge him.”

“You cannot,” Alina hissed. “Please, Melissa. You can take revenge if you live, but—”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” A voice rolled across the street like a waft of sewer air from a building on the street behind them. Melissa spun, raising her sword, and stared up in its direction.

A gray-clothed assassin sat at the top of another mansion, his legs dangling over the edge. He rolled a dagger across his knuckles before flicking it to the ground several feet front of Melissa. The instant it struck, a swirl of shadow rose up from it and the assassin took form.

Two more assassins emerged from the streets behind him. Even though Melissa couldn’t see the others, she knew all too well that there were at least seven more lurking somewhere in the darkness.

Alina let out a terrified whimper. “Run, Melissa!”

“It’s too late for that,” Melissa replied. She set her stance, keeping her back to the gate. It was far from as safe as a flat wall, but it was the best she had. “Where are the bastards that hired you, assassin? Too cowardly to try their own hand against me?”

“The identity of our employer is of no concern to you,” the man said with a raspy laugh. “I suspected you would return here. Noble brats are always the same. So convinced that they’ll claim revenge for some slight or another. They never do. I’d ask when you’ll learn that there’s a difference between political power and true strength, but you never will. Your life ends tonight.”

“Did the Kererus Coalition also hire you to flap your lips for ten minutes?” Melissa asked. “Or were you going to put steel where your words are?”

The assassin let out a bark of laughter. His two compatriots drew up alongside him, and Melissa caught a glimpse of another one on the roof across from her. The assassins weren’t even trying to properly hide their presence.

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“As a matter of fact, they did,” the assassin said. “There is one that wishes to see your death with his own eyes. And I have a few questions for you of my own. What happened to the last group of assassins that came for you?”

“I killed them,” Melissa replied, baring her teeth at the assassin. The last thing she wanted to do was bring the Menagerie into this. They’d already helped her enough. She couldn’t let the assassin’s suspicion fall on them.

“Liar,” the assassin accused. “You aren’t anywhere near strong enough. Who helped you, girl?”

“Come closer and I’ll tell you,” Melissa said, pointing her sword at the assassin. “Or are you scared? The others were too. They cried like dogs before I ran them through. Pissed themselves too.”

“Taunts will do nothing. You die tonight. I would choose your final words more carefully. The Montibeau house has truly fallen if its final heir can do nothing better than scream taunts like a tavern whore.”

“I bet you could show a tavern whore a thing or two about their craft. They probably go to you for advice on it,” Melissa replied, her eyes darting around in search of the other assassins. The armor was powerful, but it wouldn’t win her the fight entirely on its own. She had to figure out where as many of the assassins were as possible. Every surprise attack she couldn’t dodge was a chunk of wasted energy.

One of the other assassins snorted. The lead one turned to glare in his direction, then looked back to Melissa and flashed a dagger. “Laugh while you can. You’ll be begging soon enough. I’ll find out exactly who it was that helped you before our employer lets us put you down.”

Melissa fought to keep her heart steady. Her hands were slick with sweat and her heart slammed in her chest. She was terrified, but she refused to let anyone see the extent of it.

Footfalls echoed through the orange-hued street. Melissa glanced over the assassin’s shoulder as a tall man stepped out from an alleyway, flanked by two more assassins, these ones clad in dark robes. The man had a large forehead and a head of thinning gray hair. He sported a faint potbelly and walked with his hands crossed behind his back.

Melissa recognized him instantly. The man was a member of the Kererus Coalition. She’d never met him in person, but she’d seen sketches of his face in her father’s office. He’d had her memorize the features of every one of their enemies.

“Ah. I see the Falling Blades were correct,” the man purred, his thin lips pulling up in a smile. “Hello, Melissa. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I know you,” Melissa spat. “Alcard. You were the one that killed my father?”

“Oh no. It wasn’t me,” Alcard said with a laugh so smug that Melissa was tempted to sprint across the street and plant her fist straight in his mouth. Alcard extended a hand to the assassins. “That would have been these fine gentlemen. Well, the last set of them. The first seems to have gone missing. I’ve heard they’re very eager to find out why. I hope you enjoy that. I won’t be able to stick around and watch the whole thing, I’m afraid. I’m a busy man, now. Your family needed someone to take over things. They’ve been running around like a headless chicken after you deserted them in their time of need.”

Melissa ground her teeth. “I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to hunt down the rest of the Kererus Coalition and make them pay as well.”

“I’m sure you’d love to,” Alcard said with a patronizing smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this, especially after you managed to slip the Falling Blades the last time. I’ll make sure they put you down properly this time. On with it, gentlemen.”

“Hold on.” The lead Falling Blade pointed his dagger in the direction of the two black-cloaked figures that had accompanied Alcard. “We secured the area to ensure there were no witnesses. Who is that? Why did you bring people here?”

“Oh, these two?” Alcard let out a low chuckle. “They’re just here for my personal safety. Don’t worry. They’re bound to a guild contract. They’re no Falling Blades, but they come from a prominent assassin’s guild in the city. Fear not. They won’t be interfering in today’s events.”

“That isn’t what we agreed on,” the spokesman for the Falling Blades said. “How do you know they aren’t compromised?”

“Oh, they’re quite reliable. I researched them extensively. They’ve even got a recently completed mission that was in the upper pay brackets.” Alcard crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Go on. Introduce yourselves. Do an assassin greeting… or something.”

What an idiot. Assassins aren’t weird animals. They don’t have special greetings.

Neither of the cloaked figures spoke. Melissa could have sworn their gazes were trying to bore holes into her head.

“Your dogs are mute,” the Falling Blade said. “I don’t like this.”

“I ordered you to speak!” Alcard snarled.

“Shut up,” one of the black-cloaked figures said. “Leena, is that—”

“It definitely is. What the fuck is with our luck?” the other assassin replied in a distinctively female tone. “This is bad. What if he is here?”

“What are you talking about?” Alcard demanded. “Answer the Falling blade, you buffoons!”

All the Falling Blades in Melissa’s sight readied their weapons.

Both of the assassins flanking Alcard vanished in a flicker of shadow. Melissa flinched as they both reformed at her sides, but neither of them made any move to attack.

“Where is he?” Leena, the female assassin, asked. There was a note of panic in her voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you want answers, you’re going to have to pry them from my corpse.”

“Fuck that,” the other assassin said. “I’m quitting.”

“What?” the thin man exclaimed. “You wretched thieves! I paid you—”

“You can take your money and stuff it where the sun don’t shine,” Leena said.

“Well, you could if we didn’t already spend it all on hookers,” the other assassin said. “Hell of a night. You canfuck yourself, though. There’s no way this job is worth it.”

Alcard’s eye twitched. He looked like he was a few seconds from starting to blow steam out of his ears. The assassins at Melissa’s sides exchanged a glance.

“I’ll take my chances against the Blades if you keep the terrifying bastard that made your outfit from coming after us again,” the male assassin said to Melissa.

Godspit. What’s going on? Are they talking about Ifrit? Do they know he made this armor?

“I… uh, sure?”

“Kill them!” Alcard screamed. “All of them!”

“It’s going to cost you extra now,” the lead Falling Blade said idly, tossing his dagger from one hand to the other. “This is your fault, idiot.”

“I don’t care! Just kill them!”

“You heard him,” the Falling Blade said. He pointed his dagger at Melissa. “She’s mine. Deal with the turncoats.”

Shadows leapt through the ruddy evening light as assassins leapt into motion. A dagger flashed through the air toward Melissa’s neck with such speed that she couldn’t even track it, but her armor certainly could. A powerful gust of wind erupted from it, sending the dagger spinning over her shoulder harmlessly. The assassin sprinted toward her and she met his charge with a cry of defiance.

The clash of metal filled the street and the fight started in true. Nobody noticed the body of a Falling Blade slumping in an alleyway, their hands mutely grasping at their throat as thick, congealed blood bubbled from between their lips.