Building A Business Empire From Scratch In Another World-Chapter 208: Black Thorn Retaliation

The capital was alive with festivity. Lanterns flickered along the streets, colorful banners swayed from rooftops, and laughter echoed throughout every neighborhood.

The launch of the Morningstar Group had sent shockwaves through the city; their name was on everyone's lips.

Yet beneath the cheers and bright storefronts, the night held an unusual darkness.

An unsettling mix of iron and rain filled the air. And far from the lively center of Astheria… death loomed quietly.

---

Just a Few Kilometers from the Capital

The carriage trundled steadily over the cobblestone path, the wheels softly crunching against the gravel.

Inside, Clara sat by the window, a stack of ledgers resting on her lap.

Her tidy brown hair was pulled back into a low bun, with a few stray strands brushing her cheek as the wind slipped through a crack in the window.

Though her eyes were sharp, they betrayed signs of fatigue. Days filled with recruitment, paperwork, and relentless scheduling had taken their toll.

She rubbed her temples, murmuring, "Finally, a moment of peace." 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Outside, the fields stretched endlessly, bathed in the silver glow of moonlight. The faint lights of the capital flickered on the horizon, already dimming behind her.

The driver, a tall figure clad in black, urged the horses forward. The rhythmic thud of hooves was almost dreamlike.

Then, it abruptly halted.

"Why did you..." Clara began, but before she could finish, the driver tensed.

From the darkness ahead, shadowy figures darted between the trees. Movement cascaded through the forest like ripples on a calm pond.

Dozens of cloaked figures emerged, their black garb melding with the night, faces obscured and hands gloved.

Each held a curved dagger that glinted under the moonlight.

The driver reached for his weapon but never had a chance.

A flash of crimson swept through the air.

Blood splattered the ground.

He fell without a sound.

The horses whinnied in terror, rearing back as the carriage jolted to a stop.

Clara's eyes widened in shock. She grasped the door handle, but before she could act, an arrow shot through the carriage window, grazing her cheek and burying itself deep in the opposite wall.

Outside, a voice hissed ominously.

"Eliminate everyone. Leave no survivors."

---

The forest erupted into chaos. Cloaked assassins surged from every direction, moving like wraiths, their blades slicing through the air.

But before they could close in, figures clad in dark armor emerged from beneath the carriage.

These were the assassins of the Abyss Hall, their faces concealed, their movements silent.

Their leader, a woman with silver eyes wielding twin daggers, stepped forward. "Guard Lady Clara. Annihilate all threats."

The first assassin who lunged forward lost his head before he even realized what was happening.

Blood sprayed across the ground like ink in water.

Sparks erupted as blades clashed, the forest resonating with the sound of combat.

Arrows zipped through the night. Abyss Hall assassins countered with flickering afterimages, dodging, weaving, disappearing into the shadows only to reappear behind their foes.

The battle was intense, rapid, and ruthless.

"Mana Shadow Art: Silent Bloom!" a Black Thorn Assassin shouted, thrusting his palms forward.

Black tendrils of shadow surged forth, coiling like snakes.

Three Abyss Hall assassins were ensnared in mid-air, consumed by darkness.

But as their forms vanished, other Abyss Hall members responded with resolve.

A rain of silver daggers sliced through the tendrils, dispelling them in bursts of black mist.

"Shadow Severance!" shouted the leader of the Abyss Hall.

She whirled around, her twin blades weaving arcs of cold blue light that cleaved through three enemies in one swift motion.

The air crackled with energy.

Clara huddled inside the overturned carriage, her heart racing. Every few moments, a scream would abruptly cut off, and a body would fall, the night growing heavier with loss.

Outside, the clash of metal and mana reverberated across the plains.

The earth shook with every explosion that erupted, illuminating the distorted figures engaged in battle.

"We need to retreat! Fall back!" a voice shouted from the Black Thorn side, as panic began to seep in. The assassins finally recognized their grave error.

The Abyss Hall wasn't just another defense unit; they were demons disguised as humans, lethal predators who thrived in the shadows.

But before they could make their escape, a faint click resonated in the still air. Time seemed to freeze, and then... a figure emerged from their midst. It was Jarvis.

He stepped out from behind a distant tree, hands casually tucked into his pockets, his glasses catching a glimmer in the low light. His long black coat fluttered with the chill of the wind.

"Leaving so soon?" he remarked softly, his tone almost disinterested. "How impolite."

Dozens of assassins halted in their tracks, instincts screaming that they were in peril.

The leader of the Abyss Hall turned, a flicker of relief washing over her face.

"Lord Jarvis…" But he didn't reply; he simply took a deliberate step forward.

In the blink of an eye, the world around him distorted.

With no sound, an invisible explosion of energy burst forth as Jarvis vanished, and in the next heartbeat... blood erupted like fireworks across the field.

The first row of assassins didn't even see him move; their bodies just split apart, limbs and blood raining down. Before the next group could react,

Jarvis reappeared behind them, his demeanor unfazed as he spoke, his voice almost a breeze carried through the air.

"Too slow."

He flicked his fingers, and a flash of red cut through the air.

Seven bodies twitched violently before dissolving into red mist, their blood cascading like a downpour.

The others screamed in horror. One man swung his sword wildly, panic etched in his eyes.

Jarvis simply tilted his head, effortlessly catching the blade between two fingers.

"Tier four?" he mused, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

The assassin's eyes widened in terror. Before he could react, Jarvis's other hand moved with lightning speed, snapping the man's neck with barely a whisper of sound.

The field was drenched in crimson, corpses crumpling to the ground faster than gravity could claim them.

Every action Jarvis took was precise, clean, and chillingly casual.

One assassin tried to flee, but in an instant, he exploded into a cloud of red mist.

Another rushed at him from behind, but Jarvis didn't even look.

With a soft hum and a flick of his wrist, the man's head was severed, rolling across the blood-soaked grass.

In mere moments, fifty men lay lifeless on the ground, and the Assassins of Abyss Hall ceased all movement. Even these seasoned killers, used to the chaos of battle, stood frozen in shock.

Meanwhile, Jarvis remained at the center, unscathed, stepping lightly through the blood-soaked earth.

For a brief moment, silence enveloped the scene,the only sounds were the whispering grass and a gentle breeze.

Then, a low hum began to break the stillness, followed by the emergence of a blood-red crystal from Jarvis's forehead, glowing softly.

The fallen bodies began to twitch, their blood stirring as streams of crimson rose like mist, drawn toward him.

In seconds, the ground was left devoid of life; every body turned pale and desiccated, collapsing into dust.

Jarvis took a deep breath, his eyes half-closed, the crystal's glow pulsing with his inhalations.

When it faded, he let out a soft sigh and licked his lips. "Still not sufficient," he muttered.

As if nothing had happened, he straightened his glasses and turned to the leader of Abyss Hall.

"Take Lady Clara back to the estate." The woman bowed immediately.

"Yes, Lord Jarvis." He cast one last glance at the devastation, the moon's reflection stark in his glasses.

Then, without uttering another word, his figure shimmered and disappeared into the air.

The wind howled across the desolate field, scattering the remnants of the deceased into the night.

Meanwhile, far off, beneath the serene glow of Astheria's lanterns, laughter echoed through the streets, blissfully unaware that just miles away, an entire battalion had been annihilated in moments, and that the darkness was only beginning to awaken.

The night swallowed the silence whole, and the name "Morningstar" began to glow even brighter.