Round a corner of the pristine white building, leaned a young man against the mammoth marble walls.

Cloaked in black leather, he remained motionless and silent, blending into the shadows cast by the humongous artefacts of human ingenuity.

Strands of jet black hair was visible beneath his dark hood.

The clouds overhead passed at a snail's pace, unveiling the full moon which gently illuminated his dull white mask with strange ominous markings etched upon its surface - a rising serpent with clipped wings and fangs devouring the right eye of its wearer.

The mask covered the entirety of his face, revealing only a pair of soulless grey eyes.

For an entire day, he had been observing the patrols as they made their rounds around the humongous church grounds.

The paladin guards of the citadel of light were the strongest warriors within the clergy ranks.

Individually, they were all at least master ranked in swordsmanship and holy magic, famed for their fortitude, and impenetrable defence.

The captain commander of paladin guards was also one of the only 3 legendary class individual in the entire continent.

Hence, no sound minded fool would ever dare to invade the citadel of light, headquarters of the church of light, even if he had entire armies and kingdoms behind his back.

Yet, this man was no simple intruder.

He was calm, composed and indifferent.

For him, this was merely a mission to be accomplished.

Emotions were unnecessary.

By observing the way the guards walked, he was able to discern the the strength and flexibility of their muscles.

By assessing their auras, he gauged their magic prowess and evaluated their combat capabilities.

Having spent an entire day lurking in the shadows of this prestigious institution, he had memorised the entire structure of the compound and the patrol schedules, unnoticed.

Now, he decided was the time to act.

Kicking off the ground with soundless steps, the black shadow swiftly covered the grounds and leapt towards the main building.

The two guards in pure white armour, guarding the entrance were the first to detect this stranger.

With a flash, the stranger pulled out a black dagger from within his cloak and in the same fluid motion, slit the throat of the first dumbstruck guard.

Twirling in a graceful pivot, the stranger took one step and appeared before the second guard.

In a trained motion, the guard had already placed his grip around the hilt of his blade, intending to draw and cut down the intruder in one stroke.

But he was too slow, for the same black dagger had sunk its teeth into his gullet before he had even realised.

After slicing through the fighting auras of the two master ranked swordsmen like cutting tofu, the stranger did not even bother to leave behind a cursory glance and simply carried on towards his objective.

Bounding into the extravagant halls, he glided across the polished floor and bounded up the stairs.

Time was the essence.

Even for someone of his calibre, the stranger knew that his mission could fail if the guards had enough time to rally and converge upon his location.

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But he was not worried.

With inhumane movements, he ducked out of the visions of patrolling guards and maids, ending their lives in a flash before they could even utter a sound.

The systematic slaughter continued without any reduction in speed.

Instead, he had been accelerating, going faster and faster, until he resembled a blur.

Five minutes passed before the alarms finally went off.

"The second patrol must have noticed the dead guards... Their punctuality is commendable..." he mused internally.

But it was still too late.

He had reached the bedroom at the end of the long corridor.

With two quick slashes, the Mithril doors, reinforced with grandmaster ranked holy wards, was split apart diagonally, revealing a white room with well-furnished interior and a pure white bed in its centre. A young lady with long white hair reaching her waist, dressed in modest white robes, sat upright with a jerk.

A brief moment of confusion passed between her golden eyes, before she immediately composed herself and began invoking holy magic.

The stranger threw himself into her bed, pushing her down forcefully, and coming mask to face with the indignant lady.

"Unhand me you Shadow Clan vermin!" the she demanded.

In response, she felt the kiss of cold steel upon her fair neck, accompanied by a sharp, intensely concentrated killing intent.

For the first time in her life, the high priestess felt fear.

Even after enduring countless of the toughest and most extreme trials and tribulations in order to reach the height of legendary holy magic, she had never felt such overwhelming pressure.

Looking into the cold soulless eyes of the assassin was akin to staring into the endless void.

Those were the eyes of one who had abandoned all humanity.

Those were the eyes of one who saw no value in life, for all is meaningless in the face of death.

Those were the eyes of one who was simply a hollow shell, filled with a sea of nothingness.

Darkness

Despair

...

And yet, she felt pity.

A tear was shed, not out of fear but pity...

Her golden eyes bore into the depths of his being.

Her tear was most unexpected.

For the first time in his life, he had hesitated.

For reasons unbeknownst to him,

A tinge of unknown sensation seemed to reverberate in the cold lump of flesh one would call "heart".

Yet he was long past the point of no return.

The chains of darkness shackled him to his duty.

To kill was his purpose -

his only reason for existence.

Thoughts are unnecessary.

He simply had to accomplish his mission,

To fulfil his role as a tool -

A broken puppet impaled by strands of fate.

And so the deed was done.

And he disappeared like a whist of smoke, leaving behind no trace of his existence except the trail of death left behind in his wake.

His was a legend.

A nameless being.

The phantom of the Shadow Clan.

The best assassin of the underworld.

A pitiful ghost longing for requiem.