Imperial Golden Assassin

“You—!”

Hans, Yulier, and the rest of the pirates nearly spat out blood in frustration.

What is this?! A cliffhanger?! This is worse than a cliffhanger!

Black waved his hand, shrugging. “I really did forget.”

“Still, don’t worry. Some fish were never meant to stay in a tank—because every single scale on their body shines with the light of freedom.”

“Just give me a little more time. I’ll remember.”

Hearing that, Hans and the others had no choice but to wait.

But what they didn’t know?

Black was lying.

He remembered the entire escape route from the Wilton—perfectly.

Because in the game, there was an exploration quest set entirely aboard the Wilton.

Players had to control the protagonist, avoid the Dragoncleaver Guards’ line of sight, map every room—some hiding treasure chests, others rigged with traps that would imprison you if triggered.

It was a notoriously difficult quest.
Even Black had failed multiple times—only completing it after studying a top player’s guide on the game forums.

So yes—he knew the route.
Exactly.

Then why not tell them?

Because Black had bigger plans.
Letting the pirates escape too early would only complicate things.

After a moment, Black realized something was off.
Why had this woman been so quiet for so long?

From the start, Loyre hadn’t shown any interest in his talk of escape routes.
As if she didn’t care about breaking free.

Noticing Black’s suspicious gaze, Loyre didn’t bother responding.
She simply said, coldly:

“You can escape if you want.”

That—that was when Black’s instincts screamed.

Loyre might be stubborn, but she wasn’t stupid.
She wasn’t the type to charge headfirst into certain death.

And now, with a real chance to survive—to escape—she just… didn’t care?

That was impossible.
Too unnatural.

If he asked directly, she’d never tell him anything.

But Black had a feeling.
This woman—always one step ahead—was planning something in secret.

On instinct, he activated his Omniscient Glasses.

And then—he froze.

[Name: Loyre (False) / Karin von Braun (True)]
[Identity: Captain of the White Pearl Pirate Crew (False) / Noble Heiress of the von Braun Duchy (True)]
[Class Level: Lv.91 Emperor-Tier · Gold Assassin]
[Favorite Food: ???]
[Hobby: ???]
[Critical Info: The one who killed Duke von Braun was not a member of the royal family]
[Expected Fate: ???]

Where it once said Lv.40 Mid-Tier · Gold Sorceress, it now read Lv.91 Emperor-Tier · Gold Assassin.

?

??

???????????????????????

Staring at those words, Black felt his heart lurch up his throat.
His eyes locked onto the screen—unblinking.

Could someone please tell the damn game designer to explain what the hell this is?!

How did she jump from Level 40 to Level 91 overnight?!
And why did her class change from Sorceress to Assassin?!

This was way too much information!

Black started questioning if he was even a real player.
Even the richest pay-to-win players didn’t get upgrades like this!

In Dragonblood, the level system was simple:

1–30: Novice Tier
31–50: Mid-Tier
51–60: High-Tier
61–70: Peak-Tier
67–80: Super-Tier
81–90: Dragon-Tier
91–99: Emperor-Tier
Each tier was further divided into five ranks—Bronze, Silver, Gold, Diamond, Star—based on cultivation depth.
At the same tier and level, higher ranks dominated lower ones.
Gold > Silver > Bronze.

Level 100 had no tier—it was the pinnacle of the world.
The Twelve Sages and Twelve Dragon Kings from ancient times were all at this level.

Beyond that? Divine-Tier—a realm of gods.
Only legends spoke of it.

In this era, no one had reached Level 100.
Level 99 was the absolute limit.

Across the entire Dragonheart Empire—and all of Cassel Continent—only a handful had reached Emperor-Tier.

Each was a legendary powerhouse.

Empress Elizabeth was one of them.

But she’d earned it—through countless battles, near-death trials.

How could Loyre, a girl barely out of her teens, suddenly be Level 91?!

Black knew the game never mentioned this.

He was certain—this power wasn’t permanent.
It was forced growth.
Like a seed yanked from the soil—unnatural.

But how?
In this world, what method could instantly boost her level and change her class?

Drugs? Rare materials? Soul transference?

No.
Wait—magic scrolls.

Black suddenly remembered: there were high-tier spells that could temporarily boost power and even transform one’s class.

But casting such spells required a Dragon-Tier or higher sorcerer.
Loyre, a mere Mid-Tier, couldn’t possibly do it.

That left only one possibility: magic scrolls.

In the game, magic scrolls were incredibly rare.
Each contained a single spell—allowing anyone to cast high-tier magic regardless of level or class.

To achieve this kind of power spike, Loyre must’ve obtained an SS-rarity ancient spell scroll—from some long-lost ruin.

But why use such a rare, irreplaceable item?

The answer was obvious:

To assassinate Empress Elizabeth.

!!!

At that moment, Black remembered a critical detail he’d forgotten.

In the prologue, why did the Lv.91 Emperor-Tier Empress lose to Jörmungandr?

Yes—Jörmungandr had the Abyssal Rift buff.
And the Dragonblood Council sabotaged from within.

But there was another reason—one the game barely mentioned.

Before the battle, Empress Elizabeth had been assassinated.
She was severely wounded—her power shattered.

The game glossed over it. Never revealed who did it—Dragonblood Council? Another faction?

Players rioted, accusing the devs of artificially nerfing the empress just so the protagonist Jiaye could shine.
But the devs never responded.
Was it a mistake? Or a hidden clue?

Now, it made perfect sense.

The Dragonblood Council’s agents, while strong, couldn’t seriously injure the empress.
And if they struck before the battle, they’d expose themselves—ruining their entire plan.

But Loyre?

A girl with a personal grudge, a secret identity, and now—Emperor-Tier Assassin power?

The pieces fit.

The one who wounded the empress…
was almost certainly Loyre.