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"Ding"

The Core Bead in Murphy’s chest dinged, prompting him, who had been struggling to defend against an invisible enemy akin to a midnight assassin, to raise his hand in a pause gesture.

Almost simultaneously, the cold blade of the demon sword gently caressed Murphy’s neck like a shadowy hand.

"This Midnight Assassin Swordsmanship is indeed skillful, perfectly tailored for ambush assassination. Worth learning!"

Murphy sheathed the Frostfang blade, glanced ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

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