The morning sun bathed the village in a soft, golden light. Inside Dark's home, the atmosphere was tense with anticipation. Dark stood at the center of the room, his eyes cold and determined. Leona, Tier, and Gilmuar watched him closely, sensing that something significant was about to be revealed.
Dark: I've made a decision. I'm going to confront the Assassin Empire and fight them all at once.
The room fell silent, the gravity of his words sinking in. Leona was the first to break the silence, her voice trembling with concern.
Leona: Dark, you can't be serious. The Assassin Empire is vast and powerful. It's suicide to take them on alone.
Tier, always the voice of reason, stepped forward, his brow furrowed in worry.
Tier: Dark, we've faced impossible odds before, but this... this is different. The Assassin Empire isn't just a group of warriors. They are trained killers, and their numbers are overwhelming.
Dark's gaze swept over his friends, his face expressionless and his resolve unshaken.
Dark: I don't care about the odds. We've seen powers and things so unnatural that it seems like a dream. Yet when I set a goal that could change everything, you all hesitate. Why?
Gilmuar, his expression serious, spoke up, his voice a deep rumble.
Gilmuar: It's not that we don't believe in you, Dark. It's just... this is unprecedented. The risks are beyond anything we've ever faced. You could be walking into a trap.
Dark's eyes narrowed slightly, but his voice remained flat and emotionless.
Dark: I don't care about your feelings or opinions on this. I'm doing it, with or without your support.
Leona took a step forward, her eyes pleading.
Leona: Dark, we just want to make sure you're not making a mistake. We're your friends. We're here to help.
Dark didn't respond. He turned on his heel and walked toward the door, his movements deliberate and unyielding. As he reached the door, he paused, his back still to his friends.
Dark: (thinking) I was always meant to walk this path alone.
Without another word, he opened the door and stepped outside, leaving Leona, Tier, and Gilmuar in stunned silence. The door closed behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
Tier: (whispering) What do we do now?
Gilmuar: We prepare. Whether he wants our help or not, we can't just stand by and do nothing.
Leona nodded, her expression resolute.
Leona: We'll find a way to support him, even if he doesn't want us to. He's our friend, and we won't let him face this alone.
Outside, Dark walked through the village, his mind focused on the task ahead. The memories of his past flashed through his mind—meeting Leona, losing his emotions, teaching Gilmuar, and encountering Tier. Each event had shaped him, but he had always been a lone warrior at heart.
Dark: (thinking) This is my fight. I won't let anyone else get hurt because of me.
He continued on his path, his destination clear. The Assassin Empire was a formidable enemy, but he was determined to bring them down. His heart was steeled, his mind sharp, and his will unbreakable.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Dark disappeared into the horizon, a solitary figure marching toward an uncertain future, ready to face whatever awaited him.
As Dark walked toward the Assassin Empire, the snow crunched beneath his boots, each step deliberate and unwavering. The Empire loomed ahead, its immense structure dominating the horizon, the largest building on Earth. The wind howled through the desolate landscape, whipping Dark's cape around him. His face remained emotionless, eyes fixed on his destination.
Dark: (talking to himself) Impossible my ass.
Suddenly, an arrow sliced through the air with a speed that rendered it nearly invisible. Dark's hand moved like lightning, snatching the arrow inches before it pierced his flesh. With a flick of his thumb, he snapped it in half, the pieces falling uselessly to the snow.
Dark: Come out here and fight me, cowards.
Laughter echoed from behind him, a mocking, sinister sound. Dark felt a tap on his shoulder, but when he spun around, there was no one there.
Dark: (thinking) The hell?
Without warning, an unseen blade slashed across his back, sending a shock of pain through his body. Dark gasped, dashing forward to evade, but the attacks continued relentlessly. Slash after slash, each cut deep, his blood spraying across the pristine snow. The speed of the blade and its wielder made them nearly invisible, a blur of deadly precision.
Dark collapsed to the ground, his body rendered bloody and broken. He tried to move, but his muscles refused to obey, frozen by the icy air and the searing pain. He closed his eyes, gathering what little strength he had left.
A familiar voice broke the silence.
Ryu: Oi, you have just consumed every ounce of frostbite from my blade.
Ryu appeared before Dark, holding his chin and lifting his face.
Ryu: Khheehahahahahaaaaa.
Ryu kicked Dark in the face, sending him sprawling backward into the snow. Blood gushed from Dark's mouth and nose, staining the white ground.
Dark: (thinking) I'm gonna kill him. All of them. Every last one of them.
Dark clenched his fist, forcing his body to move despite the agony. He saw Ryu's leg striking at him again and, with a burst of energy, evaded by flipping into the air. His cape billowed out behind him, catching the wind like the wings of a dark angel. As he descended, he drew his katana, the blade gleaming ominously.
In slow motion, Dark twisted in mid-air, his katana slicing through the falling snowflakes. The blade met Ryu's back with a satisfying, wet sound, cutting through flesh and muscle with ease. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, splattering the snow and staining Dark's cape.
Ryu screamed in pain, a guttural, primal sound. He stumbled forward, his hands clawing at his back as the blood flowed freely.
Dark landed gracefully, the snow crunching under his boots. He slowly turned to face the Empire, his expression cold and unyielding. He reached down and gripped Ryu's hair, yanking him upright. Ryu's screams of agony filled the air as Dark dragged him toward the gates, each step leaving a trail of blood in the snow.
Ryu: DAMN YOU!! DAMN YOU!!
Ryu: I'LL KILL YOU!!
Ryu: DAAMNNN YOOUUU!!! DAARRKKK!!!
Dark turned his head slightly, his eyes glowing with a deadly light, his face shrouded in shadows. With a swift motion, he plunged his katana into Ryu's eye, twisting the blade before pulling it out. Blood and gore spurted from the wound, painting the snow red.
Dark: Open up.
With a powerful kick, Dark shattered the massive gates. The wooden beams splintered and fell, the heavy doors crashing to the ground. He stepped through the wreckage, broken pieces falling harmlessly around him, his path clear.
As Dark entered, a group of low-rank assassins rushed forward, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
Assassin 1: How did he defeat Ryu?
Assassin 2: Is this even possible?
Assassin 3: This man... he's a monster.
Assassin 4: We need to stop him, but...
Their murmurs of disbelief filled the air, but Dark ignored them, continuing his relentless march forward. Suddenly, a figure stepped forward, exuding an aura of authority and menace.
The new arrival's clothes were more elaborate, signifying a higher rank than Ryu. He stood tall, his eyes cold and calculating.
Harbos: I am Harbos, Blade of Zerous. And I of all, have never heard of defeat.
Dark paused, his gaze locking onto Harbos, his expression unchanged. The stage was set for the next confrontation, the air thick with tension and the promise of bloodshed.
Harbos advanced with a deliberate, menacing stride, each step causing a deep, resonant thud that echoed through the snow-laden ground. The crunch of snow under his boots was the only sound breaking the eerie silence. As he drew his sword, the blade shimmered with a deadly glint, the metallic rasp cutting through the biting cold. In a heartbeat, he propelled himself at Dark, his movement so rapid it left a ghostly blur in the air. Dark, relying on his seasoned instincts, deftly sidestepped the assault, his body moving with the precision of a well-honed warrior. In retaliation, he swung his katana with lethal speed towards Harbos. To his dismay, the sword clashed against Harbos's skin with a shrill, grinding noise, like nails on a chalkboard. The Kyuketsu fractured under the formidable resistance of Harbos's armored flesh.
Dark: (thinking) What sorcery is this? His skin... it's impenetrable.
Dark vaulted backward, recalibrating his stance amidst the slowly falling snowflakes, which seemed to hover in the air. He planted his right leg firmly behind him, crouching low, as the Kyuketsu slid back into its sheath, emerging from the shadows. The sheath emitted a deep, resonant hum, akin to a temple bell, infused with an ethereal aura.
Drawing a deep breath, Dark felt the icy air fill his lungs, sharpening his focus. He exhaled, channeling his energy into a concentrated point.
Harbos: (thinking) This... this cannot be. A mere human, an unranked youth, wielding the Heavenly Blade? Not even I, Harbos, have mastered such an art.
Dark crouched lower, his muscles coiling like a spring, ready to unleash a cataclysmic attack.
Dark: (thinking) I have no idea what I'm doing, but whatever it is, it's working.
The camera zoomed in on Harbos's face, capturing a fleeting glimpse of fear in his eyes.
Dark: (thinking) His face betrays his fear. He's terrified of whatever I'm about to do. That's good.
Harbos: (thinking) I must maintain my composure. Once he moves, I'll counter with all my might and make him taste his own power.
Abruptly, blood began to gush from Harbos's mouth and nose, as though an unseen force had struck his heart. His eyes widened in shock as he collapsed to the ground, his body convulsing. Dark rose slowly, the world around him returning to its normal pace. A triumphant smile crept across his lips.
Dark: Ahh, there we go. Whatever I just did, it worked.
Harbos: What... the...?
A haunting melody filled the air as Dark walked past Harbos, each step deliberate and unyielding. The camera focused on Harbos, capturing his final, agonizing moments.
Harbos: I... was defeated... ha...
Harbos's laughter was a hollow, pained sound, soon interrupted by violent coughing fits, blood spraying from his lips. His laughter was a bitter symphony of disbelief and resignation.
Harbos: Haha... by a mere child...
Harbos: I vowed never to awaken the beast...
He lay back in the snow, arms splayed wide in a star shape, his life ebbing away.
Harbos: Forgive me, Emperor... I cannot bear the shame of being defeated by such a weakling.
Harbos raised his right hand, drawing a small, ancient-looking dagger. With a swift, decisive motion, he plunged it into his own head. His arm fell limply to the ground. The camera lingered, then zoomed in rapidly as a crust formed over Harbos's skin, turning it grotesque and hardened. He began to rise, his form now monstrous, a colossal black greatsword materializing in his right hand, its edges decayed yet terrifyingly sharp. Harbos turned and vanished as the camera shifted to Dark, now engaged with other assassins.
Dark: You fools don't stand a chance against me. I defeated that so-called Harbos, or whatever you call him.
Assassin 1: You? Defeated Harbos? Lord Harbos?
Assassin 2: It's impossible! No mere human could defeat the Emperor's Executioner. He has multiple forms, each more powerful than the last. And if you kill him five times, the beast within him awakens, known as Goudro, The Habitable God.
Dark paused, digesting this revelation.
Dark: When I killed him, he stopped moving. He spoke briefly and then just ceased.
The assassins exchanged horrified glances.
Assassin 3: You killed him five times with a single strike? You surpass all the laws of the Assassin Empire's speed. You might even rival the Emperor.
Dark: (thinking) Who is this Emperor? They speak of him as if he's beyond reality itself. This power and ranking system is still a mystery to me.
Assassin 2: We can't fight you... we'd only die trying.
Dark approached Assassin 2, placing both hands on their shoulders.
Dark: Leave this place. Don't attack me, and I'll let you live.
Assassin 2: But the Emperor forces us... we have no choice.
Dark: Then take me to him.
Assassin 2: That's... a bad idea...
Dark: I couldn't care less.
Assassin 2: Fine. Let's pretend you forced me. I don't want to die.
Dark: No need. Just point me in his direction. I'll find him myself. I could destroy this entire place, but I know there are innocent people here, forced into servitude.
Dark: I can see the cruelty in this place.
Assassin 2 pointed towards the higher ground of the empire.
Dark looked up.
Dark: Ah, of course.
Dark crouched down, taking a runner's stance. He took a deep breath and vanished from the scene, moving with such speed that he was a blur. The camera switched to the sky, zooming in on a building more detailed than the rest. The camera zoomed in on the door, then inside, revealing a throne with a man sitting on it. His spiritual pressure, presence, and aura were overwhelming.
The man's face was completely hidden by a hood, but the hood didn't cover his face; it was as if another shadowy cloak concealed his identity.
Narrator: This is called Double Identity, an ability that an assassin can use to cover their identity with a certain type of magic known as Retsyu De Identité in French, in English called Retsyu From Identity. And Retsyu means coverage or conceal.
Narrator: Retsyu is another set of magic, one of a series of magic classes, rated High SSS Tier.
Narrator: Retsyu is the name of a man who almost matched Cosmic in overall power and strength. Though he was killed by Cosmic.
Returning to the scene outside, Dark kicked down the door, breaking it entirely and sending its broken pieces near the emperor.
The figure slightly lifted his head.
Figure: How fascinating of you.
He stood up, his presence and everything else rising even more, pressuring and overwhelming Dark.
Dark: (thinking) The hell is this pressure...
The figure walked toward Dark in a menacing way, tucking his hands into his pockets.
Figure: You have come this far. Insolent brat.
Figure: You have defeated all of the little pawns and soldiers, yet now...
Without a sound, the figure appeared behind Dark.
Figure: You die.
Dark barely managed to react, trying to turn around quickly, but the figure's foot was already in his face, sending him flying backward, spinning through the air. He landed hard near the throne. The camera moved up slightly, then showed the figure crouching down in front of Dark. Dark tried to raise himself up, but the figure stood up and placed a foot on Dark's back, casually sitting on his throne.
The figure rested his elbow on the armrest of the throne and smirked.
Dark tried to get up again, punching the figure's leg so hard that he removed his foot. The figure's face showed a moment of confusion.
Figure: (thinking) Hmm, even in his current state, he's able to deliver such powerful force. I wonder... did he really kill Goudro? Or Ryu? Ace? Divine Carnage? Eh, no matter.
Dark was pushed back down by the figure's spiritual force and pressure.
Figure: Just give up already, you fool. The longer you stay here, the harder it will be for you to leave. Get the point.
Dark grunted, looking at the figure with a serious face.
Dark: The mask...
Figure: What about it?
Dark: Take it off...
Figure: Why should I?
Dark: Show your face...
Figure: Why?
Dark: At least let me know who you are... if not, then I'll use it as an excuse to actually kill you alongside that Harbogro guy.
Figure: His name was Harbos.
Dark: Sorry, I'm not good with names.
The figure nodded.
Suddenly, without a moment's pause, the figure dashed forward—his form blurring as he moved, faster than instant, beyond anything Dark had ever seen. Time itself seemed to bend around the figure's movement, the air shattering in his wake. Dark's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.
The figure's arm, outstretched, reached forward—mere inches away from Dark's face, the force of his approach sending shockwaves through the air.
Dark's eyes widened, a look of shock and realization flickering across his face.
And then—
End of chapter 15.