Years passed, and Rigo was now fifteen.
She had become one of the finest assassins in the Empire—a blade sharp and merciless, completely obedient to the Emperor’s command. Every elimination mission she was assigned, whether against rebels, traitorous nobles, or even suspicious members of the Emperor’s own family, was carried out with terrifying precision.
The name Rigo had become a nightmare whispered throughout the Empire.
To the common people, she was no longer human. She was a shadow of death that arrived without warning.
Yet behind all of that, there was still one person who endured.
A woman who continued to look at Rigo with eyes full of love, even though the daughter she saw had long since become a killing machine.
That woman was Elina, Rigo’s mother.
No matter how much Rigo changed, Elina still cared for her, feeding her whenever she returned from a mission.
One quiet night, in a small room far from the central halls of the Gelar Clan headquarters, Elina sat across from Rigo.
The room was simple, almost unchanged since Rigo’s childhood. A narrow bed stood against the wall, beside an old wooden table and a small window through which pale moonlight filtered in.
On the table sat a bowl of warm rice and a small plate of side dishes, carefully prepared by Elina.
Rigo sat quietly on the floor.
Her posture was straight as always, but her eyes revealed nothing. Her face was expressionless, like stone untouched by emotion.
Elina lifted a spoonful of rice and held it toward her daughter.
Rigo accepted the bite without reaction.
It was as if this moment was nothing more than an empty routine—a meaningless ritual performed without thought.
Elina watched her daughter’s face carefully, searching for even the faintest trace of the soul she once knew.
“Did the mission go well this time?” she asked softly, hoping for more than a brief answer.
“Yes.”
Rigo’s reply was short, her voice flat and mechanical.
“The target was eliminated.”
Elina swallowed, feeling a tightness in her chest. Every word Rigo spoke felt cold, as though the bond between them had already vanished.
Still, she tried again.
“You… weren’t hurt, were you?”
Rigo shook her head slightly without lifting her gaze.
“No significant injuries.”
Elina exhaled slowly, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears. She steadied her voice despite the pain growing in her heart.
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“You’ve worked hard, my dear. Mother is proud of you—not for what you do, but because you are Rigo… my daughter.”
Rigo did not respond.
To her, those words were nothing more than sounds without meaning, faint echoes lost in the darkness of her mind, shaped by years of brutal training.
She simply opened her mouth again as Elina fed her another spoonful of rice, continuing to eat without taste or expression.
For Elina, these were the most painful moments.
Rigo was sitting right in front of her, physically present.
But the daughter she once knew—the curious little girl who laughed at bedtime stories—had long since disappeared, buried beneath layers of indifference forged by the Gelar Clan’s merciless training.
Meanwhile, her husband—the leader of the Gelar Clan—had never cared about what Rigo did in her spare time.
To a man who had devoted himself completely to the clan’s values, only one thing mattered:
That Rigo carried out her missions perfectly.
As long as she remained the Emperor’s loyal blade, she was free to do whatever she wished.
In his eyes, emotions were nothing but unnecessary obstacles.
And he was pleased to see his daughter finally become exactly what he had always wanted:
A perfect weapon.
Without feelings.
Without mercy.
Far away, the arrogant Emperor sat upon his golden throne, studying the report of Rigo’s latest mission with a satisfied smile.
Rigo was his ultimate weapon.
A blade that never hesitated.
He had no qualms about sending her to the most dangerous and chaotic battlefields.
To him, Rigo was proof of his absolute control over the Gelar Clan—and he took pride in the authority he wielded over them.
They are nothing more than useful tools, he thought.
And Rigo was the finest tool of them all.
The Gelar Clan, the most elite assassin clan in the Empire, had produced warriors beyond compare.
Every child was trained from a young age to discard all emotion and doubt.
They were taught to become ghosts on the battlefield—figures who vanished into the shadows and reappeared only to deliver death.
And among them, Rigo was the best.
An unmatched assassin.
Every mission she received ended in perfect completion.
Nobles who dared oppose the Emperor could hardly hope to stand against the Gelar Clan.
Even the Empire’s strongest soldiers felt dread at the thought of facing Rigo.
But to Elina…
Rigo was still her little girl.
Within every brutal act Rigo committed, Elina could still see fragments of the past.
The little girl who once asked endless questions about the world beyond the clan walls.
The child who laughed happily at fairy tales.
The girl who cried whenever she was hurt.
Now those memories felt distant and painful—like fading dreams buried beneath Rigo’s cold expression.
One night, after a long and dangerous mission, Rigo returned to the clan headquarters.
Her body was covered in wounds, yet there was no sign of pain on her face.
Only heavy footsteps and exhaustion in her movements.
Elina waited in the room as she always did, ointment and bandages prepared in her hands.
Rigo sat down on the floor, allowing her mother to tend to her wounds without a word.
“Do you ever feel tired, Rigo?” Elina asked softly.
Concern filled her voice, though she tried to hide her despair behind a gentle smile.
Rigo looked at her for a moment.
Her eyes remained flat and empty.
“I don’t feel anything, Mother,” she said calmly.
“Fatigue is not a choice.”
Those words pierced Elina’s heart more deeply than any blade.
To her, Rigo had not only lost her emotions—
She had lost herself.
Still, despite the pain, Elina searched desperately for even the smallest fragment of hope.
She stared into her daughter’s cold eyes, hoping to find a trace of humanity buried deep inside.
“I only hope… you know that Mother is still here,” Elina said quietly, though her voice carried unwavering determination.
“No matter what happens, I will always be here for you.”
Rigo remained silent.
But for the first time, her gaze seemed to soften—just slightly.
As if a faint emotion, long forgotten, had briefly stirred within her.
It lasted only a moment.
And no words followed.
Yet Elina felt it.
A tiny signal that perhaps, deep within that frozen heart…
Something had not completely died.
Though the world had turned Rigo into a ruthless blade, Elina still believed in one thing:
A mother’s love never truly disappears.
Even if it now lay hidden beneath layers of indifference, it endured like a small candle flame flickering in the darkness—waiting for the right moment to burn brightly again.
And within the darkness surrounding Rigo, there remained a single fragile point of light.
For Elina, that small light was the last hope she would continue to protect—
No matter how cruel the world became.
