Sher leaned closer to the trembling urn, tilting her ear toward it, straining to catch the voice Cassian had mentioned. But aside from the urn's faint rattling, she heard nothing. Confused, she frowned.
"I don't hear anyone…" she murmured.
Yet, Cassian still heard it—a whisper on the edge of despair. A voice, weak and aching, a cry for help so faint it barely clung to existence.
"Help... help..." The voice repeated the same desperate plea, but for some reason, Cassian felt no sympathy. Instead, an unsettling instinct took hold—rather than freeing whatever was inside, he felt an urge to intensify its suffering.
There was something locked within the urn. A murderous intent, twisted and simmering.
Sher glanced at him. "What's it saying?"
"Asking for help… seems to want out," Cassian murmured, lost in thought. Then, after a pause, he added, "And for some reason, I really don't want to help it. But my domain—" his fingers brushed the urn's surface, "—it's reacting. Almost eager to help… urn is a missing part of it."
Sher barely spared the urn another glance, her tone indifferent as she said, "All these cursed things usually have some ghost or spirit attached to them. You should pick something else. We don't have any real information about this urn—just that it was made during the Great War, two thousand years ago."
She crossed her arms, shifting her weight. "The only reason we know that much is because some mage recognized the sealing runes while researching them. Back then, the urn didn't react to anything. Not even a tremor."
Her gaze flicked to Cassian before she continued, "But seeing how many high-tier sealing spells and enchantments were cast on it, the higher-ups refused to allow anyone to open it."
Cassian nodded, unwilling to open it either. Whatever was sealed inside had to be something truly sinister to radiate such overwhelming murderous intent. Even he found it unsettling.
Sher, equally surprised, studied the urn with a wary expression. "Whatever's inside must have killed countless people… It's not easy to release this much murderous intent, especially while being restrained by so many powerful spells."
Cassian nodded again, his gaze lingering on the seals etched into the urn. The sheer concentration of magical energy was undeniable. He wouldn't lie—his curiosity nagged at him, wondering what kind of person or creature had been sealed inside to accumulate such murderous intent. But then, recalling the old idiom "Curiosity kills the cat," he forced himself to look away.
"Well, no reason to tempt fate," he muttered, pulling his attention away from the urn and toward the dull-looking bracelet nearby. "Tell me about this thing. For some reason, it feels like a perfect match for my domain."
Sher's eyes lit up as she reached for the bracelet, which, unlike the urn, wasn't locked away. Holding it up with a smirk, she said, "Ohhh… this?"
She turned it over in her hands before continuing, "It's called the Assassin's Bracelet. There aren't many left in the world since the material they were crafted from has completely died out."
Cassian wasn't impressed. The name was a little too straightforward. Sensing his lack of enthusiasm, Sher quickly added, "Don't let the simple name fool you. This is one of the most sought-after artifacts in the assassin world."
She pointed at the nine clear gemstones embedded in the bracelet. "See these gems?"
As Cassian examined eight of them, she continued, "They were created by compressing hundreds of liters of blood from a magical beast called the Hythmir. This creature has a slime-like, transparent blood that allows it to blend into its surroundings by merging with the surrounding mana, making it nearly invisible to the human eye."
She smirked before adding, "When mages discovered that its blood was the source of this ability, they sought to harness it. That's how this bracelet was made—each gemstone contains the essence of compressed Hythmir blood. And as for why it resonates with your Killing Domain... well, that part is simple."
"Because it makes a person good at killing," Cassian interjected.
Sher nodded. "Not just good—world-class. Even I have to be careful around those who use it. But there's a catch. The bracelet requires a massive amount of mana to function, so you can't stay hidden for long. At your level, a few minutes is the limit."
She smirked. "But sometimes, that's all it takes to change the flow of battle… or even win outright."
Cassian nodded thoughtfully. He wasn't planning on becoming an assassin, but he could see the value in having the bracelet. Besides, the crown felt ridiculous—wearing it in battle would only make him look like a fool. But this? This was something practical. Something deadly.
From Sher's explanation, it was clear the bracelet had a bloody history. Like many other relics, it carried the lingering aura of those who had used it before—killers who had left their mark, their murderous intent still clinging to the artifact.
As Cassian held it, surrounded by all these bloodstained objects, something within him stirred. His vision tinged scarlet, his thoughts sharpening into hundreds of ways to kill. His domain pulsed with excitement, reacting to the overwhelming presence of death that saturated the air.
Cassian closed his eyes, steadying his breath as he silenced the murderous intent swirling around him. The oppressive aura of death and bloodlust, which had threatened to pull him deeper, gradually faded into the background. When he opened his eyes again, they had returned to their usual sharpness, the scarlet hue vanishing.
"I'll take it," he said, his voice steady as he reached out and took the bracelet from Sher's hands.
She grinned, satisfied. "Good choice."
Sliding the bracelet onto his wrist, Cassian felt a faint pulse of energy from the embedded gemstones. It was subtle, yet potent—like a predator lying in wait.
Sher clapped her hands together. "Now, let's get you a nice dinner. I'm done for today anyway," she said. As they began walking out, she smirked and added, "Though, considering the wealth you just got your hands on, you should be the one paying. But a promise is a promise—one dinner for your massage."
Cassian, however, cast one last glance at the shaking urn. Unlike everything else in the treasury, which had fallen still the moment he retracted his domain, the urn continued to tremble, the only object making a sound in the otherwise silent room.
His curiosity burned, but he knew better than to push his luck. He had already chosen the bracelet, and Sher wouldn't let him take anything else—not without a fight. Even if he gave up the bracelet, she wouldn't allow him to take the urn. It was too dangerous.
With a final glance, he turned away, following Sher out of the treasury, but the thought of what lay trapped inside that urn refused to leave his mind.