After a long walk through dimly lit halls, Fifty-Three arrived in the throne room. Sir Olden was already seated on his golden throne, accompanied by a few other higher-ups—mostly nobles who served under the Olden house.

Their faces were concealed by cloaks, not for anonymity but out of respect for the patriarch. Every gaze fixated on Fifty-Three, yet nobody spoke. Standing in the room's center, hands behind his back with a straight posture, Fifty-Three resembled the epitome of a servant. A smile appeared on Olden's face, and he spoke.

"Assassin Numbered Fifty-Three, I've heard many positive reports about your missions."

As he spoke, mana oozed out of him, resembling a waterfall of pure confidence. However, Fifty-Three remained firm, not even flinching.

"Thank you, Sir Olden. I take pride in your compliment," he replied with a quick nod.

Chuckling, Olden signaled a noble in the crowd to speak. The mentioned man stood up, shook off the dirt clinging to his clothes, and cleared his throat.

With the help of a low-tier wind spell, he raised a large plane into the air.

He intended to present the map of the territory belonging to the household and its sponsors, specifically a southern province near the Atlas mountain range. This region housed mines where they primarily extracted Ferilium, a robust yet elastic element used in various weaponry, such as catapults.

Before Fifty-Three could gauge, as to what he thought about this sudden presentation, the old man continued.

"To honor your frequent success and your 12th anniversary in our humble realm, we would like to reward you."

By his tone, it was evident to Fifty-Three that he was smirking.

"The southern province of Cloverdale has had many problems with pesky bandits. You're tasked to be an escort to a very important envoy. If any of those beasts dare to attack the VIP, you will massacre them all, without the slightest hesitation."

He paused, zooming into a small town.

"Until then, you will be staying here. Do not see this mission as a bother; it is meant to give you the freedom to relax. The only threats you'll have to deal with are bandits, so take your time. Our Envoy should follow you in around a week."

After he finished, Fifty-Three turned slightly towards Sir Olden and glanced at him.

A nod of approval, with a threatening smile, is all he got. He instantly understood that they had planned something, even if he didn't know to what extent they would go.

Nevertheless, he replied with utmost loyalty like he always did.

'I will do as you command, Sir Olden.'

Olden's eyes examined him for a second. Then he spoke his final command.

"You're dismissed, Fifty-Three. I will give you an hour to prepare for your departure. The carriage will be waiting for you."

With that, Fifty-Three gave a last nod and left the room, feeling the penetrating stares of the higher-ups on his back.

----------

Reaching his room in the underground complex didn't take long. Funnily enough, assassins typically didn't reside close to their contractors, but Fifty-Three's tolerated stay was due to his status as a double-digit.

Every assassin under number one hundred belonged to the elite first generation, established by the current Olden family head's grandfather. He had around 23 assassins under his command during that time, but the numbers escalated during the rule of Sir Olden's father, who recruited approximately 300 more.

As peace settled, most were either dead or killed by the family head himself. Only a few loyal ones, including Fifty-Three, remained.

Packing up his stuff was simple. There wasn't much he possessed anyway. So he packed up his fighting gear and essentials like food and water and immediately went to the main entrance of the castle.

A few maids passed him by in the hallway, fear evident in their eyes. It was a common occurrence, but now it bothered him for some reason.

As he arrived, he spotted the carriage he was assigned to and greeted the driver.

"Ah yes, I have been notified of your departure, Sir Frederick. Are you ready for the trip?" he said with a friendly smile.

"Yes. Let's hurry; I have a business to attend to." Fifty-Three replied with a smile that seemed like something straight out of a textbook.

Climbing inside, he saw the documents he had expected after hearing his alias.

'My new identity,' he thought.

Sitting down and taking the papers to read them, he made himself comfortable, ready to take on whatever they would throw at him.