The Deadly Assassin Robin (Tristan Storm) novel Chapter 1429

A long silence, broken only by quiet tears—tears not for pain, but for the memory of someone once admired beyond words.

Catherine had borne the weight of responsibility and the endless entanglements of life, hiding the storms in her heart behind silence and composure.

In the still, suffocating war room, the air felt as empty and dead as the depths of hell.

Catherine was utterly heartbroken.

She rose slowly, wiping her tears without a sound.

Her eyes, once bright with resolve, were now filled only with confusion and solitude.

In her right hand, she held the heavy Westeria Token. On her left, the Emberleaf Fans that Robin had entrusted to her.

Her heart was in utter turmoil.

In one hand, she bore the crushing weight of duty. In the other, the intoxicating call of freedom—the wildness of the underworld life she once knew.

Her body trembled as she stared at both items, each as heavy as a mountain.

After a long, aching silence, she suddenly looked up at the shadow on the video feed. Her eyes were bloodshot, her voice full of rage. "Why are you all so cold and heartless?!

"Is there truly no room in your perfect little world for someone honest and sincere?

"If it weren't for Robin's repeated instructions ... if not for Grandpa's endless warnings ... if not for the millions of kind, struggling souls out there, I'd gladly give my life to bring justice to those who still have the courage to stand tall.

"You're all just a bunch of jerks!"

She had tried to keep the pain buried. But now, it came bursting out like a dam breaking.

With a cry, Catherine slammed the token down on the desk. "I quit!"

"This wretched world, I don't know what the point is anymore—living, working, swallowing every insult just to survive. What's the point?!

"I'm dropping all this nonsense and going to find Robin. You all can carry on your little games without me."

She turned sharply, heading for the exit.

A voice came from the video feed, "Perhaps Mr. Drakebane is gone, but Robin might still be alive?"

Catherine froze mid-step.

She turned back slowly, hope igniting in her tear-filled eyes. "What ... what do you mean?"

The voice on the feed sighed deeply. "Sometimes, I wish I could be like him—a tragic hero. He had enemies, yes, but everyone admired him. Even his rivals.

"What happened over the Southwind Sea, that was something only he and I knew.

"He was our hero. How could this country turn its weapons on the child of its own champion?"

Catherine trembled, then suddenly grabbed the token again. Tears spilled freely once more.

Ten minutes later.

Global news networks began breaking the story:

At 10:58 p.m. tonight, the AN-LUSL aircraft registered as AN-0001, which carried Divine Drakebane, exploded midair over the Mistral Depths of the Southwind Sea.

Search and rescue vessels arrived quickly and found only scattered plane debris—scraps of fuselage and personal items. No human remains were recovered.

The operation extended over three months, with more and more rescue ships joining the effort.

Eventually, every search team officially confirmed that nothing belonging to Drakebane was ever found.

Experts later verified that the explosion was caused by onboard explosives, ruling out the possibility of an external attack.

Officially, Robin and his family were presumed dead in the air crash.

News outlets reached out to the military and government for confirmation.

The response was always the same: "Still under investigation."

Robin's fate remained officially undetermined.

Speculation and theories about Drakebane's fate never truly stopped.

Time and again, the topic was picked up by major high-viewership media outlets and turned into a hot-button issue for public debate.

During the first six months, both media outlets and private commentators approached the subject with great caution, speaking about it with measured respect and careful restraint.

Qacalisle Island —Duskhaven, beneath Harpton Highlands.

Golden sunlight spilled over the shimmering waters of the lake.

A gentle breeze whispered through the trees, casting playful shadows.

Shirley sat quietly, watching the lake's rippling surface, her white hair cascading over her slender shoulders.

Two chubby toddlers waddled over to her, each holding a bundle of wildflowers fragrant with the scent of dusk.

"Mommy, are they pretty?" the little girl asked, her chubby cheeks bouncing as she ran up.

Her twin brother tugged her arm. "Shh! Mommy's saying his name again."

"Jaron, who's this Robin that Mommy keeps talking about?" she asked.

Jaron Ramsey shook his little round head. "I dunno. She's always saying his name."

"Should I go ask her?. The girl's eyes lit up. "Maybe he owes her money?"

"No way," Jaron said, frowning. "Brenda said Mommy used to be rich. Why would she keep talking about someone just over money?"

"Mommy!" The little girl waddled over, her cheeks puffed out. "Who's that Robin guy you talk about every day? Does he owe you money? I'll tell Daddy to go get it back!"

Shirley scooped her into her arms and smiled, her eyes glowing with warmth. "No, cupcake. He doesn't owe me any money."

"Then why do you keep saying his name? Who is he?" The siblings asked in unison, eyes wide with curiosity.

Shirley chuckled softly. "Robin? He's a jerk."

"I need to tell Daddy about this!" The twins gasped, then darted off toward the house, bathed in the golden light of sunset.

"Daddy! Daddy! We've got something to tell you!"

Robin, setting a plate of freshly pan-fried fish on the table, turned toward his two little whirlwinds. "What is it? Why are you panicking? Is Mommy hungry?"

The little girl threw her arms around his neck. "Dad, Mommy says ... Robin's a jerk!"