The assassin's corpse had long since vanished, yet the scent of death still lingered in the air.
Alexander Magnus stood amidst the ruins of the battlefield, golden eyes surveying the moonlit forest.
His robes, untouched.
His breath, steady.
His killing intent, sharpened.
That was just the beginning.
The first assassin had been strong—strong enough to slay countless prodigies.
But Alexander had annihilated him effortlessly.
He had expected this.
What he had not expected—
Was what came next.
A ripple tore through space.
The night air twisted, distorted—shattered.
A second presence descended.
Far stronger.
Far more terrifying.
An aura of absolute destruction swallowed the world.
The very sky seemed to darken, as if the heavens themselves feared his arrival.
Alexander turned, his gaze locking onto the approaching figure.
A lone man stood atop the shattered void, clad in ancient battle-worn armor.
His long, silver hair flowed like a river of death.
His eyes, twin abysses, reflected endless slaughter.
He did not hide.
He did not sneak.
He simply walked forward.
With each step, the world trembled.
A true Deathbringer had arrived.
This was no ordinary assassin.
This was a Saint Executioner—a legend among killers.
An existence feared across the mortal realms.
Alexander's battle-honed instincts screamed.
The gap between them was vast.
This was not a mere test.
This was absolute execution.
The Executioner's voice was deep, emotionless.
"The contract is absolute."
His hand slowly rose.
And then—
BOOM.
The air ignited.
A blade forged from the void appeared in his grasp.
Not a physical weapon—
But a blade woven from pure death essence.
The weapon of an existence that had slain Saint Kings.
Alexander's expression remained calm, yet his blood boiled.
This was no longer a battle of mere skill.
This was a battle to temper his path.
His fingers curled into a fist.
His power surged.
Heaven and Earth began to shake.
The might of a supreme saint was revealed.
The Executioner vanished.
Not with speed.
Not with movement.
He simply ceased to exist.
And the next instant—
SLASH!
A line of death sliced through reality.
Alexander's body split in two.
Or at least—it should have.
Instead—
The illusion of his body shattered like glass.
The real Alexander stood atop a floating golden throne.
His golden gaze burned like celestial fire.
His voice was calm, yet absolute.
"Kneel."
---
The Might of the Heavenly Emperor Throne
A titanic golden throne manifested above the battlefield.
Its divine aura blanketed the world—
A force that even the Executioner could not ignore.
For an instant, the supreme assassin staggered.
His body rejected movement.
His mind wavered.
The power of the Heavenly Emperor Throne was absolute dominion.
A force that dictated—
"Before the Emperor, all must kneel."
But the Executioner was no ordinary foe.
His eyes flashed.
His killing intent erupted.
And in the next instant—
He resisted.
With sheer will, the Executioner broke free.
BOOM!
A thousand killing techniques surged from his blade.
Each slash carried absolute death.
Each strike shattered mountains.
But Alexander Magnus—
Did not move.
Instead, the golden throne behind him burned even brighter.
And then—
He raised a single hand.
And clenched his fist.
CRACK!
The world shattered.
A second vision ignited behind Alexander.
A colossal phantom emerged—
A warrior emperor clad in divine battle armor, towering over the heavens.
His very existence suppressed all things.
The vision of Tyrant's Judgment.
The Executioner's blade—halted.
His killing intent—vanished.
For the first time in centuries—he felt small.
Alexander's gaze bore into him.
His words were not loud.
But they reverberated across the heavens.
"Your fate is decided."
He extended a single hand.
And the space between them collapsed.
The golden warrior within the vision moved.
His palm descended.
And the world collapsed.
BOOOOOOOM!
The Executioner had no time to react.
His void blade disintegrated.
His supreme saint cultivation vanished.
And then—
His body erupted into golden flames.
There was no scream.
No cry.
The Saint Executioner—a legend among assassins—
Had been erased.
Not by a weapon.
Not by a technique.
But by the will of an Emperor.
The world watched in silence.
From the distant void, countless hidden factions watched.
They had seen.
They had witnessed.
A child had not only defeated—but dominated a Saint Executioner.
An existence that should not be possible.
A being that should not exist.
The silence did not last long.
Across the realms—
The decree was issued.
"Alexander must die".