Timeless AssassinC351 351: Repairs
Over the next twenty days, Leo entered Castle Bravo again and again.
Every morning, just after the priest vanished into the main tower, he slipped through the same breach in the wall, and made his way across the courtyard and towards the teleportation gate.
Once within the Castle Walls, he did not so much as breathe too loud, as if the sound of oxygen entering his lungs might draw death toward him.
However, no matter how many times he returned to the Castle, the pressure he felt within never faded, as everyday he felt the same ancient corrupted mana coil against his skin like wet ropes….. making his body inevitably sweat buckets, and his knees to turn into jello.
However, despite the pressure, he did manage to creep across the courtyard everyday, moving past the collapsed arches until he reached that weathered ring of stone and glyphs that was his new work station.
Each session, Leo gave himself precisely one hour.
Sixty minutes and not a second more.
As he hid behind a broken pillar, unwrapped his tools with care, and began to work.
On the first day, he spent the entire hour clearing moss.
Not with magic, as he did not dare disrupt the mana around him, but with a dagger and a soft cloth, as he cleared every inch of sickly green growth that pulsed faintly with decayed energy.
It was the mana absorbing kind of moss, the one that could interfere with circuitry if left unchecked, and hence had to be unquestionably removed.
However, the process of removal was not without its problems, as the removed bits often clung to his hands like a parasite, and even after he brushed it off, the itchiness lingered, and a significant chunk of the mana within his body was drained.
The second and third days were spent on rune cleaning.
Lacking proper tools, Leo fashioned a makeshift brush by binding supple tree branches to whittled roots, its bristles coarse but precise.
He dipped it into high-grade mana potions, then gently traced the ancient, corroded lines—each stroke slow, deliberate, and respectful.
Once the outlines were reawakened, he pressed a mana stone against each glyph, coaxing the dormant energy to stir and resume its flow.
Many glyphs had fused or cracked due to corrosion, so he charted them meticulously in his notebook before beginning repairs.
Every curve, every flourish of a rune mattered; one misplaced stroke and the gate might overload the moment it received power again, so he did it with extreme care.
However, the nerve wrecking part wasn't the work…. But rather the not knowing.
He had no idea if the whisper behind him was just his paranoia or death.
No idea if that shift in energy he spotted inside the barracks was the armored guard waking up, or just a random spike.
No idea if that flicker of mana in the air meant detection, or it was just an environmental phenomenon.
And yet… he continued.
He brought out mana stones that he had carried with him from the outside world to serve as replacement array cores, as although he did not have the traditional crystals used to power the structure, the high grade mana crystals theoretically contained more power than the ancient crudely mined crystals, and could serve as a viable replacement.
To test his theory, he reconnected the circuit's from the power board to the command plate, and thankfully he could see the mana flowing through the circuits again, as everything from the power core to the command station began to work smoothly.
—---------
The next step was to repair the command station, and input it with the correct geological code linking it to the exact teleportation centre that he wanted it to move him to, which was a slightly tricky job, considering how his knowledge about this world's language was self taught and not something he was fluent in.
Regardless, by the twelfth day, he managed to successfully re-etch two of the primary coordinate rings, as he cross referenced them to the geological books he had brought with him from within the conclave to make sure that he had calibrated the device correctly.
During his repair work of the central command, he discovered that most of the gate's outer mechanism was still intact but badly imbalanced.
That imbalance had to be corrected slowly, segment by segment, or the reactivation sequence would be turbulent and the structure could collapse.
Hence, starting from the fourteenth day, he began repairing the external structure as best as he could.
He was no stone mason, but he placed stones near the chipped parts of the gate and tied them tight with ropes, hoping to give it enough structural strength to hold strong.
It wasn't the best method for sure, but it was the best he could do, as he worked as methodically as he could to reduce the imbalances to a minimum.
However, with him constantly feeling paranoid for his life while working, whenever he heard even the faintest rustle or screech in his surroundings, he immediately activated [Stormflash Traverse] and bolted, leaving his work at once, and returned to safety at his vantage point.
Often, this affected his work speed, and stalled his progress, but despite the slow work, by the end of the seventeen day, he somehow managed to complete most of the reconstruction, bar for the final part which was entering the third and final coordinate ring.
Each time he came back, the fear he felt in his bones was the same.
He never got used to it.
Never felt comfortable.
Every stone he touched felt like it might explode. Every glyph he activated felt like it might sing to the priest and every step he took inside that courtyard made him feel like a condemned man walking the gallows, waiting for the rope to tighten.
But the gate…
The gate slowly came alive.
Piece by agonizing piece, Leo managed to bring it back from the dead.
And when at the twenty first day, he finally repaired the third and final coordinate ring, he knew that it was time to finally start planning the actual heist, as the escape mechanism was finally ready to be used.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC352 352: Belief
(Time-Stilled World, Castle Bravo Perimeter, Leo's POV)
Once the repair work was done, the most difficult part truly began, which was planning how to carry out the actual heist?
So far, although Leo had scouted the outer courtyard in suffocating detail—mapping every collapsed arch, every inch of stone between his entry point and the teleportation gate—he had not even gotten a peek inside the central structure, which was where he suspected the treasure being kept.
Leo knew that if he wanted even a sliver of hope at completing this mission without dying a gruesome, meaningless death, then he needed to figure out a way to breach that structure and scout its interior.
But every time he so much as looked at it from his perch in the tree, his instincts screamed at him to look away.
He didn't want to go in.
He couldn't go in.
Not while that thing—that robed priest with its faceless mask and silent footsteps—resided within those walls like a sentinel carved from some forgotten nightmare.
He remembered what he'd seen. How even the air shifted when the priest passed. How even beasts stronger than him fled at its approach, tails tucked, claws trembling. And how just being outside the courtyard when it passed made his body feel like it was being slowly crushed by a weight that wasn't physical.
So the idea of voluntarily stepping inside the same structure that creature called home?
It felt suicidal.
A gamble no sane assassin would even entertain.
And yet… as he watched day after day, taking notes, memorizing patterns, sketching maps, and fighting against the creeping sense of dread that coiled tighter around his chest with every sunrise… something changed.
It happened on the twenty-third morning.
He was watching from the tree again, eating cold rations with numb fingers, when the priest exited the building for its usual incense-burning ritual, walking that same unnerving circle around the inner courtyard.
But what caught Leo's eye wasn't the priest—it was what it ignored.
Two Grandmaster-ranked wolves were loitering in the courtyard, pacing too close to the building, one of them even pawing at a broken pillar.
They collapsed into a pool of nerves when the priest walked out, the pressure too suffocating for them to move, as they whimpered and snivelled, and yet… the priest didn't turn.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't react.
It kept walking—slow, methodical, as if the creatures didn't even exist, giving Leo hope that perhaps it too ignored Grandmaster tier beings.
Leo sat up straighter, heart skipping a beat.
"It doesn't register them as a threat," he whispered, eyes narrowing. "Maybe that priest isn't a fighter type ghost."
He held his breath.
A thought clawed its way up from the back of his skull, rising like bile in his throat.
Fifteen minutes.
That was the window.
Fifteen minutes from when the priest exited the structure to begin its ritual, to the moment it returned. Fifteen minutes where the sanctum stood open. Unguarded. Quiet.
Just once.
Just one trip.
In and out.
No touching. No breathing too loud. No Big Risks. No sudden movements.
Just a glance. A survey. A chance to see what was really waiting behind those towering doors, so he could build a real plan—not one crafted from guesswork and desperation.
His hands shook. His breath came shallow.
But he made the decision anyway.
Because if he didn't do this, he might as well call it quits now, as attempting the mission blindly and without a proper plan, was guaranteed to lead to death.
—----------
And so, the next morning, at the precise second the priest vanished through the main gate, Leo leapt from the tree, blinked into the courtyard in a burst of [Stormflash Traverse], and sprinted low—barely daring to breathe—as he slipped through the colossal doorway of Castle Bravo's central tower.
And what he found inside…
Made him forget how to move.
The air struck him first.
Not with heat.
Not with cold.
But with something ancient.
It pressed down on him like liquid lead, seeping into his lungs and bones, wrapping around his heart like an invisible noose.
The scent was thick—like burnt parchment and decayed flowers—and the silence was deafening, the kind that made one's own heartbeat sound like a war drum.
He staggered forward, eyes wide.
And then he saw it.
A church. Or something older.
Circular. Hollow. Lined with faded pillars carved in a language he didn't know.
The walls were inked with black-stained murals of death and rebirth, of worlds crumbling and flames swallowing cities, all centering around one colossal, cracked painting that took up the entire far wall.
Zhanrok.
The two legged lizard god.
His body was cloaked in stone armor.
His hands stretched over a pile of skulls.
His crown broken and his eyes glowing with divine rot.
Beneath that painting stood a simple, unadorned stone table, and atop it… the Origin Metal. Two small pieces.
Not locked. Not sealed.
Just placed there—casual, defiant, humming softly with that same pulse that made Leo's fingertips twitch and his vision blur for a heartbeat.
It did not look like anything special, just two pieces of iron ingot if one was not specifically taught to identify it.
And if Leo had not seen its picture before, it was an object that he wouldn't have been able to recognise either.
In front of the table that contained the origin metal and resting like a centerpiece between treasure and the painting, was the ancient casket.
Long. Gleaming. Etched with gold and blackened glyphs that shimmered with residual power, as just glancing in its direction made Leo feel powerless and dizzy, as he nearly fainted from a glance that did not even last a full two seconds.
'Don't look at it… don't go near it–' His instincts screamed at him, as he moved as far away from it as he could.
He did not touch anything within the room, nor did he cross the floor, as he simply stood at the threshold, memorizing the layout, the position of the table, the number of steps to the exit, the shadows in each corner… all the while trying to calm the thunder thumping loudly in his chest.
Then—when the fifth minute of the fifteen was almost up—he turned, slipped out, and vanished in another silent flicker of teleportations.
As it was only after he collapsed under the roots of his vantage tree, drenched in sweat, with fingers digging into the dirt that he finally allowed himself to breathe again, as he could feel his heart beating out of his chest.
"That was the most dangerous thing I have ever done…." Leo said to himself, as he placed a hand over his thumping heart, trying to calm it down, while breathing in an unsteady rhythm, as his mind recovered from the dizzy fog that it felt ever since he glanced at the casket.
'The resting place of an ancient god….' Leo thought, as he could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, as his fight or flight response was fully activated.
"I can do this…" he finally whispered to himself, admitting what he had been too afraid to admit aloud until now.
His voice was hoarse.
Low.
Almost broken.
"I know what I'm stealing now." He said, more confidently now, as for the first time since entering the Time Stilled World…
He began to believe in his odds to succeed.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC353 353: Final Preperations
(Time-Stilled World, The Perimeter of Castle Bravo, Leo's POV)
Once Leo realized that he could potentially pull this mission off, he turned into a man possessed, as he began obsessing over every little detail of the plan to ensure that it was flawless.
For the next few days, he spent every waking minute shadow-executing the heist in his mind— running through it again and again, until he could visualize it down to the smallest twitch of muscle.
He planned everything, from where exactly he would plant his feet to the precise points where he'd trigger [Stormflash Traverse] to shave off milliseconds of travel time, as he overlooked nothing.
He measured every distance with surgical precision, memorizing how long it took to cross each segment within the courtyard, counting every single step from the breach to the altar and back until the sequence became a mantra, echoing through his dreams.
He timed everything.
Exactly 18 seconds to slip through the outer breach, crawl beneath the archway, and activate the teleportation gate, assuming he didn't stumble or freeze.
Then 12 more to sprint across the courtyard, hug the far-left pillar, and reach the entrance to the altar hall.
Once inside, he assumed that he needed about 10 seconds to grab the Origin Metal.
0.2 seconds to trigger [Storm Flash Traverse].
And another 1.1 seconds to reach the teleportation gate and escape.
The margin of error was nonexistent, because he had no idea whether the priest and the guard would ignore him? Or would they try and stop him once he touched the metal.
As although it took 70 seconds for Zharnok's soul to stir awake, those two were entirely different problems.
One misstep, and it could all be over for him, which was why he needed to time this to heist perfection and leave nothing to chance.
So he did exactly that, and drilled the entire routine into his muscles until thought was no longer required and his limbs could act even if fear hijacked his mind.
He re-memorized the terrain as if it were a sacred scroll.
The loose gravel near the fourth column.
The fractured tile by the teleportation base.
The slightly elevated stone slab near the threshold of the central hall—just high enough to catch a toe and ruin everything.
He catalogued every hazard, every nuance, every inch of that cursed courtyard—so that when the moment finally came, there would be no hesitation, no surprises, no fate left to chance.
As by day 40 of 42, he was absolutely prepared to carry out the plan.
—-----------
(The next day)
One day before the heist, Leo decided to eat like a king.
Not because he wanted to celebrate.
But because deep down… he wasn't sure if he'd still be alive to enjoy food again tomorrow.
He gathered the finest ingredients from his storage ring—sealed packets of smoked meat, half-dried herbs from his supply stash, a rare block of preserved cheese he had been saving for an emergency and began preparing them over a small fire.
He even went as far as to bring out the only mana infused wine bottle that he had brought to this world, the kind that warmed the chest and cleared the mind.
As for the first time since entering the Time-Stilled World, he took his time cooking and not just reheating dry food over a tiny flame or biting into ration blocks between drills.
He set-up an actual campfire, which he put together using slow-burning logs from the dreamwood grove, as he carefully roasted the meat over it, until the edges crisped and the fat sizzled, before adding some sliced roots and crushed herbs for enhanced flavor.
He then plated the meal on a steel tin, sat cross-legged beneath the roots of his vantage tree, and ate slowly— like the taste of the meal actually mattered.
Every bite he took was deliberate. Every chew, thoughtful.
As though his body knew this might be its last supper and wanted to savor the world one final time.
The food warmed him. Steadied his hands.
But it didn't silence the storm in his chest.
Because although Leo was confident in what he'd prepared, and knew he had done everything within his power to set the board in his favor— he also wasn't delusional.
He understood the risks of this mission.
He knew that the margin for error was so slim it might as well not exist.
As he knew that even in the best case scenario, the odds were stacked against him at a 70-30 ratio.
To be fair, it was not a terrible ratio, but it wasn't good enough either, as the chances to fail were still significantly higher than those to succeed.
On one hand, he had memorized every escape vector, trained every motion to perfection, and eliminated every visible flaw from his plan.
While on the other hand, he still did not know if the priest could sense movement once the altar was disturbed, or if the silver armored guardian would awaken once the teleportation gate hummed to life.
As if any of those things happened even a few mili-seconds earlier than expected…
There would be no second chances.
Just a quick trip to the afterlife.
*Sigh*
Leo exhaled slowly through his nose and glanced up at the gray skies above, that looked as washed out, dull, and lifeless as the world around him.
'I'm doing all this just to see you again,' he thought, the memory of his family steady in his mind, as it grounded him in purpose, and reminded him once again that failure was not an option.
*Sip*
He lifted the tin cup of warm mana wine to his lips with a steady hand and drank without hesitation.
"I've done all I can," he whispered into the stillness, letting the words settle into the silence like a quiet promise.
"If I die tomorrow, at least it won't be for a worthless cause."
There was no fear in his voice.
Only resolve.
As when he finally lay back against the cold earth, blade within reach, cloak drawn over his chest like armor rather than comfort, he did not close them as someone fleeing from what lay ahead.
But rather as a man who was ready to face what was to come next.
Because he knew, by the time he woke again, it would be time to steal from a god.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC354 354: The Heist (1)
(The Time-Stilled World, Just Outside Castle Bravo, Leo's POV)
At dawn, Leo watched the priest walk out of the altar room, incense stick in hand, moving with the same eerie precision it had displayed for the past forty-one mornings.
But today, the sight of the priest's white robes made his stomach twist with anxiety.
Because today, that silent figure didn't just mark the beginning of another patrol, but rather marked the start of his mission.
'The priest coming out means it's dawn… that means, I need to start counting down from four and a half minutes—' Leo thought internally, as he jumped off his vantage point and quickly made his way towards the broken hole in the castle wall, where he waited until his internal timer of four and a half minutes ran out.
The rescue plane that the Serpents sent inside the Time-Stilled World arrived every ninety days, exactly five minutes past dawn, staying for a brief two-minute loop before leaving the dimension again.
And Leo aimed to catch the plane coming today in the last ten seconds of that window, when the plane's sensors were still looking for survivors—and when Zhanrok's soul was still seconds away from fully stirring awake.
It was a gamble balanced on a blade's edge.
Aiming for that narrow timing meant maximizing his odds of extraction… but it also meant that any delay, any hesitation, any misstep could render the entire plan meaningless.
If he missed the teleportation gate activation by even three seconds…
If he tripped over a loose stone…
If the Origin Metal took longer to lift than expected…
Then this wouldn't be a rescue.
It would be a suicide.
'Focus.'
Leo took a slow, silent breath, as he crouched low behind the weathered stones of the breach, and shut out the negative thoughts eating away at his mind.
Only the countdown mattered now.
Fifteen seconds left.
He flexed his fingers, rolled his shoulders and reset his breathing.
Ten seconds.
He reached into his utility belt, brushing his hand against the edge of the sheathed dagger, which gave him some courage.
Five.
He got ready to move, as the second the timer turned to zero, his body moved before his thoughts caught up.
As exactly, four minutes and thirty seconds after the priest came out, Leo entered Castle Bravo, exactly like he had planned.
—----------
Leo darted forward, cloak trailing soundlessly behind him, as he slipped through the gap in the wall and surged across the outer corridor, moving low and tight, hugging the ruined masonry for cover as his boots landed exactly where they were meant to—stone to stone, breath to breath.
No deviation. No second thoughts.
His legs moved with mechanical precision, driven not by instinct or panic, but by the sheer weight of repetition drilled into muscle.
Sixteen steps past the broken arch.
Three short bounds to the edge of the inner wall.
And then—
*Click*
He landed beside the ancient console meant to operate the teleportation gate, and began tampering with it, just as he had practiced, his fingers flying faster than thought.
For a single heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then—
*SHROOM*
The teleportation gate flared to life, bathing the corridor in a pale blue glow, its rings pulsing with awakened power for the first time in thousands of years.
'It worked! Holy shit it worked!' Leo thought, as he nervously glanced at the teleportation gate, that was ready to teleport him to the exact coordinates he had input the moment he stepped through it.
However, although he was slightly happy that it worked and was holding stable, he was more worried about the structure coming to life attracting the attention of the priest or the guard, as for a couple breaths time, he waited to see if there was any reaction.
He had already decided, that if he felt like his life was in danger after he activated the teleportation gate, he would immediately bolt and escape this world without completing the heist.
However, even when he fixed the teleportation gate, there seemed to be no reaction from the priest or the silver armored guard, as even after two breaths passed, they did not stir or try to attack him.
'This is it… this was my last chance to bail if anything went wrong. From here on out, I'll either live, or I die—' Leo concluded, as once he realized that he was safe, he immediately began making his way towards the altar room, exactly as planned.
He moved with measured urgency, fast enough to stay on schedule, but quiet enough to remain undetected, as he slipped away from the humming teleportation gate and began weaving through the inner corridor.
His eyes flicked to the path ahead, then to the notches in the stone he'd carved days ago to mark where he needed to place his skill anchors.
'Here' he reminded himself, as with a silent mental command, he set his first [Stormflash Traverse] point into the cracked arch near the second bend, etching it with a single pulse of mana.
One down.
Three to go.
'Breathe slow. Count steps.'
Seven strides to the hollow column.
Another anchor.
Five more past the crumbling arch to the shattered vase embedded in the wall.
Anchor.
Every movement was rehearsed, burned into his nerves like muscle scripture—there was no room for improv, no margin for sloppiness.
And yet, despite the rhythm, the flow, the success of each perfect placement… his chest felt heavier with every step.
Because the closer he got to the altar room, the more nervous he felt, with the pressure from the within the room also intensifying.
The pressure was like a static weight in the air.
A density that clung to his skin and made his breathing feel thinner.
And then—
He arrived at the edge of the threshold.
The entrance to the altar room loomed ahead, veiled in a dim, unnatural glow, as though the chamber beyond obeyed laws different from the rest of the world.
As reaching that point, Leo's pace finally slowed down to a crawl.
He pressed his back to the wall, his heart hammering now—not from exertion, but anticipation.
Sweat beaded across his brow as he peered around the corner… and saw it.
The altar.
The casket.
The mural of Zhanrok towering over it all in haunting silence.
And just below it…
There it was.
The Origin Metal.
Two shimmering blocks resting atop a stone table, looking mundane and unprotected.
'Ten seconds to steal the blocks,' Leo reminded himself, eyes locked on the table like it might vanish if he blinked.
But the moment he stepped across the threshold—
It hit him.
*BOOM*
A weight crushed down on his shoulders, invisible but suffocating, like the atmosphere had suddenly thickened tenfold.
His knees nearly buckled, and his vision swam.
As the air inside the room simply felt… wrong.
'Fuck–' Leo gritted his teeth, as he forced a foot forward.
Then another.
His breath became ragged, his heart rate spiking beyond 200, as each movement he made felt like trudging through a storm that hated his existence.
'Place the marker,' he ordered himself, voice tight in his mind, as he forced his mind to conjure the skill and place yet another [Stormflash Traverse] anchor onto the ground—midway between the entrance and the altar, which was his last and final teleportation point.
This was supposed to be the easy part of the heist.
The part that he had already planned for and rehearsed countless times in his head, however, just completing this part alone, felt so ridiculously difficult to Leo, that he could not even imagine how tough the rest was going to be, as at that point, just staying upright felt like defying the will of God.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC355 355: The Heist (2)
(The Time-Stilled World, Altar Room, Leo's POV)
"Don't look at the casket... don't look at the casket..."
Leo kept mumbling the words inside his head like a broken mantra, as he forced his eyes forward and moved with deliberate steps toward the stone table at the far end of the room, refusing to acknowledge the looming sarcophagus that lay between him and his target.
He knew that nothing good would come from him turning his gaze towards Zharnok's casket, or his painted mural, and hence he mentally forbade himself from even looking there.
*Step*
*Step*
Step after step, he inched closer to the table, despite the mounting psychological pressure.
However, the moment his boots crossed the invisible line that placed the casket in his peripheral vision, Leo felt his vision double, his mind go blank, and his legs nearly give out beneath him, as though some unspoken pressure had curled its fingers around his skull and had begun to slowly squeeze him.
His eyelids drooped, feeling unnaturally heavy, and the struggle to stay conscious turned even more intense, as his eyes simply refused to co-operate with his will anymore.
'No you don't! You can't sleep yet! Not till you're safely out of this world—' Leo reminded himself, as he grit his teeth and pushed through on sheer willpower alone.
He stumbled forward, half dragged, half propelled by sheer will, as he managed to make his way to the stone table with a couple seconds left to spare.
'This is it, I hope they're not unexpectedly heavier than they look—' Leo prayed as he reached out to pick up the two blocks of origin metal, only for a scream to involuntarily escape his lungs, the second he touched them.
"ARGHHHHH—!"
He nearly dropped them right then and there, as a blinding pain erupted through both palms, searing his nerves like the metal had been forged in the heart of the sun.
It felt hotter than molten lava, as despite looking mundane and unassuming, its surface temperature was as hot as red hot iron, even though it did not radiate any heat to its surroundings.
A normal man would have dropped the blocks the second they touched them, however, Leo did not let go.
Pushing through the pain, he gripped the blocks of metal hard, as despite the mind numbingly hot objects tearing into his flesh, he activated [Stormflash Traverse] and instantly vanished from the altar room in a blur of blue lightning.
Yet just as he escaped, just as his previous anchor point flared beneath his boots and he vanished in a blur of motion, the world around him responded to the theft—not with noise or light, but with gravity, like an invisible force collapsing inward, folding time and weight around him in a slow, inevitable crush
Because that was when the casket began to tremble.
And the pressure in the air, which had already felt like a dense fog pressing against his skin, suddenly surged to monstrous levels, growing so heavy, so suffocatingly thick, that it felt like a mountain had been slammed onto his back, flattening his lungs and crushing the strength from his bones.
The soul of Zhanrok was stirring in response to its treasure being stolen, and the sheer aura it exuded was impossible for Leo to bear even for a single breath.
*TREMBLE*
The altar chamber, once dim and unmoving, now pulsed with something ancient and malevolent, as Leo felt a dreadful awareness crawling into his spine and burrowing into his thoughts, as it threatened to choke the breath from his throat with nothing but presence alone.
[Parallel Processing].
He triggered it with gritted teeth, and at once, the chaos slowed, as his vision stretched, his heartbeat fragmented into smaller, more measurable fragments, and his mind began dividing the incoming flood of information into parallel threads, each one trying to keep him alive.
His second teleportation point came into view the moment he rematerialized, right beside the cracked archway which was the entry point into the altar, where his instincts screamed at him to move again—because from the periphery of his sharpened vision, he caught a flicker of dangerous motion.
The priest.
It was no longer still.
Its faceless mask now glowed with ghostly violet light, its eyes burning through the fabric of the world like cold fire, as it gazed towards Leo with sheer unbridled fury.
The incense stick it once held had been replaced by a divine sword now, that glowed with blood-red runes dripping with killing intent.
And it was chasing him.
No—not chasing. Gaining.
Leo teleported again, and looked back again, only to realize with rising horror that the priest, despite merely running while he was teleporting, had already halved the gap between them.
'No. No. That's not possible. He's not supposed to be that fast—'
He realized, horror gripping every cell in his body, as he activated [Stormflash Traverse] again, slamming unbelievable amounts of mana into the next checkpoint with reckless speed, as he teleported forward in a blur of light, now reaching halfway across the open corridor.
'Can I make it?' he wondered, as he could feel the ghost gaining on him, however he only had a short distance left to reach safety.
By now his hands were trembling.
His breathing wasn't regulated anymore. His chest rose and fell in short, panicked bursts, and his thoughts—though split and clear—were repeating themselves, looping with dread.
'This will be close.'
He pushed off again, stumbling slightly before stabilizing mid-step, as his eyes locked forward—because just ahead, maybe twenty meters at most, was the teleportation gate he had activated earlier.
It pulsed with pale blue light, shimmering with barely-contained energy, as it gave him hope to escape from this cursed castle at once.
He needed one last jump. One last breath to reach it.
But then—he saw it.
To the right.
Standing not even 40 meters away, like a statue born of war and metal, was the Silver Armored Guard.
It already had its blade half-drawn, its posture coiled and perfect, like a killing machine awakened to exterminate a mischievous rat.
Its intent was so sharp that it sliced the air around it without moving, as just looking at it, Leo couldn't help but feel like—
'It's over.'
That was the thought that came unbidden, uninvited, before he forced it out.
'No. Not yet. Don't think like that. Move.'
He told himself, but his legs didn't respond as sharply now. His body was lagging by fractions of a second—fractions that mattered.
Because the pressure he felt boring down on him from all directions was no longer something that he could simply shrug off.
Behind him—the priest with the divine sword was closing the distance between them impossibly fast.
To his right—the guard, poised to strike, was on the verge of unleashing his attack.
And behind it all, like a suffocating curtain of malevolence, Zharnok's soul was rising, and with it, so was the pressure in the corridor, until the walls and the ground below his feet itself began to tremble.
He was running out of time.
He was running out of space.
And even though the gate was just ahead—so close that he could almost feel the dimensional energy tugging at his skin—the seconds left before impact, before interception, before annihilation—
Felt both too long.
And not long enough.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC356 356: The Heist (3)
(The Time-Stilled World, Corridor Outside the Altar Room, Leo's POV)
'Just twenty more meters—'
Leo gritted his teeth as he triggered [Stormflash Traverse] one final time, hurling himself forward with everything he had left.
His muscles screamed in protest, each fiber tearing at the seams, while his lungs struggled to draw in even a sliver of air, as though the atmosphere itself had thickened into tar.
Every nerve in his body burned—not just from the physical pain, but from the invisible weight pressing down on him, from the suffocating presence of death that lurked behind him, reaching closer with every heartbeat, with every flicker of hesitation he couldn't afford.
He didn't dare look back.
Didn't dare flinch.
Didn't even breathe.
Because he knew—
Hesitation meant death, and every microsecond mattered now.
He could feel it in his bones….. the priest's cursed blade was already in motion, humming with divine wrath as it thrust forward with precision, aiming to impale his heart from his back.
While to his right, the Silver Armored Guard had already released the all powerful sword slash.
The same one that had annihilated that transcendent tier spectre in a heartbeat.
The one that seemed to be a domain skill rather than just a simple attack.
As he could feel both those attacks closing in on him at once.
*Reappear*
As he reappeared from the last teleportation step, the gate was right there before him.
Not even a meter away, as he took the last step and dived headfirst towards it, jumping in with all the momentum he had left.
0.9 meters
0.7
0.5
His heart pounded so loudly now that it felt like it echoed through his bones.
As at this instant he could feel it.
He could feel the pressure of the sword slash that was almost upon him, and the tip of the sword thrust that had almost touched the fabric of his robes.
As at that instant, death seemed all but inevitable.
Until, in that exact instant, everything suddenly blurred.
As the moment the distance between him and the teleportation gate was reduced to 0.2 meters…. The gate began to pull at his body.
Reality twisted.
The world shattered.
And Leo was no longer there.
A flash of blue engulfed him, the portal swallowing his figure whole in a blink so exact, so impossibly precise, that had he been slower by even 0.01 seconds, the sword would have split his skull and the priest's blade would have pierced his heart in the same breath.
But he timed it.
He actually timed it.
To perfection.
And as his body dissolved into the currents of dimensional energy, flung between space with the origin metal still clutched firmly in his bleeding hands— Leo finally managed to escape Castle Bravo.
Barely.
But still alive.
—---------
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Not the silence of peace, but the silence of absence, as the sound of the ground and the trembling castle walls was replaced by the steady beat of his heart thrumming against his ears.
*SHUA*
His body floated through the teleportation gate like a weightless feather, as the crushing pressure that he felt just a moment ago, vanished suddenly, and was replaced by a sense of achievement and relief.
For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no threat, no sword, no pressure enveloping him, as he could finally breathe steadily again.
But that relief unfortunately lasted only for a single breath.
Because the second breath that followed came with a twist in his gut, as his mind snapped back to reality and reminded him—
'It's not over.'
His stomach lurched with sudden dread, even as the last shreds of dimensional static peeled off his body. Because though he had escaped the Castle Bravo, he wasn't free yet—not even close.
He was set to reappear just under half a mile away from the pickup zone.
And he had exactly forty seconds left to make it to the plane and board it now.
—--------
(The Wastelands Below The Exit Portal, Just East Of The Extraction Zone)
*Flicker*
Leo's boots hit the cracked, barren earth as he tumbled out of the rift like a cannonball, momentum carrying him forward as he crashed onto one knee with dirt exploding beneath him.
But even before the dust could settle—he heard it.
*Wheeeeeeeeooooo—*
The roar of jet engines, distant but present. As he felt equal parts relieved and equal parts anxious to hear it.
'Still here—thank the gods—' Leo thought, his eyes darting toward the sound, just in time to catch a glimpse of the massive dark-gray jet, parked just above some five hundred meters away, its ramp still lowered as survivors sprinted toward it in ragged clusters.
"WAITTT—!"
"WAIT FOR ME!!"
He screamed, his voice sounding raw and torn as it came out from his throat, as he launched himself across the dry cracked land, the wind screaming past his ears as he accelerated to his top speed.
*ZHOOP*
His legs moved with a desperation that defied physics, mana bursting out from every circuit in his body as adrenaline flooded his system and drowned out the mental fatigue.
His skin burned. His bones groaned. His palms, still seared from the burn that the origin metal had given him, But Leo didn't stop.
He continued running, as he slid the origin metal blocks into his spatial pouch, and closed his fists to accelerate faster.
*Shrrooooooo—*
The engines flared louder now, their pitch rising as the vehicle powered to take off, the blast of wind nearly knocking the last survivor off his feet as the ramp began to tilt upward.
But Leo didn't slow.
He sprinted with everything he had.
Ten meters—
Five—
He dove.
*THUD!*
He slammed into the floor of the craft just before the ramp sealed shut, his body skidding slightly on the metal floor as the jet began to lift.
"The hell?"
His arrival startled the passengers already seated, a few gasping in shock at the sudden impact as his blood-streaked form slid into view like a missile.
But Leo didn't have time for stares.
"GO!" he roared at the pilot, voice breaking as he slapped his hand against the wall, his other hand pointing out the window in sheer panic. "GO! FUCKING TAKE OFF NOW!"
The pilot blinked—just once—then shoved the throttle forward.
The twin jet engines roared with full thrust, and the ship began to ascend, tilting to escape the crumbling time-stilled world beneath them.
Leo turned to the window, his heart pounding against his ribs, as he stared out into the distance with bloodshot eyes, praying that they moved fast enough to escape.
Because by his count, it had been exactly 44 seconds since he touched the origin metal.
Which meant there were only 26 seconds left for him to escape this world.
Twenty-six seconds to escape an angry God that had already begun to wake up.
Twenty-six seconds to live and succeed or to die and be destroyed.
As although Leo had no idea if it was going to be enough or not.
Internally he prayed that it was—
Because at this point, he had truly done all he could to make the plan a success, and it would be a shame to fail after coming this close.
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Timeless AssassinC357 357: Hope
(Inside the Jet, Ascending from the Time-Stilled World, Leo's POV)
Once inside the jet, Leo did not take a seat.
He couldn't.
Instead, he simply stood at the jet's window, fingers clawed around the back of the seat in front of him, knuckles white, shoulders hunched forward as he pressed his forehead against the cold pane, watching—waiting—as the scenery below began to blur into rapid ascent.
47… 48… 49…
The numbers echoed in his skull like war drums, not loud but persistent, each tick a hammer to the nerves threading through his spine.
The jet roared louder now, engines straining, tilting the aircraft sharply as it climbed toward the exit portal…. towards freedom….
And yet Leo didn't feel free. Not yet.
56… 57… 58…
The g-force slammed the rest of the passengers back into their seats, some groaning from the pressure, some gripping their harnesses with pale, trembling hands, but not Leo.
Leo stayed standing, legs braced, hands trembling from exhaustion as he held on with everything he had left, the strain in his forearms a whisper compared to the weight pressing on his mind.
'Come on… come on… just a little more—'
He whispered it like a prayer, like a mantra, as his gray eyes refused to blink, refused to leave the window. As if him looking away would change the odds of his survival.
65… 66… 67…
It was at this point that he finally saw it.
A shadow spreading far faster than anything natural, devouring the world below like spilled ink, as the already dim skies turned pitch black, darker than night, darker than death itself—as if the God they'd stolen from had finally opened its eyes.
*Lub… dub*
*Lub… dub*
*Lub… dub*
The sound of his heartbeat grew louder in his ears, louder than the engines, louder than reason, louder than fear—until all he could hear was that horrible, suffocating rhythm pounding through his veins.
And still the darkness rose.
Closer. Closer.
His throat was dry. His lungs wouldn't move.
He couldn't even scream.
He could only watch, eyes wide, lips parted, as the edge of that abyss raced toward them.
"Hey guys, is anyone else seeing this? Why is a dark shadow engulfing the entire world below us?" One of the other passengers asked worriedly, as his question drew the gazes of many towards the window pane, only for their view to be abruptly cut off when the jet approached the exit portal threshold.
*Shift*
Once the jet reached the exit threshold, the edges of the world below began to ripple, the gray haze beneath them peeling away like discarded skin, replaced not by light, but by the familiar, endless black of space.
The teleportation boundary.
They'd crossed it.
The jet lurched one final time as the realm below severed its grip, hurling them into interdimensional airspace, out of reach, if only just.
'I did it…. I actually did it—' Leo thought, as although he did not collapse into a puddle, his fingers did slip slightly from the seat, muscles no longer able to hold.
He exhaled. Once. Twice.
Then finally slumped into the chair behind him.
He didn't need to count anymore, but he did so anyway.
69.4 seconds.
Give or take.
That's what it had taken from the moment his fingers touched the cursed blocks of Origin Metal to the second they'd broken free from that world.
Just a little over a minute.
But it had felt like an eternity.
Like the longest and most stressful seventy seconds of his entire fucking life.
And yet, somehow… he had survived.
Somehow, 'TheBoss' had prevailed yet again.
—-----------
Leo stared blankly through the window, the abyss outside now calm, cold, and lifeless, utterly indifferent to the storm he had just barely escaped.
And then…..
He laughed.
At first, it was a quiet sound, a breathless puff of disbelief, like a dying man coughing out seawater after crawling onto the shore.
But then it grew.
"Haha… ha… ha—HAHAHAHA!"
The sound escaped his lips like a crack in his sanity had burst open, as if the sheer pressure of surviving something that no one was supposed to walk away from had finally snapped something loose inside him.
He tilted his head back, laughter pouring out of him like blood from a slit artery, as his body shook with each wheezing breath, pain forgotten in the wave of absurd, elated hysteria that washed over him.
A few passengers turned.
Then a few more.
Brows furrowed. Eyes wary. One man even reached to unclip his belt, just in case.
"The hell's wrong with him…?"
"Was he infected by the taint?"
"I—I think the world below scrambled his brain…"
But Leo didn't care.
He didn't even hear them.
He just kept laughing like a madman, one hand slapping his own forehead over and over again, chuckling through gritted teeth as the enormity of what he had just pulled off finally hit him.
"Ah—Ouch… shit—Ouch…" he hissed, as the adrenaline finally began to fade, the world slowly sharpening again around him as sensation returned—first to his spine, then to his arms, and finally to his hands.
That's when he saw them.
His palms.
Seared.
Bleeding.
Branded.
Two ancient symbols had been scorched into his flesh like molten iron, their edges raw and blackened, steam still rising faintly from where the blood mixed with the arcane burn.
And Leo recognized the text instantly.
'THIEF.'
He didn't need a translator to tell him what it was. He knew the language of the ancients and he knew what it meant.
"…So the heat wasn't just from the metal…" Leo whispered, his voice low now, his lips twitching in a smile that was somewhere between awe and dread.
It was a curse. A mark. A branding spell left by Zhanrok himself—so that no matter who stole the origin metal, they would never be able to hide.
'Fuck… if I was still in that world… this mark would have made sure there was nowhere left to run—no crevice dark enough, no cave deep enough, no spell strong enough to mask me.'
It was a death sentence.
Delayed only by distance.
He winced, sucking in a breath through his teeth as he wiped the blood from his palms with the edge of his coat, watching how the symbols glowed faintly, as if still alive—still watching.
But he didn't flinch.
He reached into his storage ring with practiced ease, and pulled out a healing potion, uncorking it with his teeth and gulping it down in one go, the smooth taste refreshing him.
*Glug*
*Gulp*
The blue aura of joy and relief, pulsed from within him, at this moment, as he truly felt the happiest and most accomplished he had ever felt in a long time, right at this moment.
'I did it! I am the fucking man!' He told himself, as he relaxed his back and steadied his breathing.
Then, in that single, suspended moment where no one was trying to kill him, where he wasn't bleeding from a dozen places, where he wasn't calculating his odds of survival every second—
Leo smiled.
Truly smiled.
Because against all odds… he'd done it.
He had stolen from a God.
He had broken through a time-frozen fortress.
He had lived.
And that meant only one thing—
He was one step closer.
One step closer to reuniting with his family.
One step closer to getting his old life back together.
'Ha… hahaha…' he chuckled internally, as this time the laughter did not originate from madness, but rather hope.
Hope for a better future.
Hope, that made the blue aura around him burn brighter than the sun.
---------- xxxx -----------
End of volume 3.
---------- xxxx -----------
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 358 358: The Dragon's LegacyTimeless AssassinChapter 358 358: The Dragon's LegacyTimeless Assassin, Volume 4
The Dragon's Legacy
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
In the age before records, before Empires and a universal common language, there existed only the Prime Forges, planets where raw mana bloomed, and the rules of reality bent easily under claw and flame.
And among the horrors that ruled these early stars, none were feared more than Moltherak—the Devourer of Suns, the Destroyer of Galaxies, and the one the old ones called the First Flame.
He was one of the first twelve beast gods.
A force to be reckoned with.
A will born of fire and destruction, whose wings eclipsed moons and whose breath reduced thriving planets into barren wastelands of scorched stone and bone dust.
Over three hundred inhabited worlds fell under his shadow in a single year when he went on his mad rampage.
And from his terrible spine, a thousand eggs hatched— his children. Dragons. All of them cruel. All of them immeasurably powerful.
They spread across the galaxies like locusts, fighting, killing, corrupting, ruling with talons soaked in the blood of billions.
Not one of them showed mercy.
Not one of them knew compassion.
Until the day a single human said no.
That human was Thalan Rioros, the First King of Ixtal, a mortal born in the ash years, when the universe had forgotten what peace even looked like.
He did not wield divine power.
He did not ride a mythical beast.
He was not chosen by rival gods or fate or prophecy.
He was just a man.
But he was a man who killed a god's son.
The 204th child of Moltherak, Sitharion the Red Death, came to Ixtal with fire in his lungs and hunger in his eyes.
But he did not leave.
Thalan challenged him alone.
Not for power.
Not for glory.
But to protect his people.
And somehow, someway, he won.
The skies of Ixtal were lit with Sitharion's dying breath, and the whole universe changed that day.
For what started with a single act of rebellion.
A single death of one of the god spawns, ended years later, when all twelve ancient beast gods were defeated and their souls banished.
When the common people started to call Thalan the 'Dragon Slayer', the human king only smiled and said—
"Tyrants can never be Dragons.
A Dragon is a noble creature.
One who hunts only what he must to survive,
And guards the world he lives upon.
Moltherak and his kin are not Dragons.
They are beasts. Maddened by power. Nothing more."
"I am hence not a Dragon Slayer, I'm just a man standing up to Evil, like any true Dragon would,"
His words spread across the lands like a healing wind.
And slowly, the word 'Dragon', that was once spoken only in fear, became a symbol of something else.
Hope.
The people began calling him the Dragon King.
Not because he was part dragon.
But because he defied them.
Because he was something better.
As his name and legacy became forever ingrained in Ixtal's memory.
—-------
Many centuries later, when the Cult of Ascension was first established in Ixtal, its founder chose not to worship Moltherak…
but to honor Thalan's spirit, taking on the title of 'Dragon' not as a claim to power…
but as a promise.
A promise to rule the sect as the noble beast that Thalan described.
To only take as much as they needed, and to protect the land they were born on.
And so, the title of 'Dragon' became inspirational for the believers of the Cult, who over the years added many cultural and religious beliefs to the word.
In the modern day, the Cult names the candidates that can carry the legacy of the 'Timeless Assassin' as 'Dragon'.
However, traditionally, it was a title meant for the sect's patriarch.
And its historic origin means 'A leader who brings hope'.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
> — Excerpt from "The Origin of the Dragon: Sacred Histories of the Cult of Ascension,"
Transcribed and Preserved by Loremaster Ryn Vek, 3rd hallmaster of Ixtal, Year 0004
**************
(Meanwhile, Planet Juxta, First night of the Siege)
The lights were off in the city of Greymount.
Street lamps lay dormant like hollow bones, windows wore blackout sheaths, and even the glowpanels of the rich had gone dead.
On Juxta, under siege from the Righteous Faction's orbital fleet, it was forbidden for any home to show light bright enough to be seen from space.
So they returned to older things, like oil lamps, and glowstones, whose glow was bright enough to see, but not enough to shine.
"No mother…. I don't want to go to sleep! I want to go fight the war with my father!" An innocent child, no older than six, complained in a common house, as his mother lovingly stroked his head and tried to convince him to sleep.
"You can't go to war yet, Terry, you're too tiny to fight.
If you want to go to war, you must eat well, sleep lots and grow up to become big and strong, only then will I let you go—" The mother replied, pulling the blanket over her son's chin as she tried to coax him to sleep.
"Mother…" he whispered, his voice heavier now. "If we had found the next Dragon… would we still be scared of the Righteous Faction?"
He asked innocently, as at his question, his mother stilled, just for a breath.
Then she smiled again, and pulled the blanket tighter.
"No, little Terry," she said softly. "If the Dragon had risen… this war would already be over."
The boy blinked, uncertain. "But why?"
"Because the Dragon is not a soldier," she said. "He is a storm. And storms don't fight— they wash things away."
The child's gaze flicked to the flame of the only oil lamp in the room.
"Do you think he will rise again soon?" he asked. "The Next Dragon?"
"I do," she answered without hesitation. "I believe in him with every breath I take."
"Your father is unlucky to be born in a time where he could neither serve Lord Noah, because he was too young back when the Lord died.
And will likely be too old to serve the next Dragon, whoever that is.
But you, young Terry, you might be fortunate enough to join the Next Dragon's army–" She said with pride, as she stroked her son's head.
"We the Astrids have always supported the Dragon. It runs in our blood, and I know that someday you will do so too." The mother said with finality, as her son smiled and closed his eyes.
"The next Dragon, do you think he would want someone like me in his army?" The kid asked, as his mother chuckled at the question, her eyes moist.
"I think," she whispered, "If you eat well and grow tall and strong, he might just recruit you personally, young Terry."
He yawned.
"I will serve the next Dragon mother, I will make our family proud when I grow up."
She kissed his forehead.
"I know you will, my boy…. I know you will. You're a believer, just like your father and his father before him." she said, a soft smile breaking her lips, as she finally watched him drift asleep.
Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 359 359: A more careful LeoTimeless AssassinChapter 359 359: A more careful Leo(Twin Fang Planet, Outer Housing Ring, Leo's Apartment, One Day Later)
After returning to Twin-Fang Planet, Leo did not rush to report the success of his mission. Instead, he made his way straight to his apartment, choosing to isolate himself from the outside world in order to sit down and truly think things through.
His time in the Time-Stilled World had been enlightening in many ways, but if there was one lesson that had etched itself deepest into his bones, it was to trust his own gut, even when what it said seemed to be far fetched or unlikely to be true.
His instincts, sharpened by years of survival and forged through countless battles, was often more reliable than any logic or instruction manual ever could be, and currently it raised some important questions that he never thought about before.
'Why do the Black Serpents want the origin metal?'
'What makes it so valuable that Zhanrok, a being dead for thousands of years, still stirs at the mere thought of it being stolen?'
The questions burned in his mind as he walked through the quieter lanes of the Outer Ring, back towards his apartment.
*Thud*
*FSSHHH—*
The first thing he did after closing the door behind him was take a long, scalding shower.
The steaming water spilled over his tense muscles, tracing the remnants of bruises and shallow cuts, cleansing the dirt and the lingering taint of the Time-Stilled World, as it allowed him to feel fresher once that awful smell of stink finally washed off his body.
And yet, even within the comfort of a hot shower, Leo clung to his paranoia.
His spatial ring and pouch, both remained strapped to him the entire time, as he did not let them out of sight even for a second, even within the locked walls of his own apartment.
Once he stepped out, body clean but mind burdened, he pulled on a pair of dark training slacks and dropped onto the edge of his soft, high-density mattress, the bed dipping slightly under his weight, as his mind kicked into full gear.
"Well, I can't take too long to report the mission's success. Delaying would only raise questions and might make me look suspicious."
His brows furrowed as he rested his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled in front of him.
If he took too long to report the mission's success, the higher ups could get suspicious of him and might try to silence him through underhanded tactics, as when items of such value were involved, it was not unusual to be backstabbed.
He needed to have a full-proof story, and for that to happen, he needed to report the success of the mission within a few hours of his return, giving him very little time to think about other moves.
"Giving up something that could be worth more than the gold they're offering... would be a stupid choice….. Instinct tells me that this metal block might be worth a hell of a lot more than the 6.5 billion they're offering…."
His eyes drifted toward the satchel sitting near the foot of the bed.
"But what if I only gave half? What if I handed over one of the two ingots I recovered? The mission brief only asked me to retrieve 'origin metal'. It never specified a quantity."
The idea settled in his chest like a stone, and slowly, that weight became stability.
"If I can receive the same reward by offering just one block... while keeping the other to investigate later... why shouldn't I?"
The logic felt sound and harmless enough, as after thinking about it some more, Leo decided to hand over half the metal and report the success of the mission, while keeping the second half for himself to research its value later.
"If I trusted the Cult, maybe I'd hand over the metal to them and ask them to reward me fairly," he muttered, leaning back, voice dripping with quiet cynicism. "But I don't trust them."
His jaw tightened at the thought.
"The bastards have tried to kill me twice now."
His memories spiraled back. The attempt at the Grand Arena. The ambush by Karl inside the Time-Stilled World. Two separate operatives from the same so-called organization of 'higher ascension' had tried to end his life—and he had no intention of forgiving that.
Whether they had known who he truly was didn't matter.
The simple fact that it happened—twice—was enough to cast deep shadows over the Cult's structure.
If they couldn't even coordinate internally to protect their own asset, then what hope did they have in the greater scheme of things?
If the one grooming him had to keep his identity hidden from the other higher-ups, then that alone revealed a terrifying truth.
The Cult of Ascension was not a unified organisation.
It was fractured.
And Leo had no intention of blindly putting his faith into something that couldn't even manage its own internal feuds.
"Yes…. I think that the best course of action is to not contact the Cult for now.
I'll contact Faye after I've reported the success of this mission to the Black Serpents and secured my opportunity to enter their Treasure Vault." Leo concluded, as he put on a fresh pair of guild robes and headed out.
But not directly towards the missions center, as he went to the merchants district first.
—-----------
(Twin Fang Planet, Merchants District, Orange Panthers Store)
The Panthers Store Branch Shopkeeper was overjoyed to meet Leo when he walked into the store, as he smiled brightly and rushed towards the door to greet him near the entrance.
"Mr.Skyshard! You're alive and well…. I am most relieved—" The shopkeeper said, as he gestured for Leo to enter the store with a big smile on his face.
"We were all very worried when we found out that an Evil Cult operative had snuck into your team. But I'm glad to see that you're okay!" The shopkeeper said, as Leo's eyes widened in surprise as to how common the news of Karl's real identity was on Twin Fang Planet.
"Yes I was lucky to survive the Cult Bastard…." Leo replied nonchalantly, as the shopkeeper nodded and rubbed his palms in delight.
"Your streak of goodluck continues Mr.Skyshard, because as promised, I not only negotiated a sale price of 50 million for your formula! But I also went on and negotiated your royalty split, increasing it from 10 to 15% on all future sales!" The shopkeeper said proudly, as Leo quietly nodded in approval.
"Well done. You have truly earned your commission on this deal, as well as the extra one percent I promised you on top," Leo said with a soft smile, as the shopkeeper humbly bowed in acceptance, before passing over to him the signed papers of his new agreement.
Leo gave the papers a once over, before storing them below his arm pit, as he leaned over and asked the shopkeeper a question in a hushed tone.
"Say I want to send something securely over the galaxy.
Something like the original formula to this poison, so that in case someday I die abruptly due to a money related dispute, the poison formula can still be held by my confidants, how would I do it?" He inquired, as the shopkeeper's eyes widened in surprise, but he did not look too aghast.
"I see you're a very careful man, Mr Skyshard, I can respect that.
Well in that case, I would go to the United Carrier services and tell them to discreetly deliver a package.
Which I would submit well sealed.
They are known for their professionalism and will deliver it at the fastest speed" The shopkeeper advised as Leo nodded and thanked him before leaving the store.
—-------
He went to the United Carriers Store next, where he mailed one of the two origin metal ingots, alongside a blank cheque for 10 million MP, to a certain 'Chaosbringer' on planet Terra Nova.
Knowing full well, that if there was one man that could keep it safe with his wits and glib tongue.
It was that man.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC360 360: Reporting Completion
(Twin Fang Planet, Merchants District, 45 Minutes Later)
After leaving the United Carriers store, Leo walked into a modest-looking item shop next, that was tucked between a weapons boutique and a mana accessories outlet.
The walls inside were lined with gear for both rookie assassins and seasoned killers, such as boots that nullified footsteps, protective bracelets that could deflect low-grade spells, and masks designed to blur facial features.
Leo's eyes settled on a plain black concealment mask near the center shelf.
It had no design, no flair, just a matte, contoured surface with a smooth texture and a built-in mana dampener that would interfere with facial recognition attempts.
"How much?" he asked the shopkeeper.
"Thirty-two thousand MP," the woman replied, not bothering to pitch it, as the item pretty much sold itself.
Leo paid without haggling, then turned around and slid the mask onto his face just as he stepped outside, as being the cautious man that he now was, he knew better than to walk into the missions hall to claim his 6.5 billion MP reward while openly displaying his face.
—-----------
(Twin Fang Planet, Black Serpents Guild Missions Hall)
The Mission Hall bustled with activity as usual, with there being a sizable crowd gathered just underneath the mission postings wall, as they searched for that next lucrative mission to accept.
Assassins of every kind and speciality moved about in cliques, their dark robes brushing past one another, the energy tense but disciplined.
As Leo walked silently between them.
He made no announcement, no declaration. Instead, his masked figure strolled directly to the center of the hall, where the towering golden plaque still hung untouched on the main board.
It shimmered faintly in the artificial lighting, radiating an aura of importance—this was no standard assignment. This was the crown jewel of all the current listings.
Without a word, Leo reached out and pulled it down.
The clang of metal echoed through the hall like a thunderclap. Conversations halted. Heads turned. In seconds, the idle murmur turned into a low roar.
"Wait… did he just take the Golden Plaq?"
"That's the mission from the Time-Stilled World! The one that Garry said was suicidal to attempt !"
"Who is that guy?"
"Is he alone? Where's his team?"
"Hey buddy, you know you can only take it down if the mission's complete, right?"
The wave of voices rose quickly as more assassins gathered, their curiosity mingled with disbelief. Some looked shocked. Others were already suspicious. But Leo ignored all of it.
He didn't slow his pace.
He walked with a calm certainty through the noise and straight to the clerk's desk, where without hesitation, he placed the plaque on the table, and peered straight into the clerks' surprised eyes.
"I have completed the mission," he said in a voice muffled slightly by the mask. "You can verify it in a private room, after which I want to discuss my rewards."
The clerk, a young woman who had clearly not expected this kind of chaos during her shift, blinked at him in horror.
Her eyes darted to the golden plaque. Then to Leo. Then back again.
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the communication crystal on her desk and raised it to her mouth.
"H-Head Supervisor," she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady. "We have a situation… A masked man just submitted the golden mission plaque for verification. Says it's completed. He's requesting immediate processing."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Yes… that mission. The one from the Time-Stilled World."
Leo said nothing as she continued to talk, his stance unmoving, his gaze sharp behind the blackened mask, as the crowd behind him continued to buzz with feverish speculation.
"No seriously, who is that guy? He's clearly no stronger than a Grandmaster…. Did he really complete the mission?"
"Why is he hiding his identity if he really completed the mission? Does he not want the glory for completing it?"
"He's probably hiding his identity because he's not a complete idiot.
Imagine showing your face to a room full of killers who now know that you're richer than the Vice Guildmaster, but don't have the strength to protect that wealth.
He's smart….I'll give him that, but I still doubt that he really completed the mission—"
The people behind him muttered, as soon a breathless supervisor stumbled into the room, sweat beads rolling down his forehead.
"Sir, are you the one who completed the mission?" He asked, his voice laced with disbelief, as Leo merely nodded in acknowledgement.
"Please follow me… the Vice Guildmaster has requested to see you in his office," He said, as Leo jumped over the clerks counter and joined the supervisor behind it, before gesturing to him to lead the way.
—--------------
The supervisor nervously led Leo to the headquarters building of the guild, where he put him on a private lift that ascended swiftly through the central shaft before halting at the 65th floor—right outside the Vice Guildmaster's office.
"I hope I did not cause you any significant delay or inconvenience," he said before giving Leo a shallow bow, as he hastily excused himself, the doors of the elevator closing behind him with a faint hiss.
*Music*
Leo listened to some elevator music for a few seconds, until a *ding* sound announced his arrival at the desired floor.
*Hiss*
As the lift door slid open once more, Leo instinctively straightened his posture—only to be met by the intense gaze of none other than Vice Guildmaster Antonio, who stood right at the threshold of the elevator opening, with his arms folded and a single eyebrow raised in suspicion.
Leo's heart skipped a beat.
For a brief second, it felt as if his mask was paper-thin, as if the concealment enchantments and mana dampening runes did absolutely nothing against the man's sharp gaze, as Antonio's presence radiated an authority that left no room for pretense or façade.
And just as Leo feared, it became clear that the disguise had served no purpose, when Antonio finally opened his mouth, as the first words he spoke made it evident as to how useless his disguise was against beings of Antonio's level.
"I was wondering which youngling had managed to complete the mission," Antonio said, his voice calm but laced with a hint of authority. "But if it's the Circuit Champion Leo Skyshard… then it's believable."
Leo exhaled through his nose and smiled dryly beneath the mask, before pulling it off with one hand and storing it in his spatial ring in one smooth motion.
"Pardon my caution, I'm a low profile guy," he muttered, stepping off the lift and into the Vice Guildmaster's office.
Antonio nodded and turned around without further comment, his long black coat fluttering slightly as he walked toward his expansive desk at the far end of the room.
"Come. We have much to discuss," he said without looking back, as the reinforced glass windows behind him offered a panoramic view of the entire Twin Fang skyline, glittering with life.
Leo followed without hesitation, preparing himself for whatever came next, as he knew that he was due for an intense grilling session, where any slip-up could instantly land him in pretty deep waters.
Contact - ToS