Chương 16: king of fighting.

Vanessa Diary log #11 excerpt 4 Today has been the most exciting and frightening day of my life. From hiding for our lives in the mayhem of murder to standing above the servants as the new Duchess. From wanting to vomit to almost fainting. They looked at me with judgement in their glares. I am sure they know. I am not even a proper Hodge, yet I am to marry the greatest noble in the land. I know as well. I don't fit this position. My sister would be better. They would accept a legitimate child over me.

I looked at the paintings of eras long gone that hung in the corridor and felt my anxiety rise. The cloak I wore was present in many of them. It suddenly felt heavy. I slipped the cloak off my back, and I asked the maid.

"Can you give this back to the Tarion?" The maid scowled, but took it anyway, gently folding it.

"I will have it cleaned for His Grace." Her stern eyes glanced to the right at the large, dark door.

"Your Duchess suite. Your Grace." The maid opened the door, and it felt like I was walking into another world. There was enough room for an entire family, cousins and all, to live. On a dark oak floor lay a red carpet by a blazing fireplace. A large four-post bed was draped with a red curtain, and more red coloured the satin sheets and pillows. The walls also matched the red motif. I walked further into the room, touching the office table made of mahogany wood, reflecting fire and candlelight.

I walked more to the back, and there was an immense wall cased in books next to a window seat with pillows arranged. The perfect reading corner.

"His grace ordered those especially for you." The maid noted. It was too much for me. This room. The title. Too much. But I was here anyway. And so, I thought I should do my duty as the wife of a Duke. When the maid was about to leave, I asked. No, I ordered, "Help me prepare." Tarion"First are greetings. Like hello. Or good evening, esteemed gentleman." The pyjama-dressed ninja dropped to his knees, groaning from my gut punch.

"Come on, little guy. It can't have hurt that much. I didn't hit that hard." I cracked the knife with my mana-imbued fingers. Shattered pieces of metal fell on my floor. I crouched, and another black knife cut the air above me from behind.

"After greetings, we exchange names." My elbow missed a nose, the attack leapt back.

"For example, Duke Greystone of Osberg, it's a pleasure to meet you." Silence from the shadow.

"Davis. I tolerated your disobedience for too long." The fourth circle nearly ruined his form.

"How..." the shadow came into the light, letting down his cloaking. He dropped his mask, revealing his hooked nose and hollow eyes. No wonder he was so stuck on the dowager. Many would have a hard time loving a face like his. But he was the dowager's favourite toy. To think a third of a count could become something like this. I looked down at the cloaking technique that hid him well. Umber steps; I remember them being called.

"You shouldn't have been taught the way. You were not worthy." If I wasn't aware of his story from the novel, I would be the one bleeding on my nice carpet. I started bouncing on each foot, embodying my inner Muhammad Ali and Bruce Lee. Right hand to my chin, left low to my crotch.

"Who cares how I know, I am worthy now."

"Never." The assailants started sprinting with aura hugging the feet like blue boots of light. Feet silent on the wooden floors, their speeds greatly exceeded their fourth circles. I heard shings as he pulled out a one-sided short sword and a pair of shredder-like claws. A right claw failed to scratch my bare chest, and a front kick pushed the ninja away. I weaved to the right, and a short sword cut the air. Switching to Southpaw, I threw a right hook to his spleen. To his knee, he dropped.

A left uppercut nearly connected on his chin, but the assassin slipped his chin by, slashing with his claw. A left elbow hit his forearm away as a mana-covered right hand directed a blade of flaring blue. Open. I covered my legs like the assassin with blue light and struck his chest with a front kick. Blood spurted from his mouth as I felt his chest crack. I rushed in, arms up to block and let my fist of mana do a lot of talking. Left, right. Left right.

Left, left, left, then the hard cross aimed at his bleeding face. Full of rage, Davis evaded. Burning his claw with large blue flame, he struck fast at my bare stomach. I danced back, moving my head away from repeated clawings. Heightened Senses slowed the butler; his attacks were a breeze to evade compared to the hipster bandit. I had warmed up. My bare right foot flickered, smacking the masked man on his right cheek.

Using the momentum, I jumped, spun, and tornado-kicked the intruder in the chest, kicking the assailant out the window, out into the garden. I heard a body bounce across the grass, then nothing. I waited by the window. After a while, I heard grass crunch in the distance. A man, injured and limping, further away from the premises. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Susan." I sensed her presence when these heightened senses felt nothing. Just outside the window, Susan waited. She looked furious. Makes sense Davis was the one recommend the tea. A lifelong friend and comrade and traitor to Umber. Umbra. A secretive recon, espionage, and investigative group, funded and operated by the Greystone Household. Managed by vassal families, they specialise in camouflage techniques, close-quarters combat, and assassination. A prized jewel in the Greystone crown.

However, with its secrecy come archaic rules. Rules of succession. Which I wasn't considered for, for obvious reasons. The vassal families decide whether to give a Greystone heir the keys to the group. And since my father died, the keys no longer had any worthy owners. Until me. I point to where Davis ran to.

"Your turn. Do me well."

"Of course, Your Grace. As is my Duty." In a blink, she vanished from my eyesight, yet I knew she was still there. Scary... I want to learn. I stepped through the broken window, looking left.

"Beatrice, can you teach me Umber Steps?

"If a third circle could notice me, I must train longer. And to your question, I can."

"Good, good. So, how's your investigation been going? Find any leads to the mayor's ties to the underground?" The shadows looked at me, her black clothing flowing in the wind. I saw something her stare. Relief?

"You are Umbra. You don't waste time. What have you learned?" Beatrice reported.

"The mayor had excluded certain key members of local gangs from paying taxes. Using the Osberg guard, he protects those who traffic goods in and out of Osberg. Be it drugs, weapons or-""People. I see."

"We have been working on a case regarding a pimp in the red district. The late mayor had been keeping his hands off him while prosecuting his rivals. He is a gangster by the name of Fjord Hasel but his victims called him Horn. Owns various unsavoury brothels known for the bad treatment of workers." I remembered from Tarion's memory that prostitution wasn't illegal, but it was heavily regulated and taxed. Neither seemed to apply to this Horn fellow.

"Good, continue with the case. Give me regular updates."

"Yes, Your Grace." She replied.

"I must say, Davis has been quite glued to the dowager as of recently." I stared down at Beatrice. Making sure she understood clearly.

"Not one bag of poison tea has been found. He is Umbra. Was. He can hide evidence. But I will find out his motives." Beatrice pounded her chest.

"I swear on Umbra's honour." I smiled.

"Then it will be done. I have some of the tea stored. Send it to be tested. And monitor the old bitch as well. I know she's about to go wild."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Suggestions for the late mayor?" I asked.

"We can leak evidence of his crimes." The headmaid answered.

"Even the more unsavoury kind to press. They will see your actions as just, soon enough."

"Good plan, see it done." I saw her smile to herself proudly. Beatrice looked down.

"Speak, Umbra." She nodded.

"She was crestfallen, realising she had failed you for so many years. Thank you for giving her another chance! I just... But why...? When anyone else would hang her, why let her go?"

"The loyal always deserve another chance." And I left it at that. She was pleased by my answer"Dismissed." I turned to the door on my way to take my bath, hearing my Umbra slither into the dark. I noticed my cloak folded by the bed. I have to see her. Such a busy day. I opened the door before Charles could knock.

"Your bath is ready, sire." Plonk I stood in front of a large, dark door, freshly cleaned, hair damp, wearing black breeches and a white blouse with slippers. When it was Tarion's mother's room, she would barely sleep there, choosing to use the Duchess suite as her office. Now there is a new lady of the house occupying the room, and I feel at peace. Or Tarion does. There's no other woman more worthy than Vanessa. No one else is worthy of this room or title. But it's only for a short time.

She would reach higher levels soon enough.

I sighed hard, hesitating. I knocked.

"It's me, Tarion." I heard footsteps and a curly-haired woman opened the door, wrapped in a deep red silk robe.

"Hello." She studied me up and down. My mind froze, and my gaze stuck on her. Holy...

"Want to come in?" Vanessa asked, breaking me out of the ice.

"S-sure." I strode into the red room like a tinman, smelling perfume in the air. Vanessa slowly sat on the mattress, expecting me to talk. I stood aside, looking around, anxiously.

"How is Osberg? Acclimating to the climate?" My eyes kept drifting to her bare legs crossed together.

"I am trying. But it's so much colder than my hometown, so it may take some time to get used to."

"I figured. South Korea doesn't have snowstorms as harsh as today's." Vanessa tilted her head in confusion.

"South Koria? I have only lived in Hamber since I was a babe." Huh?

"Is that a town near Burnid?" HUH? PLONK. OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!