Chapter 55: Nightingale—The Assassin

“Wendy, we’ll talk about the water later! Stand behind me and don’t make a move.”

Watson stretched his hands to protect Wendy behind him. He looked at the large bed in the bedroom, and his expression became serious. “Who’s there? Come out!”

A black shadow appeared on the soft, velvet bed and swayed gently as Watson spoke.

The shadow disappeared, and a petite woman in black appeared on the bed. Her collarbone and shoulders were covered with a dark red veil that showed only hints of her snow-white skin.

Watson could not tell the woman’s age. She wore an inverted triangular veil, and she had short black hair and dark blue eyes. At that moment, her veil swayed gently as she looked at Watson. “It’s commendable that you found me so quickly.”

Her voice was like a bird singing softly, and it was also like a clear spring that flowed between the rocks—it was very pleasant.

Gulp!

Watson swallowed his saliva. He could tell from the woman’s voice that she should not be very old. Unfortunately, she also exuded a fatal sense of threat.

Everyone knew that he was a silver tier warrior and mage. Only a gold tier warrior would be able to pose a threat to him. It seemed like the woman was extremely talented, or perhaps she was from a major faction if she could become a gold tier warrior at such a young age.

Did Wilber Liszt Manor hire her as an assassin?

Watson thought that was the case; he had only offended them. However, he did not believe they could hire a gold tier warrior.

No matter who she was, she was not a good person since she had hid in someone’s bedroom in the middle of the night.

Watson rolled his eyes and nudged Wendy with his shoulder. “Wendy, you should go out. I’ll have a private chat with this lady.”

“Young Master—”

Wendy grabbed the corner of Watson’s clothes weakly. Her light green eyes were full of gratitude.

She knew that Watson said that because he wanted to bear the danger alone; he did not want her to get hurt. As a maid, her duty was to guard the young master and not let him get hurt. Unfortunately, she did not have that ability. Wendy felt powerless and somewhat ashamed. If she were a powerful warrior, she would be able to defend Watson.

“Go!”

Watson’s tone was urgent. Wendy gritted her teeth and quickly pushed the door open and left.

She would be a burden if she were to stay there. She might as well go and get help.

Then, Watson closed the door and tidied his clothes. He pretended to be calm and said, “Who are you and why are you in my bedroom?”

When Wendy left, the woman did not stop her. Watson felt that she would not kill him immediately; he could communicate with her.

Nightingale looked at Watson with great interest.

She was Lord Sylvan’s Shadow Guards leader, and she was one of the best gold tier warriors. She had killed many people, so her body had a strong murderous aura. A gold tier warrior would feel uneasy when they had to face her, let alone a silver tier warrior. It was already good enough that he did not kneel in front of her.

The young man looked only a little over ten years old, but he could resist the pressure from her body. His expression was very calm, and there was a maturity in his eyes that did not belong to someone his age. That piqued her interest.

Nightingale pondered as she shook her calves. Then her body melted into the darkness before she appeared from the shadows and stroked Watson’s neck with her slender fingers.

“My name is Nightingale, and I am from Fairy Castle. I am under orders to kill you.”

The warm wind blew as those words entered Watson’s ears gently; they made him shudder.

Teleportation!

That woman was a gold tier warrior, indeed!

In that world, gold tier warriors were considered elites. If combat aura represented a silver tier warrior, then the representation of a gold tier warrior was the ability to break through space to perform simple short-distance teleportation. Of course, the teleportation distance would depend on the warrior’s strength—from several meters to a hundred meters.

Nightingale had been less than ten meters away from him, and then she had appeared behind him; she was not an ordinary gold tier warrior.

Those views flashed through Watson’s mind in an instant. When he felt Nightingale’s hand on his Adam’s apple, he calmed down instead. “Miss Nightingale, I don’t think I’ve aggravated the Fairy Castle! If I remember correctly, the Fairy Castle is the border count’s residence. Why would such a prominent figure send someone to assassinate me?”

“You’ll have to ask yourself that.” Nightingale’s pleasant voice echoed again.

“I don’t understand. Can you explain more clearly?”

“I’ll ask the questions, and you’ll answer them! You’re the King’s confidant, right? His Majesty sent you here and gave you many resources to build Blackmoon Castle at the border. Isn’t that right?”

“The King? I built Blackmoon Castle by myself. What does it have anything to do with the King?”

“Since you don’t know the King, then where did you get the large amount of bronze tier ores used to build the castle and the Rainbow Phoenix Chicken in your house?”

“I used fusion magic to create them.”

“Fusion magic?” Nightingale frowned.

As a Shadow Guard, she had a unique interrogation method. She could judge whether a person was lying based on their heartbeat and body temperature. That was also the reason she placed her hand on Watson’s artery on his neck. Watson’s heartbeat did not increase, and the temperature of his skin did not rise. Therefore, he must have been telling the truth.

However, what was fusion magic? She had heard of other magic besides the six basic elements, such as spiritual magic and space magic, but she had never heard of fusion magic. Could it be some lost magic?

Nightingale was very familiar with magic as she was the platinum tier mage, Sylvan’s subordinate. She knew that there were many countries that specialized in magic in ancient times. They were once glorious, but they eventually died out. Therefore, many strange magic skills were lost in the long river of history. They were called lost magic, and the magic that was passed down was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Your words are not enough to make me trust you. What is fusion magic? Where did it come from?”

“It’s a long story. It was a snowy winter, and an old man fainted in front of our house. I moved this old man into the house. To thank me, he taught me fusion magic—”

Watson felt the killing intent behind him weakened. He raised his hand and moved Nightingale’s petite hand away from his neck. “I’ve said what I needed to say. Do you have any questions?”

His heart pounded, and the temperature on his body rose by one degree—the boy had lied.

Nightingale frowned, but she did not care. Except for the origin of the fusion magic, everything else sounded normal. Sylvan did not send her there to kill the boy; she only needed to determine his identity. If the King had sent Watson, then she should threaten him and turn him into Lord Sylvan’s subordinate.

The situation was beyond Nightingale’s understanding. Watson was not the King’s man, and he said that he had built this castle with his own strength?

What should she do?

Nightingale thought it was better if Watson was not the King’s spy. It meant that he would more likely join Lord Sylvan’s camp. Furthermore, his fusion magic had built a castle in such a short time, so it was obviously magical. “I believe that Lord Sylvan, who likes to study magic, would be very interested in this.”

You are reading story My Fusion System: Fusing a Thousand Chickens at the Start at novel35.com

Nightingale put down her hand as Watson looked at her in surprise. Then, she said, “Are you willing to join the border count and be his follower?”