Hitman with a Badass System



Unaware that an executor of the pantheon was relentlessly on his trail, Michael and Vedora departed Nimbosia, their flight continuing for an hour until they touched down in a secluded forest. Once there, Michael wasted no time and procured various alchemical ingredients from the system.

"Why are we stopping?" Ayag's curiosity prompted her question.

"Before we proceed to the secret teleportation array, there's a matter we must address regarding your form. Rodney managed to uncover your true nature as a natural-born hydra. We can't afford to have others make the same discovery," Michael explained.

Finding a spot beneath a towering oak tree, Michael settled onto the dry forest floor. Vedora gracefully leaped from his shoulder and positioned themselves before him.

"Speaking of us, do you think we can gather more information about the hydras birthed from experiments? I'm weary of merely speculating," Ayag vented her frustration, her resentment stemming from the unnatural means through which her kind was created. However, the news of the existence of more hydras kindled a glimmer of hope within her.

Their last interaction with Mugahsuku had conveyed that they were the final living hydras in the universe. Now, with the revelation of the existence of others like them, Vedora felt a surge of elation.

"Sure. And don't worry too much about the origins of your species. The universe is expansive and shrouded in mystery. I'm confident we'll encounter other hydras that weren't born within laboratories," Michael assured Vedora with a comforting tone.

With a deft flick of his wrist, Michael summoned various ingredients onto the ground before him. Studying the components, he ignited the dark flames with a purpose.

"What potion are you brewing?" Sarba inquired.

"A pill," Michael stated simply, casting the crimson red flower into the engulfing darkness.

"This pill will transform you into a three-headed serpent, a common form in this realm—at least, that's according to Nithroel," Michael elucidated as the alchemical process began.

Michael continued to toss the ingredients into the flame, and Ayag watched as the essences of the components floated above the flames, coalescing into vibrant, colorful beads. Gradually, these beads melded together, shaping themselves into three distinct crimson red pills.

"Take these," Michael instructed, tossing the pills toward the open mouths of the three heads. In unison, the heads accepted the pills, their expressions contorting as they swallowed the sour concoction.

"Ugh, it's so… eww," Ayag grimaced, battling the urge to gag at the taste of the pill.

Soon, the three-headed hydra's body began to convulse, its heads transforming into identical white forms. The tiny horns on each head receded, assuming the shape of a snake. Scales disappeared from their bodies, and the small wings morphed into a snake's sleek form.

In a matter of moments, the three-headed hydra had undergone a complete metamorphosis into a three-headed snake, complete with a slender tail.

"How do we appear now?" Sarba inquired as Michael produced a mirror and held it before the snake-like creature.

"Not as impressive as our original form, but not bad at all," Ayag assessed, scrutinizing her new appearance.

"Shall we proceed?" Michael asked, getting to his feet.

With their wings gone, Vedora couldn't leap onto Michael's shoulder as before. Instead, he crouched down, carefully lifting the transformed hydra and placing it onto his shoulder.

"Are you certain there's a teleportation array in this forest?" Ayag sought confirmation once more.

"Well, when I encountered Dagon's soul form within Hades, he mentioned hiding a teleportation portal in this forest. I have no reason to doubt his word," Michael responded, resuming his journey while relying on the waypoint marker Dagon had imprinted into his mind.

"I'm still confused by Dagon's willingness to help us. What does he expect in return?" Sarba pondered.

"Isn't it clear? He wants out help in his fight against the pantheon," Cain suggested.

"I believe there's more to it. Something about Dagon raises suspicion," Michael shared as he guided them through the arid woodland.

"Whatever his true motives, we'll soon find out," Michael asserted.

Eventually, Michael and Vedora arrived at a colossal banyan tree that stood as a regal sentinel among its arboreal kin. Its expansive branches formed a grand canopy overhead. Placing his hand upon the tree as Dagon had instructed, Michael's palm began to emit a soft glow. Ayag noticed a glowing rune, shaped like an eye, materialize on the top of Michael's hand. Responding to this energy, a rune resembling the one on Michael's hand illuminated on the tree, triggering the emergence of a portal. A vortex materialized within the heart of the tree.

"Unknown portal. What could possibly go wrong?" Ayag rolled her eyes with a wry grin as Michael stepped into the portal, disappearing from the forest.

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

As Michael emerged from the portal's embrace, he found himself enveloped by a breathtaking panorama. Lush beauty stretched as far as his eyes could behold. Everywhere he turned, he was met with a tapestry of vibrant flowers, their colors painting the landscape with ethereal hues. 

The very air seemed to carry a delicate fragrance, each inhalation a sensory delight. Trees stood proudly, teeming with life as leaves rustled in a harmonious dance, and a symphony of bird songs filled the air with a melodious chorus. With its warm embrace, the sun cast a golden hue upon the scenery, weaving an enchanting tapestry that seemed lifted from the pages of a fantastical tale.

"This doesn't look like a swamp at all." Ayag remarked, her voice tinged with awe as she surveyed the ethereal landscape that had replaced the expected marshland.

The scene unfolding before Michael left him visibly taken aback, his expression mirroring his astonishment.

"I'm pretty sure Dagon said the portal will lead me to the misty swamp," Michael murmured, his voice a mixture of confusion and surprise. With measured steps, he advanced along the dirt path that stretched out before him, his brow furrowed as he tried to reconcile the lush paradise around him with the swamp he had been led to anticipate.

As Michael followed the path, the distant sound of voices began to grow louder. Curiosity piqued, he embarked on a slight uphill climb, ascending the terrain until he reached a vantage point. From there, he could glimpse the unfolding scene below. 

Descending the slope, he found himself in the presence of a peculiar trio. Two young men stood facing an elderly woman, their expressions marked by agitation. One of the youths possessed a shock of blonde hair, his demeanor brimming with impatience. The other, with a shaved head, radiated a simmering frustration. The elderly woman, draped in weathered garments, met their irate stares with a calm countenance.

"Why won't you tell us, huh? Where's our cousin Carmella?" the blonde-haired young man's voice was edged with exasperation, his fingers jabbing accusingly in the air.

"Yeah, old woman, don't play games with us. We know she's been coming to your house!" the bald man chimed in, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

The elderly woman, a weathered face marked with lines of experience and wisdom, met their accusations with an air of calm defiance. "I've told you both, I have nothing to do with your cousin's disappearance. She's not been here, and I've had no part in it."

A tense silence hung in the air, the three figures locked in a standoff, their emotions palpable. Michael watched as the two young men exchanged incredulous glances, clearly unsatisfied with the old woman's response.

"Quit lying! We've heard enough of your stories," the blonde-haired man retorted, his voice growing louder and more desperate.

With an air of finality, the elderly woman folded her arms across her chest. "Believe what you will, young ones. I have no reason to deceive you."

As the old woman's gaze shifted toward Michael, she beckoned to him, her finger extending like a gnarled branch.

"Young man, come here," her voice carried a note of authority. With a mix of surprise and curiosity, Michael approached the trio, drawn into their midst.

Michael stood before her, taking in her appearance. Despite her aged features, there was a certain vitality about her that caught his attention. She wore a collection of vibrant green garments and had tied her white hair into a neat bun. In her hands, she cradled a basket brimming with an array of colorful flowers.

"You look like a fine young man. Please tell them I have nothing to do with their cousin's disappearance," she implored, her voice carrying a note of sincerity.

Michael regarded the old woman, her words resonating with him. Meanwhile, the blonde-haired youth among the two brothers addressed him as if he were a familiar presence.

"Brother, just don't put your nose into this matter," the blonde-haired one cautioned Michael, a protective tone in his voice.

"He's right, ma'am. I'm not familiar with the situation here," Michael responded, his voice tinged with a sense of detachment.

For a brief moment, the old woman's gaze shifted to Vedora, who was perched on Michael's shoulder in their three-headed snake form.

"Young man, sometimes you don't need to know someone to discern the truth. These brothers accuse me of abducting their cousin. But how could a frail old woman like me overpower a young woman like Carmella?" Her words were delivered with a mix of frustration and defiance, her green eyes locking onto Michael's.

Michael turned to the two brothers, their expressions a mixture of concern and worry. The blonde-haired one spoke up again, a hint of accusation in his voice.

"Don't be deceived by her appearance. There have been rumors in the village about her. People go missing or change after seeking her healing."

"Carmella mentioned meeting you before she vanished," the bald-headed brother added, his tone fraught with desperation.

"But I assure you, she never came to my tent. I never laid eyes on her. And as for those rumors, they are nothing but baseless accusations. Is this how I'm repaid for offering my healing to your ailing villagers?" The old woman's voice wavered between anger and sadness, her emotions raw.

The blonde brother's tone softened, but his doubt remained. "Then allow us to search your tent. If there's nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about."

"It's Carmella's fault, really. Ever since her brother's death, she hasn't been the same. You took advantage of her vulnerability, manipulated her," the bald-headed brother's words were filled with accusation and resentment.

"I provide healing not only for physical ailments but for the mind as well. I offered counsel to help Carmella cope with her grief," the old woman explained, her voice laced with a mixture of patience and understanding.

"If your hands are clean, you've nothing to fear, right? Let them search your house and settle the matter," Michael suggested, a tinge of impatience coloring his words. He wished to unravel the mysteries of the misty swamp, not involve himself in a local dispute.

"Hmph," the old woman's anger, previously directed at the brothers, now veered towards Michael. Her gaze held a weighty challenge, a promise of consequences to come.

"Would you let anyone into your house and allow them to invade your privacy?" The old woman's voice held a note of challenge, catching Michael off guard. Her gaze bore into him, as if assessing his response.

"I didn't anticipate a well-mannered young man like you to take their side. But mark my words, you'll owe me a hearty apology when you step into my tent. And believe me, that day will come sooner than you think. This place is not what it appears," she declared with an unsettling hint of amusement, sending a shiver down Michael's spine.

In the blink of an eye, the old woman lifted her hand and vanished from his field of view, leaving an air of mystery and bewilderment lingering in the space she once occupied.