Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 361 361: InterrogationTimeless AssassinChapter 361 361: Interrogation(Twin Fang Planet, Black Serpents Guild Headquarters, Vice Guildmaster's Office)
Antonio took his seat behind the wide office desk, fingers already gliding across the embedded crystal panel to pull up Leo's mission file, his sharp eyes scanning through the contents with quiet intensity.
The air in the room was still, save for the occasional tapping sound of his fingers, as he scrolled through Leo's mission data.
Across from him, Leo sat with a composed expression, his posture relaxed yet alert, the calm glint in his eyes betraying no sign of fatigue or insanity, something that stood out immediately to Antonio.
"Hm."
Antonio leaned back in his chair, one leg crossing over the other as he kept reading.
"Nearly a year," he murmured to himself. "You've been exposed to the tainted mana of the stilled world for an entire year, yet you don't show any signs of mental breakdown, your mental fortitude must be elite level,"
He tapped the table lightly, the sound soft but deliberate.
"Usually when we have candidates return from the time-stilled world after a prolonged stay of 180-200 days, they show signs of schizophrenia and have trouble sleeping at night.
However, you seem to be fine—"
His eyes returned to Leo.
"Either you're made of sterner stuff than the rest… or you're hiding some secret that I don't know."
Leo said nothing, offering only the faintest shrug of acknowledgment—neither confirming nor denying.
Antonio's gaze lowered as he read further, pausing at a section flagged in red.
[ Team Member: Karl Maxtern.
Threat level: High.
Affiliation: Evil Cult.
Remarks : Capture immediately if returns ]
The Vice Guildmaster's expression didn't shift. He read it, digested it, then closed the panel with a flick of his wrist, as he chose not to comment on it as of yet.
Instead, he leaned forward, folding his hands together as his voice dropped to a more focused tone.
"So… let's see it. Where is the origin metal?"
Leo, anticipating the request, nodded once and reached into his spatial ring as he pulled out the block of origin metal from within and placed it on the table with a soft *Thud*.
Antonio's eyes narrowed.
Even without touching it, even without scanning it, he could feel it.
The origin metal. Heavy. Pure. Saturated in energy older than most planets in the current galactic cycle.
But he didn't reach for it.
"Please," he said, voice cool but unmistakably firm, "empty both your spatial ring and pouch."
Leo stiffened ever so slightly.
There was no aggression in Antonio's tone, but the implication was clear: complete transparency… or complete mistrust.
A long second passed before Leo nodded.
He unclasped his ring and pouch, emptied both across the desk in full view, as small clusters of objects tumbled onto the table's smooth surface :
Food ration packets, mana potions, mana stones, night goggles, thick ropes, glowstones, a fire starter kit, a handful of antique scrolls from the conclave, and a few stolen frost grenades.
But there was no additional metal to be found inside, or nothing alarming that would flag him as a threat.
Antonio eyed the spread, his fingers tracing lazy circles in the air as a thin sweep of violet mana pulsed from his palm and drifted across the objects, scanning for hidden enchantments or cloaked items.
Nothing flickered.
No false readings.
After a few seconds, he gave a single nod and slid the storage ring and pouch back across the table toward Leo.
"Thankyou for your cooperation," he said quietly.
Then, and only then, did he finally allow himself to touch the origin metal, as he picked it up with surprising ease and held it between his palms as he pulled it closer to his eye for inspection.
For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes focused only on the strange material in his grasp, as a frown slowly formed on his brow.
"I can see traces of enchantment on this–" he said, as Leo nodded, and showed the burn marks on his palm.
"As soon as I grabbed it, the metal seared a burn mark into my skin in some ancient language I can't read.
I assume it was enchanted to protect from theft," Leo replied, as Antonio took a close look at his palms before finally nodding, seemingly satisfied with his reply.
So far, the interview had gone smoothly for Leo, however, that was only because of his foresight to already ship the metal before coming here to claim his rewards, as if he did not take that step, then he would have been busted when Antonio asked to check his ring and pouch.
'This guy is thorough–' Leo thought internally, as he could feel the pressure rising, as Antonio increased his scrutiny.
"The mana stones you retrieved from the Time-Stilled World still exhibit traces of soft corruption, likely a result of prolonged exposure to the tainted mana in that environment. So yes, I believe you have indeed been there," Antonio said, inspecting the stones placed on the table carefully.
"The guild records also confirm your entry and return."
He leaned back in his chair, his expression turning more serious.
"That said, belief alone is not enough."
His tone grew firmer.
"I need a complete account of what happened to you and your team inside the Time-Stilled World. Only then will I mark the mission as completed and authorize your reward."
He folded his arms and fixed his eyes on Leo.
"Start from the beginning. Tell me how you lost your team members or became separated from them. Explain what measures you took to protect your mind from the world's corruption. Describe how you identified the Evil Cult operative and how you dealt with him. And finally, explain how you managed to recover the origin metal and make it out alive."
His voice was calm but unyielding.
"Do not leave anything out. Take your time and walk me through everything."
Leo took a slow breath. He had anticipated this exact moment and prepared his story well in advance.
What he shared was truthful for the most part, with only one omission, as he said nothing about stumbling upon the Conclave or his meeting with Moltherak.
As that was the one part, he chose to keep to himself.
—-------------
Antonio listened to the entire recounting with rapt attention, occasionally cutting in with pointed questions that Leo answered with precision and composure.
By the time the tale drew to a close, even the seasoned Vice Guildmaster found himself stunned—momentarily speechless by the sheer scale of adversity Leo had to overcome.
"I still can't believe you managed to defeat a transcendent-level cult operative while only being a Grandmaster," Antonio finally said, his voice low with a mix of awe and disbelief. "There are very few warriors in the universe who could have pulled that off."
His tone, which had started with scrutiny and measured skepticism, now carried a distinct note of respect.
Leo's story had been airtight—detailed, coherent, and devoid of exaggeration. It was the kind of account that demanded belief not just for what was said, but for how it was said.
"I'll admit… if there weren't eyewitnesses to corroborate your claims, I'd probably have dismissed most of it as bravado," Antonio said, leaning back in his chair. "But still, I will be confirming everything. It's standard procedure."
"Of course," Leo replied smoothly, nodding once. "Please do. I've never had a reason to boast, nor the need to embellish."
Antonio gave a small nod of approval.
"Come with me," he said, rising to his feet. "Warriors of your rank don't usually get an audience with the Guildmaster himself—but I think an exception is warranted."
He gestured toward the door.
"Let's hand-deliver this metal to him. I suspect Dupravel will be very interested in meeting you."
With that, the two stepped into the private lift once more, ascending toward Floor 72—the level reserved for the Guildmaster's personal office.
Timeless AssassinC362 362: Shock
(Black Serpents Guild Headquarters, En route to Guildmaster's Office, Floor 72)
The private lift music played quietly as it ascended, the blue floor indicator above the doors ticking upward at a steady pace.
Antonio stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes fixed on the polished metal doors as he spoke without turning.
"Before we go in," he said, voice lower than usual, "I'd like to ask you to excuse the Guildmaster's behavior. He's… dealing with some personal matters."
Leo arched an eyebrow at the odd disclaimer, but said nothing more than a curt nod.
*Ding.*
The lift doors slid open with a quiet hiss.
Leo stepped forward—and froze.
The office beyond was nothing like he had expected.
There, squatting barefoot on top of the reinforced desk like a beast perched, sat Monarch Dupravel Nuna, Guildmaster of the Black Serpents.
His ragged cloak hung off his shoulders like a loose animal hide, while his wild, matted hair fell around his face in greasy tangles. Between his teeth was the gnawed stump of what used to be a pencil—its splinters lining the corners of his cracked lips.
His eyes…. sunken, bloodshot, and twitching locked onto Leo the moment he appeared.
"Grrrr…"
The sound wasn't a greeting. It wasn't even speech. It was a low, guttural warning, half-growl, half-animal instinct.
Leo stiffened instinctively, every trained fiber in his body tightening, as his brain tried to reconcile the overwhelming presence of power that radiated from this... creature… with the image of a broken man.
But before he could react further, Antonio stepped forward sharply.
"Dupravel. Behave."
His tone cut through the room like a whip crack.
"This boy brought back the Origin Metal you wanted so badly. He's the one who completed your mission. He's the reason that this guild will probably not go to shit. So you better treat him with respect."
For a long, tense moment, Dupravel didn't move.
Then, with the clumsy grace of something feral remembering how to be human, he slid off the desk and dropped into his chair. His bones creaked. His posture remained hunched, but his breathing slowed.
As for the first time, he looked at Leo—not as a threat or a mere insect, but as a fellow human.
His eyes narrowed, focusing, searching, as he leaned forward and muttered—
"…You the one… who bring… my blood's ticket home?"
Leo stepped forward, keeping his expression calm, his hands relaxed by his sides.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I'm the one who brought it back."
Dupravel squinted, as if the words didn't quite register until they rolled around his head a few more seconds.
Then his eyes twitched.
"How you get past… crazy violet-eyed priest?" he asked, each word spoken like gravel grinding through his throat.
However, Leo didn't falter at the question.
"I was too weak for the priest to bother with killing me," he replied honestly, as a low, choking sound rumbled in Dupravel's throat—a noise that could have been laughter… or the start of another breakdown.
"See this–" he instructed, as he leaned back and began clawing at the folds of his robe until his hand found the tear in his chest-wrap.
"Ugh,"
With a slow grunt, he pulled the fabric aside, to reveal a gnarled, jagged scar that was nearly a foot long and ran diagonally across his ribcage, the flesh still faintly discolored with lingering curse marks.
"Crazy priest team up with silver hero… to slash my chest," he muttered, tapping the scar with a grim sort of pride. "I, barely survive."
Leo gave a slow nod.
There was no disbelief in his eyes, only understanding, as having faced the two himself, he knew exactly how powerful they really were.
Antonio, who had remained respectfully silent, stepped forward now and placed the block of Origin Metal onto the table between them.
It gave a low metallic thud as it touched the desk, as Dupravel's hand immediately snapped forward to grab it.
*Clutch*
Clutching it like a starving man clutching bread, the Guildmaster stared down at the origin metal block with wide, fevered eyes.
His fingers trembling, as his long, untrimmed nails scratched softly against its surface.
For a few seconds, the room was silent again, the gravity of the moment unbroken.
Until a few seconds later, when Dupravel finally looked up.
"Good job… kid," he croaked.
"I now forgive you for beating my son at the finals."
He turned his head just enough to nod toward Antonio.
"Reward him."
Leo bowed with practiced grace, his voice composed.
"I'm honored by your words, Guildmaster. And I accept the grace."
Antonio didn't speak, but the faint upward twitch of his lips was the closest thing to a smile Leo had seen from the man since they began talking.
Dupravel, meanwhile, continued to cradle the Origin Metal against his chest, rocking slightly in his chair like a lunatic soothing a child.
"I told you, Antonio," he mumbled, almost smugly. "This mission… not impossible. Ants like him… can complete it."
Antonio's smile widened just a touch more as he folded his arms.
"Perhaps you haven't gone completely senile after all, old friend, maybe you do have some brains left," he said under his breath, as Dupravel either didn't hear him, or chose not to respond.
Instead, he kept rocking the origin metal… as the madness in his eyes flickered like dying candlelight.
—----------
Leo was excused from Dupravel's office shortly after the origin metal was confirmed to be genuine, and as he made his way back through the guild headquarters, he still found it difficult to believe just how far the once enigmatic Monarch had fallen.
He had watched Dupravel during the Interstellar Circuits and knew firsthand how powerful and charismatic the man had once been.
But the version he encountered today was merely a shell of that legend.
'If I report this to the Cult… will they try to assassinate Dupravel?' Leo wondered, as he let out a dry chuckle at the thought.
Before parting, Antonio had informed him that whether he chose the gold reward or the item from the vault, he could collect either from the mission hall in two weeks, where the staff would already be briefed to expect him.
That gave him a two-week window to coordinate yet another heist—one that, in terms of difficulty, was far easier than his last. However, unlike the previous job where every element was under his control, this time he had to depend entirely on the Evil Cult to make the plan work, which was something that Leo did not feel confident about.
"I've held up my end of the bargain and found a legitimate opportunity to step inside the vault. I hope those idiots have held up their end as well and actually possess a viable method for me to steal the scroll they so desperately want.
If, after everything I've done and risked, I still fail to retrieve the scroll because of the cult's incompetence or poor planning, then there would be no bigger fool than me in this entire godforsaken universe," Leo concluded bitterly, as he shook his head and began walking back toward his apartment, from where he intended to contact Muiyan Faye without delay.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC363: An emergency call
Chapter 363: An emergency call
(Planet Vorthas, Town Hall, War Chamber, Twelfth Elder's POV)
The chamber was alive with noise.
Union leaders from the ore-mining guilds, alloy refineries, and missile-part manufacturers all spoke at once, their voices overlapping with urgency as they discussed raw material quotas and revised timelines.
At the center of it all stood the Twelfth Elder, listening with measured patience as he calmly negotiated production boosts and wartime cooperation without compromising planetary morale.
"We will double the output in Sector 7, but I want hazard pay implemented immediately. We are not beasts. We are builders," the ore mining union leader said firmly, earning a round of nods and muttered agreements from the gathered representatives.
"What are your thoughts on this twelfth elder?" Someone asked, when suddenly a soft buzzing sound rang across the chamber.
*Bzzzt*
*BZZZZZ*
The hum started low, but it grew sharp and violent, as the Twelfth Elder's private communication crystal vibrated against his belt with enough intensity to draw every eye in the room.
'Huh? I was not supposed to get any communication requests today–' The twelfth elder thought, as he glanced down towards his belt and looked at the small image being projected upon it.
'Its Mu Fan—' He realized, as his expression shifted instantly.
"Excuse me, this matter cannot wait," he said, his voice colder now, authority layered with urgency, as without another word, he turned and strode into the adjacent antechamber, sealing the soundproof door behind him with a wave of his hand.
*THUD*
—————-
(Private Room, Communication Link Established)
"What is it?" Noir said, his voice clipped. "You weren't scheduled to contact me today."
There was a hitch on the other end—then Mu Fan's voice came through, breathless, urgent, and almost disbelieving.
"He's done it… Twelfth Elder, Leo has found a way to enter the Black Serpents' Treasury Vault. He's now asking for our help to plan the heist."
"He came through! Just like you said he would. He's already done it!"
Silence followed.
A long one.
Noir's pupils contracted, his knuckles whitening around the edge of the communication crystal.
"…Impossible."
He took a step back, as if the revelation had landed like a blow to his chest.
"It hasn't even been six weeks since we assigned him the mission… and he's cracked open a path that we were not able to breach in over thirty years?"
His mind surged with disbelief—then steadied, overtaken by the slow, unmistakable rhythm of rising awe.
'That… that's the quality of a true dragon.'
A rare smile spread across his lips—unusual, but unmistakably real.
The Dragon, as the legends said, was the one who brought light where none existed, who made the impossible bend, and turned despair into destiny.
Noir had once believed he would never witness such a figure again—not after Noah died.
But Leo Skyshard… was beginning to prove him wrong.
"Are you certain?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly, as he became unable to suppress the excitement in his pitch.
"How did he do it? You're sure it's not a trap?"
For the first time in decades, the carefully composed facade of the Twelfth Elder, the calm, stoic tactician, was cracking, revealing the spark of something far more dangerous beneath.
Hope.
Hope that the boy he decided to groom on a longshot was turning out to become the savior his people needed.
"No it's not a trap. He apparently completed a really difficult mission for the Serpents and has earned the right to enter the vault and pick an item of his choosing as the reward.
He's gonna get the chance to enter in two weeks, and he's seeking our help to smuggle the scroll out without being killed," Fan said with enthusiasm, as Noir fell silent yet again.
His gaze remained fixed on the wall infront, his fingers slowly curling into a fist as he processed the information.
"Unbelievable…" he whispered, almost to himself. "This boy… he's exceeding even the wildest expectations I set for him."
His breath caught in his throat, mind torn between awe and the cold, calculating realization of what this breakthrough could mean for the cult as a whole and for Leo's destiny.
With the council having already agreed to name him Dragon if he brings back the scroll….. this could almost guarantee his selection as the next Dragon!
*Step*
*Step*
He paced once, then again, before stopping mid-step.
"Tell him…" he said slowly, his voice regaining its edge of command, "he doesn't need to perform any complicated heist or extraction."
He turned toward the crystal, his eyes sharp and brimming with purpose.
"All he needs to do is smuggle a dimensional portal point into the vault and secure it in a fixed, undisturbed spot."
He paused to let the gravity of the plan sink in.
"If he can manage that, the cult operatives will handle the rest.
We'll initiate a remote portal sync and storm the vault in one clean, coordinated sweep, where we loot everything inside, from the scroll, the relics, the assets…. we'll take everything within twenty minutes."
His fingers tapped against his thigh, calculating the variables.
"But make sure he understands… this will burn his identity as a righteous faction citizen permanently. Once that portal goes live, there will be no denying his involvement."
Noir's voice grew colder now, more precise.
"He must get to safety and enter Cult territory before we trigger the portal, because, if we succeed, the Black Serpents will issue a black-rank mission under his name almost immediately.
There won't be a single Black Serpent operative who won't take the mission of finding and killing him, as for the rest of his life he will live as the most wanted man in the universe–"
Noir exhaled, as he steadied himself.
"Make sure he's ready for the consequences…. Make sure that he understands that by taking this mission, he's going to turn 90% of the universe into his permanent enemy.
And that, his only option would be to stay aligned with the Cult from then on," Noir instructed, as Fan nodded from the other end.
"Understood, elder," she said with conviction as Noir ended the line, his hands trembling with excitement, as he rushed out of the room to go find a dimensional portal point at once.
Contact - ToS
Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 364: DemandsTimeless AssassinChapter 364: DemandsChapter 364: Demands
(Twin Fang Planet, Outer Housing Ring, Leo's Apartment)
The dim glow of a single mana-lamp lit the room, as Leo reclined on his bed, one arm lazily folded behind his head while the other held up his personal communication crystal.
The soft hum of the crystal vibrated gently against his palm as Mu Fan's projection flickered to life, her face beaming with barely contained excitement.
"I have some good news," she said breathlessly, "You're going to be taken in. After this mission, you don't need to keep living with the enemy. You'll officially become one of us."
Leo nodded without emotion, his expression unreadable, as if Fan's words carried the weight of a casual weather report to him and nothing more.
"And the best part? You don't have to steal anything yourself. All you need to do is drop the dimensional portal point somewhere inside the vault. Once it's active, the cult will handle the rest."
She grinned.
But Leo didn't.
"Respectfully, Fan…" Leo said, his voice like glass—cool, sharp, and with the threat of shatter. "I don't trust a single one of your operatives to complete this mission."
Her smile faltered.
"And I certainly don't trust the cult to honor its word and leave my family unharmed after I deliver the scroll you're so obsessed with."
The projection flickered slightly, the expression on Mu Fan's face now stiff with tension.
"You don't trust us to keep our promise?"
"No," Leo answered, immediately and unapologetically.
The room fell into silence, heavy and pointed.
"You know exactly what this is," he continued, sitting upright now, his tone darkening. "You've manipulated me from the start. Not as an ally, not as a chosen agent, but as a tool. A weapon you thought you could aim. And I played along, because I had no power."
He leaned forward, voice quiet but venomous.
"You stole my memories, you threatened me with the safety of my family to do your bidding, and you forced me to join Rodova and the Black Serpents, but that streak of you making unilateral decisions for my life ends today."
Mu Fan looked stunned, as if she hadn't expected Leo to say such harsh words out of the blue—at least not with this much heat behind it.
"If you want that portal placed, if you want that scroll retrieved… then these are my terms."
He raised three fingers.
"First, I want my family moved to whatever planet you plan on relocating me to.
I want them to have a mansion to live. Full security detail. And a live video call with all of them—healthy, safe, and sane—before the two weeks are up.
As I will not carry on with the mission before confirming that they are indeed alive and unharmed."
"Second," he continued, "you're going to retrieve my pet, Dumpy. He's on Planet Palkia as far as I can recall, in a universal government grooming facility.
And I don't care if you have to steal him, or burn the facility down.
I don't care if it's possible or not possible for you to retrieve him on such short notice.
The fact of the matter is…. No Dumpy means No scroll"
Mu Fan opened her mouth, but Leo cut her off with a raised hand.
"Third… I want you to access the Lost Heroes Program operated by the Universal Government, and recreate my master—Ben.
The cybernetic copy, the one from the game logs, with his memories about our interactions intact.
Reconstruct him. I want him there too, standing beside my mother and Dumpy when I speak to them. Not a minute later."
He lowered his hand.
"If all three conditions are not met within the next fourteen days, this deal is dead. I won't plant anything. I will enter the vault and pick whatever 'I' want from inside it and you will lose your chance to get the scroll, forever.
And after that, you can tell your cult to pack up their dreams of ever getting it back."
He stood up slowly, walking to the small window in his apartment, as he looked out at the street below with dead eyes.
"Because the days where I played the role of the obedient puppet are over.
I don't work for you, Fan. I don't serve your cause. If you want what I have… then meet my price."
Mu Fan remained frozen, the light in her expression extinguished, her excitement gutted by the sudden, brutal clarity in Leo's voice.
For the first time, she realized something critical.
By suppressing Leo's autonomy and deceiving him during the formative stages of his growth, the Cult hadn't forged loyalty in his heart, but had rather sown distrust.
Fan had always believed that their actions were necessary, that every manipulation they did was justified in the name of helping Leo evolve into a powerful Dragon Candidate.
But now, with even a sliver of freedom back in his life, Leo no longer viewed the Cult as his saviors.
He viewed them as manipulators.
And the loyalty they had hoped to cultivate had been replaced by quiet, simmering suspicion.
"Just so you know…. This is not an us versus you scenario.
The Cult is your future home.
And we are your extended family.
We don't mean to deceive or manipulate you.
Nor do we wish to bring harm to your family.
I will forward your demands to the elder I report to.
But do know that your words today have greatly saddened me.
We are not your enemies Leo.
You don't need to watch your back against us," Fan said before disconnecting the call, as Leo simply scoffed at her last words.
"Woman, I couldn't care less if you feel saddened.
You have brought this on yourself—" he muttered, shaking his head, as he couldn't believe that Mu Fan had thrown such a childish barb before leaving.
*Thud*
He tossed the communication crystal aside, letting it clatter onto the bed without a second glance.
For a few seconds, the room was silent again.
Not out of peace.
But because Leo was thinking.
He had finally said it—drawn a line that couldn't be erased. And it felt… right.
Because if he didn't take control of his own fate now, then when would he?
After the next forced mission?
After the next betrayal?
He had been patient. Obedient. Cooperative. But none of those things had earned him honesty from the Cult. Or a promise to not harm his family anymore.
Only more manipulation.
So from now on, if the Cult wanted anything from him, they would have to pay for it in full.
Because while Leo knew he'd soon be forced to live among Cult operatives, branded a fugitive by 90% of the universe, he was determined to live that life on his own terms.
As then, at least the choices leading to his rise or downfall would be his own, and not something forced upon him by someone else.
'Sorry Fan, but there will be no more free obedience. No more silent suffering.
Just business—' Leo thought, as he cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders.
Because if the cost of looking out for himself was looking cruel in other people's eyes, then he was ready to pay it!
He wasn't here to be liked.
His priority was his own survival and his family, and if others felt offended because of it, then he really did not have any fucks left to spare anymore.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC365: Loyalty
Chapter 365: Loyalty
(Meanwhile, Planet Terra Nova, Outer Slums, Guild Office of "The Uprising")
The Uprising had once been a powerhouse—an influential guild boasting hundreds of thousands of loyal members.
But the past few years had not been kind to it.
Forced to abandon their prime headquarters in the city center, they relocated to the slums, unable to keep up with the soaring rent prices.
Now, their guild hall creaked louder than its members' morale.
The ceiling groaned with every breeze, and the warped wooden floorboards bowed beneath even the lightest step.
The air reeked of rust and damp timber—a scent that lingered like failure.
Empty mission boards lined the peeling walls, flanked by faded banners that once inspired pride but now served only as quiet reminders of a forgotten glory.
The guild's decline was not just in location, but also in spirit, in purpose and in the very heartbeat of the guild itself.
"No Sam, I don't think you understand!" A guild member standing in the missions hall said, as he shook his head and tried to explain the reality to his brainwashed friend.
"I heard from Jason that it's over,"
"Another week, maybe two. If we don't find a way to make at least three million MP, we won't have funds to repay the loan sharks, renew the guild license, or to pay rent for this damn forsaken place…"
"The rival guilds are already mocking us. Calling us zealots without a leader. Delusional idiots worshipping a ghost.".
"They think TheBoss is never coming back."
"They say that Chaosbringer is delusional, and that The Boss has long outgrown us….
According to them, we will be unable to pay our debts soon, and then all our assets will be seized by loan sharks, and our core management team will be forced into manual labor to repay their loans" he argued, as a tear escaped the edge of his eyes.
Things were truly tough for The Uprising right now.
However, their faith in 'TheBoss' returning someday remained unshaken.
"Jason knows nothing! Lord Boss will return someday! And once he does, we will prove him wrong!" Sam replied, as he continued to remain as delusional as ever.
——————
In the adjacent room, Chaosbringer slouched behind his cracked mahogany desk, a half-empty bottle of sour berry liqueur swaying gently in his perfectly manicured fingers.
His long, shimmering nails, once painted with radiant hues of pride, were chipped now. His once-fiery eyes stared blankly at the peeling wall in front of him as he wondered what desperate move he would be forced to make next.
'The Sophia girl and her Alcazar family are relentless. They keep offering more money every month, trying to get me to sell everything I know about my Lord,' Chaosbringer thought, exhaling a heavy sigh.
Five million MP. That was the last offer they had given him to spill the truth. And still, he had turned it down.
'I will never sell information about my Lord. But I do need money to keep the guild alive,' he admitted silently, taking another slow sip of his drink, as suddenly, the door to his office slammed open with a sharp crash.
*CRASH*
A young guild courier stumbled inside, panting, tears streaming freely down his cheeks.
"Leader!" the boy cried out. "It's… it's a package! A package from the Boss!"
Chaosbringer didn't move at first. The words echoed in his head, soft at first, then louder, building until something inside him snapped back to life.
"…What did you just say?" he asked, as his dead eyes turned alive once more and his slouched posture automatically turned straight.
"A package. From him!" the courier repeated, holding up a cloth-wrapped parcel with trembling hands.
"It says 'TheBoss' on the sender label."
Like a man struck by lightning, Chaosbringer shot up from his seat the moment he heard those words, as his sudden rise caused his creaky chair to stumble and fall backwards.
*Thud*
"Give it to me!" He said as he lunged forward with startling fervor, snatching the parcel with both hands as though it were the final sacred relic left in a crumbling temple.
"Don't touch it. You— out. Out! This is divine property, child! Be gentle!" he hissed, clutching the package tightly against his chest, his voice cracking with emotion.
Slamming the door shut behind him, Chaosbringer returned to his desk and placed the package down as reverently as a priest laying an offering upon an altar.
"OH HOLY!"
He gasped aloud the moment he saw the name scrawled across the label in familiar, sharp handwriting:
From: The Boss.
The package had no return address. no seal. no hidden insignia. Just that name. That sacred, holy name.
"Mother of divinity… it's real… it's him…" Chaosbringer mused, as he quickly unwrapped the package and checked the contents inside.
As inside he found, one wrapped block of brick, one letter and a cheque.
'What did the lord send?' Chaosbringer wondered as he peeled open the letter first, fingers shaking like a storm through silk.
[ "I now remember everything.
You'll hear from me soon.
Until then—take care of our people and use this money wisely.
Also, keep this package safe. It's very valuable for me.
Greetings, The Boss." ]
Tucked beneath the note was a blank Universal Bank cheque… stamped for a total limit of 10 million MP.
Chaosbringer didn't cry.
He sobbed.
Unashamedly. Loudly. Beautifully.
He fell to his knees as the tears streamed down, smearing the little remnants of eyeliner still clinging to his lower lids.
"My Lord… my light… my GOD!!" he wailed, clutching the note to his chest like a lifeline. "You REMEMBER ME!"
He looked up at the rotten ceiling, lips quivering into a manic smile.
"He's BACK! He's ALIVE! He hasn't forgotten us! He hasn't forgotten ME!"
He twirled in place like a drunk ballerina, hugging the cheque against his cheek as he giggled through the tears.
"No more poverty! No more judgment from those damn doubters! The Uprising shall RISE again!"
He clutched the package to his chest now, rocking back and forth like a lover reunited after war.
"I knew it. I knew he'd return to us. I waited. I prayed. I believed. And now… my faith has been rewarded."
His sobs softened into sniffles, as he ran a finger over the sharp lettering on the envelope.
"My Lord… ofcourse I will keep your package safe for you. I will let no-one even touch it."
Still cradling the parcel like a newborn, Chaosbringer slowly rose to his feet, straightening his robe with newfound dignity.
The drunken haze that had clouded his days vanished, replaced by a spark that hadn't burned in years.
He walked to the cracked mirror on the far wall, wiped his tears, and began fixing his makeup with trembling hands.
"If the world doubted before, let them doubt now," he whispered, applying a fresh coat of shimmering lipstick. "For the one we serve remembers us again."
Then, with eyes burning bright and lips curled into a confident smile, he turned to face the door.
"Prepare the guild hall," he called out. "Repaint the banners. Polish the floors. You sector E slackers—clean your boots and find your spines. It's time for this guild to rise again!"
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC366: Politicians And Their Fragile Ego
Chapter 366: Politicians And Their Fragile Ego
(Planet Vorthak, The Twelfth Elder's POV)
The Twelfth Elder was not amused at all when Mu Fan called him again and informed him about all the demands that Leo had made in order to complete this mission.
"There's an ongoing war damnit… I don't have spare manpower to be completing pet retrieval missions for the boy!"
He complained, the demand already leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
On one hand, he respected Leo for having the clarity to distrust the Cult and for putting forward conditions that safeguarded his own interests.
However, on the other hand, it annoyed him to no end that the super soldier he had groomed also came with a mind of his own—when what he really wanted was a mindless weapon that danced to orders without question.
"I had scheduled an emergency meeting with the First Elder today… I'm sure he won't be pleased when I inform him about this development," Noir muttered to himself, as he could already smell the lecture coming from a mile away.
'You must always control your assets. You must behave as their counselor and guide them in the right direction, even when they think you're wrong.'
He could already hear the First Elder's voice in his head, scolding him with that same old doctrine.
The man was going to be pissed when he heard about Leo's demands.
Noir just knew it.
—————
(That same afternoon, Planet Tithia)
Later that afternoon, as the Twelfth Elder sat across from the First and began detailing Leo's success in locating a way into the Black Serpents Vault—along with the outrageous list of demands that followed—he watched the expression on the First Elder's face shift, transforming from delight to cautious scrutiny in a matter of minutes.
"The boy is a true talent, there's no denying it. He does have the talent to become the next Dragon. But his temperament is an issue.
You must understand, Lord Twelfth, that the only reason I'm backing Skyshard over Aegon Veyr to become Dragon is because I find Veyr's attitude to be utterly lacking in malleability.
Otherwise he too possesses sufficient talent to qualify.
You must learn to control your boy, because while he will get away with his little stunt this time…..
If he keeps up this attitude, then he will lose the support of the council even if he is named the next Dragon," The first elder instructed as Noir nodded with his head down.
"Once he is within the folds of the Cult, I expect him to mature and wisen up in our ways.
For now what's important is that we retrieve the scroll and help him become the next Dragon…..
Then, as far as we have his reverse scale, his family under our thumb.
We can always find a way to make him fall in line—" Noir said, as the first elder nodded in agreement.
"Go on… you have my permission to use men for my corps to complete the demands the boy has put forward, but make sure that a repeat of this scenario never happens again—" The first said at the end as he concluded the meeting.
——————–
(Same time, Planet Juxta, Vice Cult Leader Charles)
The sky had burned for four days straight.
Four days of relentless bombardment.
Four days of watching metal birds crash and burn before they ever touched soil.
Four days of decoy ships, empty pods, and disposable soldiers hurled at the mana shield like firewood into a furnace.
Vice-Cult Leader Charles stood atop the northern watchtower, arms folded, cigarette between his fingers, as he stared at the horizon—where another swarm of ships had begun their descent, yet again.
"They're still at it," he muttered, voice low and sharp, as the rumble of distant detonations echoed in the wind.
"Four fucking days… and not a single ship higher than a glider class deployed by those bastards… you got to respect how deep their pockets run, because at this point I'm pretty sure we have destroyed more righteous glider ships in a week than the cult has owned in its entire history," He noted, as he laughed a self depreciating chuckle.
The planet's mana shield flared again in the sky—an electric flash of divine mana peeling through another glider class, as the craft popped mid-air, its fragments vaporizing instantly.
"Seventy-six," Charles said aloud, counting the explosions. "Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight. Seventy-nine…"
He stopped at eighty-two. This wave had lasted under four minutes.
"Sir! Battle report sir!" A voice came from beneath him, as Lieutenant Fred climbed up the tower, panting and coated in sweat.
"Sir, we've just received word from Sector E—two more striker pods made it through the outer curvature but burned in the upper atmosphere before touchdown."
Charles didn't even look at him. He just took another drag from his cigarette.
"No survivors, then?"
Fred shook his head. "None."
A long silence followed, broken only by the low drone of defensive engines humming far below.
Charles exhaled smoke through his nose. "Lieutenant, how many ships have they sent in total since the war began?"
Fred hesitated. "Over sixty thousand, sir."
Charles snorted. "And how many have breached the shield?"
Fred's lips thinned. "Zero."
Charles turned, his black coat flaring behind him like a banner of war, his boots thudding heavily against the stone floor as he walked away from the ledge.
"Cheeky bastards aren't they? Fred. They're bleeding us dry," he muttered.
"The mana cost to keep that shield running is astronomical. Even if we're vaporizing them like paper drones, every single pulse drains our reserves."
"They know we can't keep our advanced defenses active forever. Eventually, we'll be forced to shut them down—whether due to resource depletion or for maintenance.
And when that day comes, they'll unleash their destroyer-class ships and heavier artillery, the ones that can actually pose a threat.
They're not attacking to break us now.
They're bleeding us.
It's death by erosion."
Fred nodded grimly. "So what do we do, sir?"
Charles paused at the tower's edge, looking back toward the battlefield of the sky.
"We don't blink. That's what we do," he said. "We let them waste their pilots, their ships, their resources. Let them drain themselves chasing fireworks."
Then, softer, almost to himself, "Because the day we turn off the taps on the defense system… that's the day when hellfire rains on Juxta."
Fred stood silent beside him, watching the sky light up once again as yet another wave of attacks began.
"And Fred…"
"Yes, sir?"
"Inform the Council Of Elders that I want an emergency airdrop of high grade mana cores from Planet Noxus. If the righteous faction keeps up this intensity for another week, I'll need a backup battery to keep the sky from breaking." Charles informed, as Fred saluted him before running off.
*Flick*
Charles flicked his spent cigarette over the edge of the tower and pulled another from his coat, before lighting it slowly as he continued to count the explosions in the sky.
'101…102….103….'
The explosions continued to ring in the sky, as he watched the broken bits fall down towards the planet's surface with steely calm eyes.
"Come on then, righteous bastards," he growled under his breath. "Let's see how long you can keep this little light show going….."
"Surely, even you can't keep losing thousands of ships everyday? Can you?"
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC367: A Reality Check
Chapter 367: A Reality Check
(Planet Tithia, Inner Furnace District, Supreme Master Blacksmith Argo's Forge)
After his meeting with the First Elder concluded, the Twelfth Elder stepped into the Inner Furnace district, which was home to THE undisputed best blacksmiths in the universe.
He had come here to secure a small dimensional portal point that he could supply Leo with in order to complete the mission.
However, when he made the request to Master Argo through a communication crystal the previous day, the man had not taken it well and immediately started shouting like a rabid dog.
In the end, Argo demanded that Noir visit him in person at the forge, which left Noir with no choice but to make the trip himself.
*Crackle*
Noir's neatly pressed robes billowed faintly as heatwaves rolled over him like silent fire.
Sparks danced through the air as hammers pounded molten metal, and apprentices scrambled to make space, bowing low the moment they recognized who had entered.
But the man at the center of it all did not bow.
He didn't even glance up.
Until Noir cleared his throat once.
"Supreme Master Argo, you called for me?" he began, as the sound of hammering ceased instantly.
The chief blacksmith raised his soot-streaked face, his expression not one of reverence—but exasperation.
"You people again?" Argo muttered, before he stood up fully, wiped his palms on a dirty rag—and without warning, bit into one of them.
*RIP*
The sharp snap of his teeth tearing fabric echoed through the smithy.
"Are you out of your damn mind, Lord Twelfth?" Argo snapped, eyes blazing as he spat the torn rag aside and stepped forward.
Noir blinked, caught off guard not by the words, but by the sheer hostility in the man's tone.
"Like I already explained to Lord Fourth when he came into my smithy with the same harebrained idea as you…. what you're asking for is not practical!" Argo barked, his voice thunderous now, startling several of the junior smiths nearby.
Noir frowned, but said nothing.
Argo didn't wait for a reply. He bent down, picked up two random pieces of junk metal from the forge floor, and held them up.
"Let me spell it out for you like you're a first-year at the Academy of Arcanoscience," he growled. "Teleportation has laws. Rules. Limits. The bigger the jump—the bigger the damn gate needs to be."
He held up one finger, positioning the two objects a centimeter apart.
"If I want to teleport this scrap from here to just one centimeter left, I can do that. A grain-sized portal will suffice, smaller than your thumb, and it'll work flawlessly."
He then extended the other hand, pointing skyward.
"But now… if I want to teleport this same chunk of trash from here to Planet Ixtal?" His gaze bored into Noir's.
"Then the portal required would need to be the size of this entire planet, Lord Twelfth."
He let the metal clatter to the ground.
"There's a reason instant interplanetary travel doesn't exist. The space between planets is too vast. No matter how many high-grade mana stones or divine energy cores you throw at me, the physics just won't bend."
Noir's brow twitched.
He hadn't expected miracles, but he hadn't expected the limit to be so… sharp.
"So what you're saying," he said slowly, "is that if I want a teleportation point small enough to fit in my pocket—but still capable of sending a squad in and out—then the operatives need to already be on that planet to make the jump?"
"Exactly," Argo muttered, already massaging his forehead. "Close is an understatement, they would have to be within ten kilometers, or you make the portal point larger. Much larger."
He sighed.
"I told the Fourth Elder the same thing when he tried to storm the Grand Arena with five divisions using a coin-sized gate. The damn thing collapsed and melted two of my assistants' faces off."
Noir winced.
"And don't get me wrong, we definitely have come a long way compared to the rest of the universe in dimensional travel.
We've got dimensional anchors, quantum relays, and some new hybrid magic-tech platforms. But we're still bound by the rules of space, time, and energy."
He paused for breath, then added coldly, "So no, Lord Twelfth, I cannot forge you a ping-pong ball that teleports troops from Tithia to Twin Fang."
Noir looked down, his fingers tapping his wrist.
He had promised Leo a portal. Had told him the Cult would handle the rest after he dropped the portal point inside the Black Serpents Vault, but clearly, the situation was more difficult than he'd thought.
He looked back at Argo. "So then… what can we do?"
Argo blew out a breath and walked over to his bench.
"The best I can offer you is a photo-frame-sized dimensional gate," he said. "It won't be fancy, and it'll take me at least seven more days to calibrate, but I'll make it portable and durable."
Noir's expression darkened. "And the range?"
"If I push it to the absolute edge," Argo muttered, "it might let you link to a supply ship orbiting near Twin Fang. Something small. Something close."
He met Noir's eyes again.
"Which means, your people will need to hijack a courier vessel or a low orbit skiff if you want a realistic shot at getting back. It's doable. But the real danger… starts after the teleportation."
Noir nodded silently.
It wasn't the clean operation he wanted, but it was the best they could do.
"Well if that's the best you can do, then the soldiers will have to make the rest work from their end…..Thank you, Supreme Master" he said at last, as he bowed before turning away.
As he stepped out of the forge and the searing heat gave way to cold air, his frown instantly deepened.
This was supposed to be a secure and easy mission after Leo dropped off the portal point.
However, today just seemed to be a day full of unnecessary headaches.
"It's a good thing that Supreme Master Argos is the most talented blacksmith we have, a pioneer in both dimensional and missile technology—because with that attitude, no one would tolerate him otherwise," Noir muttered.
"Realistically, it's going to be far more difficult for Skyshard to smuggle a photo frame-sized device into the vault room compared to something pocket-sized. But I suppose he'll just have to step up his game."
He paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"The same applies to the operatives completing the heist. They'll have to adapt quickly and manage far more variables due to the teleportation's limited range."
Noir let out a small sigh and shook his head.
"Well, I have done everything I could to provide them with the best resources available. The rest is in their hands now."
Noir said at the end, as he shrugged his shoulders and began thinking about other important issues now, which was how to deal with the labour unions once he went back to Planet Vorthas.
In his mind, he was working to the edge of his abilities and doing the best he could for the Cult and its people, however, while his intention to help the Cult was indeed present, his methods to achieve desired results were most definitely questionable.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC368: Spying
Chapter 368: Spying
(Fourth Elders Private Office)
The spy bowed low, his figure draped in a black robe that seemed to shift and shimmer with each breath he took, the spell-woven fabric muting all sound as he stepped forward into the chamber.
"The Twelfth Elder visited Supreme Master Argo's forge this afternoon," the spy reported calmly, his voice steady but hushed. "He requested the construction of a dimensional portal point."
The Fourth Elder's eyes narrowed.
"For what purpose?" he asked, fingers steepled beneath his chin.
The spy hesitated, then lowered his head even further. "The exact objective wasn't disclosed, but from what I gathered through observation and chatter at the forge—it appears they are planning a heist. Possibly to retrieve something important from enemy territory. The level of discretion they're operating under strongly suggests it."
The room was silent for a moment.
Only the soft ticking of the elder's ancient chronometer echoed faintly in the corner of the room.
"I see," the Fourth Elder replied after a pause, his voice unnervingly calm. "You've done well. You may go."
The spy bowed again, backed out of the room without a sound, and closed the ornate doors behind him.
And then—
*CRASH*
The Fourth Elder erupted.
His sleeves flared as he violently swept every document, relic, and instrument off his desk in one furious motion. Glass shattered on the floor, ink splattered across the ivory tiles, and sealed scrolls tumbled like dead leaves onto the ground.
"Damn him!" he roared, pacing across the room with fists clenched.
"That pretentious puppet—he's actually doing it. He's moving for the scroll! While I waste time here building influence and hiring instructors, he's closing in on making his candidate the next Dragon, like a street-rat schemer!"
He ran a hand through his slick hair, breaths shallow and nostrils flaring.
"If he succeeds it will be over for me…"
"He who controls the Dragon controls the Cult.
The First Elder rose to prominence only because of his hold on Noah.
If I ever want to become the new First Elder, then I must have my own Dragon!"
His eyes blazed with fury and panic, his mind already racing through contingency plans, informants, and blackmail options.
Because if the Twelfth Elder retrieved that scroll before the agreed timeline—
Then the balance of power within the Cult would shift permanently.
And Fourth Elder had no intention of playing second fiddle to that smug bastard.
Not now.
Not ever.
"I need to get to the bottom of this… I don't want to cost the Cult an opportunity to retrieve that skill scroll, but I don't want Lord Twelfth to win either…." He mused, as he began planning counter strategies of his own.
———————–
(Meanwhile Leo, Twin-Fang Planet)
After sending his list of demands to the Cult, Leo returned to his usual routine, immersing himself once more in daily training with the Codex.
Each day, he wandered the streets of Twin Fang for hours, silently studying the emotional spectrum of those around him, as he gradually expanded his search for the sixth color.
Although this had been part of his routine even before his journey into the Time-Stilled World, the difference between now and then was now impossible to ignore.
Back then, he had seen nothing while walking through the city. Not a flicker of color. Not a hint of a single shade.
But now, with the progress he had made with the codex within the time-stilled world, results had finally begun to show.
The same streets that looked colourless before, now came to life with scattered traces of red, pink, maroon and blue, revealing the emotions he had already learned to identify.
For the most part, he could not spot any color on the majority of pedestrians passing him.
But once in a while he could now catch a glimpse of Maroon when an assassin who was walking a bit too briskly brushed past him.
Or
A hint of light blue, when a woman walked out of a beauty parlour, looking fresh and beautiful.
'My time within the Time-Stilled World has really helped me understand emotions!' Leo realized, as he could distinctly remember how he struggled to spot a single color in his surroundings before the trip, but could see them on the regular now.
He kept walking, weaving his way past clustered intersections and street-side stalls, his eyes subtly scanning the flow of bodies around him.
A tired old man dozing near a spice stand showed no color.
The pair of twin brothers sparring outside a training hall showed no color.
Even the assassin sitting quietly on a rooftop, watching him with half-lidded eyes showed nothing.
But then a child ran past him, her arms outstretched like wings, as she chased a small puppy off its leash, as for just a second, Leo caught a flicker of pink trailing behind her. Faint, but unmistakable.
'Only children and dogs love unconditionally…' He thought, as he smiled faintly and continued walking.
Later, he caught a thick red in his surroundings, as a tall, broad-shouldered assassin brushed past a courier and kept walking like nothing happened—yet a thick streak of blood red clung to his back like smoke trailing a blade.
Leo slowed his pace slightly, eyes narrowing.
'This is not normal.'
Unlike the earlier fleeting flashes of red he'd seen from those simply irritated or defensive, this one didn't fade. It lingered. Heavy. Saturated.
He tilted his head slightly, wondering if the man had just received some disturbing news. Or perhaps he was stewing in rage from a conversation earlier that day.
But that wasn't it.
The shade was too thick. Too intent.
It didn't tremble or fade.
Like the murderous intent was a constant on the man's mind.
'He might actually kill someone today…' Leo thought, his expression unreadable.
'I guess there's only one way to find out.' He concluded, as to satisfy his own curiosity, he began to follow him.
The man made no unnecessary stops. He didn't check for tails. Didn't deviate or hesitate. Just walked through the outer districts of Twin Fang City with a constant rhythm and eventually slipped out past the city's perimeter without drawing attention.
Leo stayed far behind to avoid detection, but always within sight as he tailed him relentlessly.
Nearly two hours passed before the assassin reached a quiet countryside bridge, nestled between two broken farmlands just beyond the hillside. The sky had already begun to dim into orange, shadows stretching longer as the sun dipped lower.
When he spotted another figure that was waiting there…. Perhaps for that man himself.
The two exchanged a package. Quick. Precise.
No handshake. No warmth. Just a transaction.
Leo watched from the treetops above as the assassin reached out with one hand—and without a moment's warning—slit the other man's throat clean.
No words spoken.
No hesitation.
Just one move.
The body dropped with a dull thud, followed by the faint splash of blood spilling between the wooden planks of the bridge.
As it was only after the deed was done, that the red clinging the man started to fade slowly.
Leo remained crouched, expression calm, his hands resting lightly on his knees.
'So it was murder, after all.'
He watched the assassin walk away slowly, pocketing the package and vanishing back toward the city like nothing had happened.
'That shade of red…'
It hadn't lied.
When the red refused to fade, it meant murder afterall, as Leo managed to deepen his understanding of the codex because of this incident.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC369: Delivery
Chapter 369: Delivery
(7 days later, Twin Fang Planet, Leo's Apartment)
It was 9 a.m. and Leo had just returned from his morning walk.
Now back in his room, shirtless and doing push-ups, he was mid-way through a set of 200 when—
*Knock* *knock*
"Delivery for Leo Skyshard!" called a voice from outside the door.
The voice sounded loud and bored, the kind that had done this a thousand times already in his life, which gave Leo the impression that this wasn't a trap, as he walked towards the door without reaching for a weapon.
*Tok*
Being cautious still, he opened the slit of his door and peeked outside, as only after he confirmed that the delivery man had no warrior aura at all, did he finally open the door.
"You're Leo Skyshard?" The delivery man asked, as Leo nodded, and eyed the package behind him.
It was massive, and looked like a boxed TV unit, as for a moment Leo felt confused as to what it was?
"Need your thumbprint here, Mr. Skyshard," the courier muttered without looking up from his data screen, as he tapped a few buttons and turned it towards Leo to get his biometrics.
*Tap*
Leo complied, but not before checking the sender's tag etched into the box's digital label, as he read the sender's name to be 'Muiyan Faye'.
Of course, Muiyan Faye was a moniker that he recognized instantly, for it was Mu Fan's alias when she was his instructor at Rodova.
'So it's from the Cult–' Leo thought, as he moved out of the way for the courier guy to drop it inside his house.
*Thunk*
The package made a soft thunk as the courier gently slid it into the apartment before turning to leave.
"Have a good day then, Sir" He said, as Leo gave him a small nod, then shut the door behind him, silence falling once again in his room.
He stood in front of the box for a second, arms folded.
Then, without much ceremony, he ripped it open.
And froze.
Inside, cushioned in thick mana-treated foam, was a photo-frame-sized rectangular slab, about as large as a small TV screen, if not a bit heavier and thicker.
Metal corners reinforced it. Its back pulsed faintly with embedded rune channels, and the entire thing looked more like a siege weapon than a dimensional portal point.
"You've got to be kidding me," Leo muttered, staring at the object like it had just insulted his intelligence. "They actually want me to carry this inside the Vault?"
He crouched, inspecting the reinforced corners, the density and the ridiculous weight distribution of the frame, before reaching the conclusion that there was no way this would pass unnoticed through the Black Serpents Security, as let alone fooling a proper security scan, this would probably not even fool the guards stationed outside.
"Idiots… I'm working with idiots," He sighed—and then noticed a slim envelope wedged into the packaging, as he unsealed it with growing frustration.
—
"To the agent in charge of this drop:
This is a bi-directional dimensional gate. You are to place it within your target location and activate it using the accompanying core. Do not misalign it. Do not move it after calibration. It is fragile and dangerous once powered.
Detailed instructions on how to align and power it are attached in the form of a drawing on the backside of this message.
– Supreme Master Argo."
—
Leo's head tilted slightly, brow furrowing as he flipped the paper and saw a detailed diagram on how to connect the power core to the frame and how to then secure it to a wall.
Along with it, he found the small energy core in the middle of the foam packaging, which although being palm sized, still hummed with incredible energy.
He stared at both objects in silence.
And then the headache began.
"You've got to be kidding me, I really am working with idiots!" he repeated, louder this time.
This entire plan was already a nightmare.
He was a cult agent infiltrating cult technology into a dangerous assassin organisation vault, however, now that technology had turned from a small pocket sized object that he was promised into a heavy TV-sized frame, that was half his height and twice the weight.
"Fuck me!" He muttered, as he leaned against the wall, ready to make an early morning rant call to Mu Fan—when he spotted something else tucked beneath the frame.
A smaller box, no bigger than his fist.
He opened it cautiously, as inside he found a spherical black object the size of a keychain, that was smooth and cold to the touch, and had another folded note taped to it.
—
"Figured your politician who probably gave you this mission didn't think about how you would get it to your desired location, so this is something extra I'm sending with the package.
It's another Dimensional Portal, with a working range of 10 kilometers.
It doesn't have a mana presence and it's untraceable.
If you eat it 2 days before the mission, you can probably pass any security check and make it to the other side safely.
It's durable so don't worry about your stomach acid damaging it. But you may have to hold your bowels till you're ready to bring it out.
Once out, you may use your own mana to activate it, and it should allow you to retrieve this frame, if you follow the instructions I have drawn on the back of this letter.
Good luck.
– Argo."
—
Leo blinked. Then let out a quiet breath. Not quite a laugh— but close.
"Well… at least one of you idiots had a brain," he muttered, placing the orb on his desk and giving it a slight roll with his fingertip.
For all the incompetence and high-handedness the Cult liked to operate with, this Argo fellow seemed to know how to cover for their messes.
And oddly, Leo felt… calmed by that.
He glanced back at the frame, then at the orb, before finally looking at the back end of the second letter which showed a complex diagram on how to set up the photo frame just above a drawn portal array, that would provide a connection for a short duration of 20 seconds when activated.
He could theoretically use that connection window to grab the frame and bring it inside the vault to then complete the remaining steps of the mission, however, it wasn't going to be easy for sure.
It was still going to be a logistical nightmare to complete this mission— and a severe loss of moral integrity if he really had to swallow and poop out the portal ball, however, at least now, he had a viable method to complete the mission.
"Alright," Leo said under his breath. "I guess we're doing this."
He gathered the documents, repacked the orb, and dragged the heavy frame to the corner of the room, propping it up against the wall, just beside his storage cabinet.
There were still details to iron out, such as the mission timing, plan B if things went wrong, an exit strategy, etc, but at least now he had the tools he needed to carry out this mission.
Contact - ToS
Timeless AssassinC370: A Tail
Chapter 370: A Tail
(Twin Fang Planet, Black Serpent Headquarters, Vice-Guildmaster Antonio's Office)
Antonio sat behind the long wooden desk of his office, hands clasped and eyes narrowed, as the elevator door hissed open.
*Hiss*
Captain Reema entered with calm, deliberate steps.
Her silver hair was neatly braided down her back, her robes were spotless, and her gaze was razor-sharp, as though, despite surviving the chaos of the Time-Stilled World, she still hadn't lost her sanity.
*Bow*
She bowed respectfully before Antonio, her posture dignified.
"At ease," Antonio said, motioning to the chair across from him. "I hope you're not plagued by too many nightmares, Captain."
Reema sat, spine straight. "Haha, of course I am, Vice-Guildmaster. It's not easy returning to civilian life after that place… but I'm holding up. The taint didn't get to me too badly."
Antonio studied her closely, noting the steadiness in her voice and the absence of tremor in her hands. No signs of trauma—at least not on the surface.
"I've summoned you here because Leo Skyshard claims that you and your team were present when he killed Transcendent Karl Maxtern. Is that true?"
Reema nodded without hesitation. "It's true, sir. I witnessed it myself."
Antonio raised an eyebrow, visibly taken aback. "You saw it with your own eyes?"
"My unit was under heavy attack," she said, voice firm. "Leo appeared out of nowhere. And in a flash, Karl was dead. Just like that. One clean strike. No wasted movement. If he hadn't stepped in, I wouldn't be here."
Antonio blinked slowly, digesting her words.
"He had no outside help?"
"None that I could see," Reema confirmed. "He handled it alone."
Silence settled between them as Antonio continued to evaluate her, expression unreadable.
"You're absolutely certain?"
"As certain as I am sitting here, sir."
He nodded slowly, then leaned back into his chair. "That'll be all, Captain."
Reema stood, gave a crisp salute, and exited the room without another word.
Left alone, Antonio exhaled through his nose, the silence feeling heavier than before.
"So… the kid really pulled it off….." He mused, as something about this whole situation did not add up for him.
"The kid has a clean background, but somehow I don't buy his story.
A boy as talented as him joining the Black Serpents by leaving Rodova early? And then instantly going to the Time-Stilled World, from where he has no guarantee of return?
I don't believe his story. Nor his motive to be here.
With his fame, he should be taking life easy, or training to improve his skills.
But the desperation with which he's improving, suggests that he has a hidden agenda that I'm not aware about.
Also, his request to choose an item from the vault instead of picking 6.5 billion MP is also suspicious.
He can buy any item of his choosing for 6.5 billion MP from the open market, or hire the best blacksmiths to make a custom one, but he's going into the Vault regardless.
Why?
Why? Go in the vault when there are only three items in there that are probably unique and priceless, two of which would be made off limits to him…..
It makes no sense.
Something about the boy's actions does not add up!" Antonio talked to himself, as he did not feel at ease about allowing Leo to enter the vault.
On one hand, he couldn't deny Leo the right to enter either, because that would undermine the guild's integrity and damage its foundations.
However, on the other hand, he couldn't shake off his suspicions either.
With Leo openly defying the Evil Cult, not once but twice, Antonio could not link him to the Cult, but somehow he did not trust that the boy had no hidden agenda at all.
"The only people desperate enough to enter the vault regardless of the price, are the Evil Cult Operatives.
They want their scroll back so bad, they will go to any lengths to get it.
But the boy doesn't seem to have links to the Cult.
But if not them. Then who?
Why would someone request to enter the Vault and not take the cash?" Antonio mused, when the elevator door to his office hissed open again.
*Hiss*
This time a tall man entered his room, his expression neutral as he looked into Antonio's eyes before bowing.
"So Fredrick, what did you find by tailing the boy the past few days?" Antonio asked, as the spy who had been tailing Leo for the past few days presented his report.
"The boy is strange. He spends most of his day aimlessly walking through the streets of Twin Fang, looking at what strangers are doing, like an old man out on a morning walk.
He doesn't train his physical combat skills, nor does he do much exercise.
He just walks.
Visits expensive restaurants.
And sleeps" Fredrick reported, as Antonio frowned at his words.
"What kind of a Circuit champion doesn't train his body?" Antonio asked, sounding worried, as he found Leo's behaviour to be increasingly suspicious.
"The boy is weird, but he's not doing anything illegal, or meeting anyone suspicious.
He received a package today, but when I ran the name it seemed to be from his professor at Rodova. So it's understandable.
I haven't performed a security sweep of his room, but if you want me to, I can break into his apartment when he's out on a walk and give it a thorough search—" Fredrick suggested, as Antonio nodded and gave him the thumbs up.
"Do that and let me know what you find.
I guess the boy being a strange loner is not a problem….. he's clearly a genius, and all geniuses are a bit eccentric and unusual.
But I need to make sure that he can be allowed to enter the Vault before I let him in, because I can't afford to invite a wolf into a sheep pen" Antonio instructed, as Fredrick bowed and turned to leave.
"I hope for your sake Skyshard, that you really are as innocent as you look, because if not, I'd find great satisfaction at saving the guild 6.5 billion MP in reward price money…." Antonio said, as he let out a deep breath and looked outside the glass window of his office, where he enjoyed the view of the sun setting over the city skyline.
For a moment, as the sun dipped lower beyond the skyline, Antonio wondered if he was simply overthinking.
Perhaps Leo truly was just an eccentric prodigy, haunted by something unspoken, driven by motives that weren't sinister but personal.
But in Antonio's experience, there was never smoke without fire, and the fact that his instincts flagged Leo as a threat, was smoke enough for him.
*Glug*
*Glug*
Antonio stood and poured himself a drink from the cabinet near the window, the amber liquid catching the last rays of sunlight.
"I'll give you your chance, boy," he muttered to himself. "But I'll be watching."
Because in the Black Serpents, trust wasn't given. It was earned, bled for, and proven over time.
And the Guild's Vault was no place for secrets.
If Leo had even a single hidden intention… Antonio intended to find it, drag it into the light—and crush it before it became a problem the guild couldn't contain.
Contact - ToS