I got transmigrated with Incubus system-Chapter 23: Assassination

Suddenly Arthur woke up by sound of someone knocking his door. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, the silk sheets falling to his waist.

"Come in," he said, his voice scratchy from sleep.

The door crashed open, hitting the wall. Elliot stood there looking pale and messy, totally unlike his usual decent self.

"What's so important at this hour?" Arthur asked, noticing it was barely dawn outside.

"The king is—" Elliot's voice broke. He took a breath and tried again. "The king is dead, Your Highness."

For a second, Arthur couldn't process what he'd heard. Then it hit him. He jumped out of bed and grabbed a robe.

"When? How?" he asked while tying the robe and heading to the door.

"Not even an hour ago. They're saying he died in his sleep."

Arthur walked quickly past Elliot without waiting for more details. The hallway was filling up with confused courtiers and worried servants, many still in their nightclothes.

News of the king's death was spreading fast throughout the castle.

He headed straight for his father's royal rooms, with Elliot hurrying to keep up. Guards stood at attention as he approached, no one stopping him despite the early hour.

The king's bedroom was packed with people—guards, the royal healers, several officials, and Queen Isolde. She stood by the bed with a perfectly sad expression, though Arthur noticed her eyes weren't wet. When she saw him enter, something flashed across her face—maybe relief, or something else.

King Roderick lay in his huge bed.

His skin was waxy pale, but his face looked peaceful, like he'd just fallen asleep forever.

Arthur walked to the bedside, feeling everyone watching him—the new heir looking at the dead king. As he looked down at his father, a notification popped up in his vision.

```

[Alert: Anomalous Energy Detected]

[Analysis: Subject died of calculated energy attack]

[Unfamiliar magical residue present: Trace amounts]

[Suggested Action: Investigate point of contact]

```

Arthur stopped, processing what he was seeing. "This wasn't natural," he said out loud without thinking.

The room went completely quiet. Then everyone started talking at once.

"What did you say?" Lord Chancellor Voss demanded, his fat cheeks shaking with anger.

"Your Highness, the king clearly died in his sleep," the court doctor insisted, nervously adjusting his glasses. "Everything points to heart failure, which matches his poor health."

Queen Isolde's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied Arthur more carefully. "Why would you say that, Arthur?"

Arthur realized he'd made a mistake. The system information wasn't something he should've known normally. He needed to cover his tracks.

"Something just feels... off," he said instead, moving closer to look at the body. "Father was sick, yes, but he seemed to be getting better yesterday."

As Arthur leaned over the king, he secretly activated his Emotional Sensing ability to scan the room.

```

[Emotional Sensing: Active]

[Multiple Targets Scanned]

[Notable Results:

- Queen Isolde: Grief 20%, Relief 60%, Anxiety 70%

- Court Physician: Fear 85%, Deception 90%

- Lord Chancellor: Confusion 50%, Opportunity 75%]

[Energy Cost: -10]

[Energy Reserves: 240/300]

```

The doctor's readings were especially troubling. The man was lying and terrified about something.

He kept examining his father's body, looking for any clue about how the attack might have happened.

His eyes caught a tiny discoloration on the king's neck, just below his ear—a small mark that looked almost like a shadow.

Before he could get a better look, the chamber doors burst open again. Several confident figures walked in.

The leader wore dirty but expensive clothes under a dark green cloak with a silver hawk-shaped clasp.

Arthur's system immediately alerted him: fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

```

[Warning: Multiple S-Rank Entities Detected]

[Threat Assessment: Extreme if Hostile]

[Energy Signature Analysis: Various Magical Specialties]

```

The leader pulled back his hood, showing a handsome face with silver-streaked black hair. He looked around forty, but his eyes seemed much older.

A thin scar ran from his right temple to his jaw on his otherwise perfect face.

"We're too late," he said in a grim voice with a strange accent Arthur couldn't place.

Three more people came in behind him. The first was clearly a dwarf, barjwith a rust-colored beard decorated with metal braids. He wore heavy armor covered in glowing runes.

The second person stayed hooded, their face hidden in shadow despite the bright room. Only their hands were visible—thin fingers wearing silver rings that seemed to swallow light rather than reflect it.

But the third person completely caught Arthur's attention. She was definitely an elf—tall and graceful, with silver-white hair hanging straight to her waist.

Her features were incredibly perfect, with high cheekbones, full lips, and deep violet eyes. She wore tight-fitting leather armor in dark blue with silver details that matched her hair.

The elf woman immediately looked at Arthur, her eyes narrowing slightly. She moved gracefully to stand beside the human leader, whispering something that made him look at Arthur with new interest.

"Who are you?" Lord Chancellor Voss finally demanded. "How dare you barge into the king's chambers uninvited!"

The leader stood up straighter, suddenly looking very royal. "I am Darien Hawklight, Commander of the Seven Heroes. An

These are my companions—Krag Stonefist, Zephyr Nightwalker, and Lady Sylrathi Moonwhisper." He pointed to each person. "We've just returned from the Eastern Wastes with urgent news, but we're too late."

Whispers spread through the room. The Seven Heroes were famous warriors who had saved the kingdom from demons ten years ago. They reported directly to the king and operated mostly outside normal court politics.

"Too late for what?" Arthur asked, stepping forward.

Hawklight looked at Arthur, sizing him up coldly. "Too late to warn King Roderick that the Eastern Coalition had marked him for death."

The room erupted in shocked cries. Queen Isolde stepped forward, her calm mask slipping. "Are you saying he was murdered?"

"Exactly that, Your Majesty," said the elf woman—Sylrathi—her voice musical but somehow ancient. She moved gracefully toward the king's body, people automatically moving out of her way. "May I?"

Without waiting for an answer, she put her slim hand on the king's forehead. Her eyes closed, and a faint silver glow came from her palm. After a moment, she took her hand away, looking grim.

"Soul-drain poison," she announced. "Given through a puncture wound." Her violet eyes flicked to Arthur with new interest. "Just as the young prince suspected."

Everyone turned to look at Arthur, who felt a chill run down his spine from the elf's penetrating gaze.

There was something in her eyes—recognition, maybe, or curiosity—that suggested she saw more than she should.

"How did you know, Prince Arthur?" Hawklight asked. "Very few people can detect such subtle magic without special training."

Before Arthur could think of an answer, the castle warning bells started ringing—not the slow, sad toll that would announce a king's death, but the fast, urgent ring that meant immediate danger.

Krag Stonefist, the dwarf, muttered something in his own language, his hand moving to the huge war hammer on his back. "They're here already."

"Who's here?" asked the Lord Chancellor, his face white with fear.

"The second wave," Hawklight replied grimly. "The king's death was just the beginning."

The hooded figure—Zephyr—spoke for the first time, their voice neither male nor female and eerily calm. "The outer magical barriers have been broken. Eastern assassins, at least twelve of them."

Hawklight turned to Arthur, dropping all politeness. "Your Highness, you need to get somewhere safe right now. The Crimson Empire wants to wipe out the entire Lionheart family before sunrise."

Just then, a loud crash echoed through the castle, followed by shouts and the clear sound of weapons clashing.

"Krag, Zephyr—secure the area," Hawklight ordered. "Sylrathi, take Prince Arthur to the sanctuary room."

The elf woman nodded, moving gracefully to Arthur's side. "Come, Your Highness. We must hurry."

Arthur hesitated, looking at Queen Isolde, who stood frozen beside the king's body. "What about the queen? And my brother?"

"The queen will come with us," Sylrathi said. "Prince Gareth will be protected by Zephyr in the infirmary."

The hooded figure nodded once before literally melting into the shadows at the edge of the room, disappearing completely.

"I'm not hiding while my castle is under attack," Arthur said firmly, using his Royal Authority. "As the heir, I'm in command now."

Hawklight frowned. "With all due respect, Your Highness, you have no experience fighting Crimson Empire assassins. They're specially trained to kill magical nobility."

"Then I'll have to learn fast," Arthur replied, staring back without flinching. "Because I won't abandon my people when they need me most."

For a moment, tension crackled between them. Then, surprisingly, Sylrathi laughed—a sound like silver bells that seemed out of place in such a serious situation.

"He has spirit, Darien," she said, her violet eyes looking at Arthur with new interest. "Maybe there's more to this young prince than we can see."

Before Hawklight could answer, the doors to the royal chamber crashed open. Guards shouted warnings as a shadow dropped from the ceiling, moving impossibly fast.

The assassin moved like flowing darkness, blades flashing in both hands. Two guards fell dead before they could even raise their weapons, their throats cut with perfect precision.

Arthur only had a second to see what the attacker looked like—tight black clothing, face covered except for eyes that glowed with an unnatural red light—before Sylrathi shoved him roughly aside, her hands already drawing patterns of silver light in the air.

The battle for Lyranth had begun...