The Puppet Emperor Regresses

As the first undead rounded the corner, Mikhail sprang into action. 

Channelling mana to his legs, he propelled himself forward. His small hand reached out, trembling but determined, and made contact with the assassin's bony arm.

The touch was horrifying.

The assassin's skin felt like old, mushy, parchment - cold and lifeless. Mikhail could feel the unnatural magic animating the corpse, a sickening energy that made his stomach churn.

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. 

Then, in an instant, the assassin vanished. The sudden absence of resistance caused Mikhail to stumble forward, nearly falling flat on his face.

He barely had time to register his success before the second undead was upon him. Its bony hands reached for his throat, fingers like icy claws.

Gritting his teeth against the wave of revulsion, Mikhail ducked under the assassin's grasp.

He spun around, his back pressing against the cold stone wall, and reached out to touch the assassin's leg.

Again, he activated his Personal Dimensional Space, and again, the undead vanished.

Two down, one to go.

The final assassin, perhaps sensing the fate of its comrades, approached more cautiously. It stood at the end of the hallway, its empty eye sockets boring into Mikhail.

Mikhail's heart hammered in his chest as he faced the undead creature. 

His legs trembled, threatening to give out beneath him. 

Every instinct screamed at him to run, to hide, to do anything but confront this horror before him.

But he knew he couldn't run forever. It was now or never.

With a cry that was equal parts terror and determination. He channelled every ounce of mana he could muster into his legs, propelling himself forward with desperate speed.

In the grips of the silencing spell, his shout was eerily muted, more felt than heard.

The assassin reacted just as quickly, its blade flashing in the moonlight that streamed through a nearby window.

Mikhail felt a sharp sting across his cheek as the edge of the blade slashed his skin. But he didn't let the pain slow him down.

His fingers brushed against the assassin's tattered clothing, and with a final burst of will, he activated his Personal Dimensional Space.

In an instant, the hallway was empty save for Mikhail. The young prince stood alone, panting heavily, his whole body trembling with exhaustion and fading adrenaline.

He had done it. He had survived.

--- --- ---

Curiosity overcoming his fear, he cautiously entered his Personal Dimensional Space. The familiar void surrounded him, but it was no longer empty.

The three assassins stood motionless in the darkness, frozen in place like macabre statues. Here, in this realm where he was master, they posed no threat.

Still, Mikhail kept his distance, unwilling to test the limits of his control over this space.

As he studied the assassins, Mikhail knew he couldn't keep them here indefinitely. 

If the assassination attempt failed without any evidence of a struggle, it would alert whoever sent these undead to some hidden power Mikhail or someone protecting him may possess.

While that could be advantageous in its own way, it wasn't the game Mikhail wanted to play just yet.

He examined the assassins closely, noting the intricate runes carved into their bones. 

This was undoubtedly Vesper's work. His signature was all over the dark magic animating these corpses. And if Vesper was involved, the Empress's hand in this was certain.

"Questions for later," Mikhail muttered to himself. He had a quest to complete, after all.

Steeling himself, Mikhail exited the Personal Dimensional Space and made his way towards the villa's exit. 

Each step felt like an eternity, his tired legs protesting every movement. But he pushed on, knowing that he couldn't rest, not yet.

As he approached the villa's main doors, Mikhail began to hear sounds again.

The silencing spell's effect seemed to end at the threshold of the building. The sudden return of normal night-time noises - the rustle of leaves, the distant call of a night bird - was almost overwhelming after the unnatural silence inside.

Taking a deep breath of the cool night air, Mikhail sprinted towards the guards' quarters. As he approached, he could hear the sounds of men talking and laughing. 

They had no idea of the danger that had just transpired. There would be time for reprimands later.

Mikhail burst into the guards' quarters, his sudden appearance bringing all conversation to an immediate halt. "Assassins!" he shouted, his voice hoarse from the strain of the night's events. "Undead assassins in the main hall!"

The guards stared at him in shock for a moment, disbelief evident on their faces. But years of training kicked in, and they quickly sprang into action, grabbing weapons.

As the guards rushed past him towards the main hall, Mikhail followed at a distance. 

When they were almost at the entrance to the villa, he discreetly transferred two of the assassins from his Personal Dimensional Space into the hallway. He kept the third hidden away, a secret weapon for future use.

The battle that ensued was brutal and swift. The guards fought valiantly. Steel clashed against bone, and battle cries mixed with the eerie silence of the assassins.

Mikhail watched from the shadows, his heart in his throat. 

In the chaos of the fight, one guard fell, his throat torn out by bony fingers before he could raise his sword. The man's scream cut off in a wet gurgle, blood spraying across the ground. 

Mikhail forced himself to watch. This was the reality of the world he lived in, the consequences of the game he was playing.

Numbers and skill soon prevailed. The undead assassins were hacked to pieces, their animating magic dissipating in flashes of sickly green light.

As the villa erupted into frenzied activity, with messengers dispatched to alert the Imperial Palace, Mikhail was escorted to a guest room. His own chambers were now a crime scene, the shattered door a stark reminder of how close he had come to death.

Guards were posted at the door, below his window, and on the roof. The security that had been so lax earlier was now oppressive in its thoroughness. Once Mikhail was sure the coast was clear, he entered his Personal Dimensional Space.

The third assassin remained, and as Mikhail studied it, a new notification appeared before his eyes.

[System Alert: Quest Completed - Survival of the Fittest]

[System Alert: Divine Insight Skill Unlocked]

[System Alert: Through your survival and keen observations, you have unlocked the Divine Insight skill. This ability allows you to gain deeper understanding and information about people, objects, and situations.]

[System Alert: Reward: 5 Merit Points, Increased Survivability (+1 to Constitution), Divine Insight Skill]

“Oh, what’s this? Divine Insight?”, Mikhail mused, “Let’s try this out.”

Mikhail sat cross-legged in his Personal Dimensional Space, the void around him as dark and endless as ever.

Taking a deep breath, Mikhail focused on his new skill. "Divine Insight," he whispered, directing his attention towards the undead.

[System Alert: Divine Insight activated]

—-------------------------------------—-------------------------------------

Subject: Undead Assassin (Weakened) 

Created by: Mage Vesper (4th Circle) 

Quality: High 

Type: Necromantic Construct

Origin: Former Imperial Guard (identity unknown) 

Age at death: 35 years 

Time since reanimation: 3 months

.

Special Properties:

Advanced necromantic animation.

Retained some combat skills from life.

Multiple compulsion spells.

Traces of Mage Vesper's magical signature.

.

Hidden Runes:

Obedience rune (base of skull)

Silencing rune (throat)

Sensory enhancement rune (eye sockets)

.

Creator's Safeguards:

Memory wipe spell (activates upon capture)

.

Note:

Impressive craftsmanship for a 4th Circle Mage.

Potential for repurposing if safeguards can be neutralized.

—-------------------------------------—-------------------------------------

Mikhail's eyes widened as he absorbed the information. 

This construct was far more complex and dangerous than he had initially realized. But with this knowledge, he now had a potential weapon against Vesper and the Empress.

"Thank you for the gift, Vesper," Mikhail said softly, his voice echoing in the void. "I'll be sure to put it to good use."

He exited his Personal Dimensional Space and settled into the unfamiliar bed of the guest room. 

He knew things wouldn't be easy, but he never imagined his unexpected results in the Rite of Ascension would have changed the timeline to this degree.

The assassination attempt was a stark reminder of the dangers he faced, but also of the opportunities that lay before him.