Hitman with a Badass System



After successfully vanquishing Elder Gravesinger and dealing with Fourcrux, Michael stumbled upon a remarkable discovery. He found a skull-shaped medallion among the elder's belongings, and to his surprise, he learned that it was forged in the realm of gods. With Elidyr's assistance and some careful rune adjustments, Michael managed to harness the medallion's power to create a portal back to Itonys.

Rubbing the smooth surface of the skull medallion, Michael witnessed a mysterious purple vortex materialize before him. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he mustered the courage to step into the swirling abyss, vanishing from Elder Gravesinger's pocket dimension in an instant.

Meanwhile, in the wood elves' village, the curious and enthusiastic children had gathered around Elidyr. Eager for tales of adventure and heroism, they huddled closely, their eyes wide with anticipation. Thilve and Tazkin, on the other hand, stood slightly apart, leaning against a sturdy tree trunk, listening attentively to Elidyr's captivating narrative about their god, the Dark Lord.

Elidyr spun a vivid yarn, recounting the courageous exploits of Michael as he confronted a fearsome vampire death squad, battling to assert his dominance and earn their loyalty. The children gasped in awe, their young minds captivated by the tale unfolding before them.

Suddenly, a sharp gust of wind swept through the village, causing everyone to startle and turn their attention towards the disturbance. Before their astonished gazes, a magnificent purple vortex materialized near Michael's throne. With an air of confidence, their god emerged from the swirling portal, returning to them from realms unknown.

"My Lord," Thilve, Tazkin, and Elidyr swiftly bowed before Michael, their faces filled with reverence. After being regaled by Elidyr's tales of Michael's heroism, the young wood elves regarded him with admiration and wonder, their eyes shining with excitement. Each child longed to emulate their god, aspiring to be just as brave and formidable. 

"We must speak," Michael declared, his tone laden with importance. Realizing the gravity of the situation, Thilve and Tazkin exchanged a knowing glance. Sensing the urgency in Michael's voice, Thilve turned her attention towards the children, her expression mirroring concern.

"Alright, children, it's time to explore the wonders of the forest," Thilve gently instructed, suppressing a smile at their playful sighs of mild protest. With a collective nod, the children dispersed, their laughter and chatter fading into the distance. Left alone with his loyal followers, Michael took his rightful place upon his grand throne, radiating an air of command.

"My lord, what transpired in the Skyhall?" Elidyr's voice quivered with both curiosity and trepidation. He could scarcely fathom the audacity of the Dark Lord infiltrating the heart of their enemy's stronghold and returning unscathed. The mere thought sent shivers down Elidyr's spine.

A sly grin crept across Michael's face as he nonchalantly crossed one leg over the other, reclining upon his imposing throne.

"Exceedingly well, my friend," he began, his voice tinged with a mix of satisfaction and mischief. "We now possess the pocket dimension housing the demon coffins. With enough time and resources, we can resurrect this ancient race,"

Tazkin and Thilve couldn't help but shudder at the mention of resurrecting such formidable forces. They had been fortunate to live in the world of Itonys, where their greatest perils had been the natural predators of the forest, until recently encountering the relentless Skyhall soldiers. Yet, compared to their relatively peaceful existence, Michael's challenges seemed insurmountable. His list of adversaries grew with each passing day, and a restful night's sleep had become a luxury of the past.

Eager to witness the downfall of the Skyhall, Elidyr's emotions were torn between terror and elation. Having endured three millennia of imprisonment at the hands of the Skyhall, his hatred for the institution knew no bounds. He would gladly sacrifice anything to witness the Skyhall razed to the ground.

"But to breathe life into these dormant bodies, I must journey into the sea realm," Michael revealed, his gaze fixed on a distant horizon. Retrieving a peculiar artifact from his possession, he casually tossed the skull-shaped medallion towards Elidyr, who caught it with reverent hands. The medallion glimmered brilliantly against the wood elf's palm, its intricate and powerful runes leaving him in awe and disbelief.

"Such a finely crafted artifact," Elidyr murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of admiration and astonishment. "To think they managed to imbue such complexity and power within such a compact medallion."

As the ethereal light danced across the medallion's surface, Elidyr couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship. 

Michael decided to embark on a perilous journey to the sea realm, determined to obtain another seed of darkness that would permanently activate the system. With the system operational, he would be able to resurrect the dormant demon bodies and confront the gods themselves. Despite Nithroel's warning about not returning to the mortal realm until reaching the Celestial stage, Michael had to take the risk. The sea realm held the key to bringing the system online, as it was the only way he could earn the crucial experience points necessary to ascend to the Celestial stage.

"Elidyr, stay here with the wood elves," Michael commanded, his voice firm and resolute. "Assist them in dismantling the outpost of the Skyhall soldiers. I will provide you with explosives and poisons to make the task easier."

Tazkin and Thilve, realizing their god was once again departing their world, knelt before him, a mixture of concern and anticipation etched on their faces.

"My lord, when will you return?" Tazkin inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of longing.

"If all goes according to plan, I'll be back soon," Michael reassured them, his gaze filled with determination.

With a nod of gratitude, Elidyr returned the skull medallion to Michael. As the medallion rested in his palm, Michael focused his thoughts on the House of Elidyr, the place where he had last parted ways with Mutrad. Infusing the medallion with a sliver of arch energy, he felt its power surge and shimmer with anticipation. Before him, a portal materialized, a swirling gateway to the unknown. Taking a deep breath, Michael steeled himself and stepped into the portal, leaving behind his loyal followers and the familiar realm of Itonys.

**************************************

Inside the House of Halrid, Valen sat regally upon his throne, while his fellow elders occupied a row of seats before him. The hall itself was a marvel of underwater construction, nestled in the depths of the ocean. With no sunlight to penetrate its depths, the hall relied on the ethereal glow of the Arctic barrier surrounding the city as its primary light source.

The hall's architecture was nothing short of majestic, reflecting the grandeur and power of the Halrids. Intricate designs adorned the walls, showcasing the craftsmanship of the ancient builders. The ceiling soared high above, adorned with a magnificent chandelier that shimmered with a soft, blue luminescence. Each crystal sparkled like stars in the vast oceanic night sky, casting gentle rays of light that danced and played upon the water below.

Behind Valen, a wall made of transparent glass revealed the mesmerizing expanse of the deep blue sea. Schools of vibrant fish swam gracefully, their colorful scales reflecting the scattered light. Their presence added a sense of tranquility to the hall, as if the creatures of the ocean were drawn to witness the council of the Halrid elders.

The gentle currents outside the glass wall swayed the seaweed and coral, creating a mesmerizing display of movement and life. The vibrant hues of the underwater flora and fauna painted a vivid tapestry against the backdrop of the endless blue sea. It was a sight that reminded the elders of their connection to the vast oceanic realm they called home.

Unlike the calm sea behind them, Valen and the elders bore a frown on their faces, indicating the turmoil in their hearts. Among the elders, Mutrad was one of them. In fact, after Michael, the Dark Lord slaughtered the elders of House Arctic and majority of the House Gladwrath, Mutrad had been assisting Valen in regaining the stability in Arctic hall. Without the Arctic hall elders and House Gladwrath, some of the Serpent Hall elders were making their moves against Arctic hall. This was a delicate era for the sea realm as their peace was overridden by peoples' greed for power, especially the people of Sea Serpent Hall.

Contrary to the serene sea beyond, the faces of Valen and the elders bore a collective frown, betraying the internal turmoil they experienced. Among them, Mutrad stood as one of the key figures. After the Dark Lord, Michael, had mercilessly slain the elders of House Arctic and decimated House Gladwrath, Mutrad had tirelessly assisted Valen in restoring stability to the Arctic hall. However, with the absence of the Arctic hall elders and the weakened House Gladwrath, the Serpent Hall elders had begun to make their moves, driven by their thirst for power. This delicate era tested the peace of the sea realm, as the ambition of the Serpent Hall threatened to overshadow their harmonious existence.

"We must heed the information provided by our spies in Watergod Hall, Lord Valen," voiced one of the gray-haired elders.

"Elder Kylen speaks the truth. Our scholars suspect that the recent tremors in Widow's Down are a result of some form of energy radiation. If our spies are correct, Watergod Hall has already dispatched a team to investigate the matter," added another elder.

Mutrad, with a somber tone, interjected, "With all due respect to Elder Kylen and Elder Myrian, investigating unknown energy radiation in Widow's Down should be our least pressing concern. We have received multiple reports indicating that the Sea Serpent Hall is preparing for an invasion, and numerous elders in House Gormak are conspiring with them. If we do not address the threat posed by the Sea Serpent Hall promptly, the House of Halrid itself will be at risk."

Mutrad's words were met with a tumultuous response from the gathered elders, filled with curses and shouts of disagreement.

"Do not create a scene, boy. The last time we followed your advice and sought the Dark Lord's aid, it resulted in the deaths of our esteemed elders and the ruin of House Gladwrath. If anyone is to blame for the instability within the Arctic hall, it is you," rebuked Elder Kylen.

As soon as the name "Dark Lord" escaped Elder Kylen's lips, an uneasy silence enveloped the hall. The air grew heavy with a mix of fear and trepidation. Elder Kylen himself realized the weight of his words, having uttered the name of the man who instilled terror in their hearts.

"With all due respect, Elder Kylen, let us not forget that it was a unanimous decision to seek the Dark Lord's assistance," calmly interjected Elder Markey, a wise elder with silver hair and serene eyes.

"The Dark Lord agreed to retrieve our artifact, and he fulfilled his promise. Though we cannot disregard the fact that he brought about the demise of the elders and House Gladwrath, it is unfair to lay the blame solely on Mutrad's shoulders. I implore you to consider Mutrad's counsel. Our immediate threat lies with the Sea Serpent Hall. Reflect upon this: even if we were to investigate the origin of the tremors, the Watergod Hall has already dispatched a team to Widow's Down. If our scholars are correct and the cause is indeed something within Widow's Down, it will fall under the jurisdiction of the Watergod Hall. Whether it is a gift or a curse, they will claim it. Regrettably, we are not in a position to oppose the Watergod Hall," Elder Markey reasoned with wisdom and insight.

Mutrad, who had pledged his loyalty to the Dark Lord in order to save his world and the House of Halrid, felt a sense of helplessness wash over him. It had been a year since he last heard from the Dark Lord, and news of his recent return and the shocking destruction of the Guardian Guild had spread throughout the sea realm like wildfire. Yet, the Dark Lord had not contacted Mutrad, leaving him in a state of uncertainty and concern.

"In the event that circumstances become dire, we must consider the possibility of aligning ourselves with the Sea Serpent Hall. We are in no position to engage in a conflict with them, especially since many of the elders from House Gormak have already struck deals with the Sea Serpent Hall," Elder Markey's words echoed through the hall, eliciting gasps of disbelief. However, Mutrad was among the few who found merit in Markey's suggestion.

"That option is not viable. I have consulted with the ancestors in the Immortal Council, and they do not wish for us to join the Sea Serpent Hall and forsake the legacy they have worked tirelessly to establish. They want us to resist and fight," finally spoke Valen, the esteemed leader of the House of Halrid. Unfortunately, his words confirmed Mutrad's apprehensions, leaving him with a heavy heart and a sense of foreboding.

As the elders and Valen continued their discussion, an inexplicable change seemed to permeate the air within the hall. A sudden chill settled in, causing the atmosphere to grow still. The elders and Valen exchanged perplexed glances, sensing an unusual shift in the airflow that intensified with each passing moment. The once gentle breeze transformed into a fierce gust, swirling with an unsettling force.

Caught off guard by this anomaly, the elders and Valen furrowed their brows, their expressions etched with concern. Their attention became fixated on a peculiar sight unfolding before them—a vortex materializing right in the heart of the hall.

"Guards!" Mutrad's urgent cry reverberated through the chamber, prompting the armored soldiers stationed nearby to respond swiftly. Drawing their weapons, the elders and guards prepared to defend themselves against this unexpected intrusion. The soldiers, in a display of agility and discipline, rushed into the hall, encircling the swirling portal with unwavering determination. Their eyes remained fixed upon the mysterious phenomenon as anticipation and tension filled the air.

Then, in a slow and deliberate manner, a figure emerged from within the depths of the portal. The collective gasp that escaped the lips of the elders resonated through the hall, leaving them utterly astonished. The man who stepped forth, to their disbelief, was none other than the Dark Lord himself.