Find 50+ Advance chapters
And for More Fan fiction
👇
👇
[Support link: pat reon.com/RioRaRyu]
------------
"What do you mean, a bolt of lightning?"
The Elder's tone was uncharacteristically unstable.
Even after hearing the report, he still found it unbelievable.
Five hundred men.
Professionally trained.
Abilities surpassing special forces.
Equipped with the world's best gear.
And all of them had been wiped out in one night by a single "bolt of lightning."
As if they were nothing.
The Elder couldn't accept it.
He couldn't accept losing his men.
He already knew the mission was likely to fail once Sloan reported that some assassins had defected and become Templar Knights.
But this mission had only been meant as a probe.
And now-
Five hundred men used to probe the enemy's strength were annihilated without revealing anything.
By a "bolt of lightning."
"What exactly was that lightning?" the Elder asked coldly, turning to Sloan.
Sloan had been escorted in by subordinates.
"Was it the Fraternity of Assassins?"
"Of course not," Sloan replied. "If we had that kind of power, I wouldn't be standing here."
"Besides, you know what kind of supernatural abilities the Fraternity possesses-things science can't explain."
Sloan looked at him.
"The Loom of Fate. Curved bullets. Healing fluid. Carlos's long-distance sniping."
"That's basically all of it."
It was clear Sloan understood very well how far the assassins' abilities went beyond physics.
"And as for this lightning," Sloan continued, squinting slightly, "you're telling me you have no idea what it might be?"
"...Heh."
The Elder stared at Sloan for a long time.
Then he waved his hand.
A subordinate brought over a rough, old bronze box and placed it on the table.
"The closest thing I can think of," the Elder said slowly, "is this."
He opened the box and took out two pieces of parchment.
The drawings were faded and blurry with age, but still recognizable.
On them-
A hooded assassin wielding a long, lightning-wreathed blade.
Facing a man in heavy armor holding a spherical object.
"What is this..." Sloan froze.
He owned ancient texts himself, but he had never seen this scene.
"This is an assassin," the Elder said.
"And this is a Templar Knight."
He reached into a hidden compartment at the bottom of the box.
"And what they're holding-"
"One, I suspect, is the source of that lightning."
"And the other..."
The Elder lifted a metal sphere slightly larger than a hand.
"...is what I'm holding."
"The Apple of Eden."
He weighed it in his palm.
"But I can't use it," the Elder said quietly. "All this time, I thought it was just an antique."
"But now..."
"Maybe it has another purpose."
"Who knows?" Sloan replied casually. "Maybe."
"Heh heh..." The Elder chuckled.
"Sloan, do you know the saying 'less is more'?"
"I don't understand what you mean," Sloan said calmly.
"Tell me how to use this," the Elder said, turning the golden Apple without looking up.
"..."
Sloan fell silent.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about."
"I know what you're thinking," the Elder said.
"Your organization has fallen. Mine hasn't taken real damage yet."
"So you want me to suffer the same fate?"
A subordinate brought over a tray.
On it lay a pile of loose metal parts.
"I'm fully aware of the threat posed by the Templar Knights," the Elder continued.
"Especially after that lightning appeared."
He picked up two parts and began assembling them.
"I don't care that five hundred men died."
"What I care about is how easily they were killed."
"And what kind of power the enemy is still hiding."
"I don't believe they're just the small group Hawkeye discovered."
"They must have more people."
More parts clicked together.
"And I also know how people feel about the High Table right now."
"If someone takes the lead and I can't suppress them immediately-"
"And they're clever-"
"Then it's only natural our forces will defect."
"Just like Hawkeye. Just like the Mole in New York."
He assembled the final piece.
The Elder picked up the completed device and strapped it to his right hand.
When he extended his palm, Sloan noticed-
The Elder's ring finger was missing.
A button was pressed.
A spring-loaded blade snapped out.
A hidden blade.
"Times may have changed," the Elder said as he stood and walked toward Sloan.
"But as an Assassin's Master..."
"You deserve to die by a hidden blade."
He stopped in front of Sloan.
"I'll ask you one last time."
"Do you know how to use the Apple of Eden?"
"Are you ready?" Morin asked.
"I'm a little nervous," Eric admitted with a shrug.
"Even as the CEO of a multinational pharmaceutical company, I've never spoken to an audience spanning all fifty states."
"And I assume it'll be broadcast worldwide the moment it goes live."
"You're a good speaker," Morin said. "Relax. Just tell them what you really experienced."
Eric: "..."
Could you really say that with a straight face?
Say it differently and the meaning completely changes, you know.
But-
Eric thought it through.
He had already used that style of speech several times.
Continuing now wasn't unacceptable.
The only difference-
Before, only two or three people were listening.
This time, the audience would be far larger.
They were inside a live broadcast studio.
Government officials were still testing equipment.
Soon, the broadcast would take over every television channel in the United States.
A street near the New York Continental Hotel.
"I heard last night..."
"Yeah, I still can't believe the Continental broke away from the High Table..."
"Who would've thought the High Table would have a day like this?"
"I'm so happy..."
"Shh. Do you want to die?"
"Why would I be nervous? This is Continental territory now. Not the High Table's."
Pedestrians hurried past.
Almost every conversation revolved around the same topic.
Dark red bloodstains were still visible on the ground.
But no one was afraid.
If anything, they were excited to walk there.
Because it was the blood of the High Table's men.
The New York Continental Hotel had rebelled.
The High Table had sent people to suppress them.
And they had failed.
Failed catastrophically.
The people who felt joy weren't just those enjoying the spectacle.
They were people finally releasing emotions they had suppressed for years.
Hatred.
Fear.
Resentment.
All of it.