Hitman with a Badass System

Chapter 1261  A Threat To Michael’s 100% Track Record?

Gaya, assessing the situation with a strategist’s eye, queried Michael about the timing of their escape. “Have they breathed in the potion long enough? It’s time to get Phoenix out of there,” she said, her concern for Phoenix’s safety paramount.

Michael nodded in agreement but couldn’t help being drawn to the intricately designed purple cage adorned with glowing golden runes that Borgin’s team had constructed. “That cage might be worth taking,” he suggested, eyeing the potential in the artifact before them.

Gaya hesitated, her gaze following Michael’s. “I don’t know… It seems like it’s only useful for caging beasts. And once I advance further in my godhood, we won’t need to cage beasts anymore, which kind of defeats the point of being the fucking Goddess of Monsters,” she reasoned, pondering the long-term utility of the cage.

However, Michael offered a different perspective, gently shaking his head. “You have a long way to go before reaching the higher levels of your godhood, and we’re still figuring out how to elevate it. Besides, artifacts like this cage can be modified to suit our needs,” he argued, his mind already envisioning how the cage’s runes could be altered to confine more powerful enemies as part of their contingency plans.

Realizing she couldn’t sway Michael and acknowledging the strategic merit in acquiring the cage, especially from the beast tamers she despised, Gaya found herself amused by the notion of stealing their prized possession. “Alright, let’s take it,” she conceded, signaling to Phoenix through the earpiece. “Run to the designated spot we discussed.”

Phoenix, upon hearing Gaya’s instruction, ceased his fiery assault on the traps and swiftly turned to make his escape. Thoric and the others, realizing their quarry was slipping through their fingers, cried out in frustration. “Don’t let that bastard get away!”

Borgin, however, sensed the sudden shift in the Phoenix’s behavior as more than mere coincidence. It felt orchestrated, as if Phoenix were acting on a cue. This realization sparked a wary intuition in him, suggesting they might be walking into a trap. “Retreat! Don’t chase after him,” he commanded urgently, his voice carrying the weight of his command. “We can come back later. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Borgin’s team, their adrenaline still running high from the pursuit, found themselves questioning his sudden order to retreat. “What the fuck? Why are we retreating?!”

“We can do this!” “Are you kidding me?”

They shouted back, their voices tinged with a mix of frustration and disbelief. They were not accustomed to backing down, especially not when their target seemed within reach.

However, Borgin, already retreating with deliberate steps, wasn’t swayed by their protests. “This feels like a trap,” he shouted over his shoulder, his voice firm, cutting through the heated murmurs of dissent. “The Phoenix… he could have easily turned us to ashes if he wanted, but he didn’t. He’s acting differently, and that gives me a bad feeling,” he explained, his instincts as a seasoned hunter telling him that something was amiss. As he continued to back away, Borgin’s command was clear. “Back off!” he insisted, his authority as the leader of the group asserting itself. Despite their initial reluctance, the gravity of Borgin’s words and the genuine concern evident in his tone began to take hold. The realization that they might indeed be walking into a carefully laid trap, combined with the acknowledgment that the Phoenix’s behavior was uncharacteristically passive, prompted them to reconsider their stance.

Reluctantly, Borgin’s team began to fall back, their heavy breathing a testament to the intensity of the moment. The sense of unease that had settled over Borgin was contagious, and as they retreated from the distillery district, the team couldn’t help but feel that they had narrowly avoided a situation that could have ended disastrously. As Linan and the old man observed their team’s unexpected retreat, Linan couldn’t hide his confusion. “What are they doing?” he questioned, watching in disbelief as Borgin led their retreat.

The old man, whose experience had granted him a more nuanced understanding of their predicament, speculated on the Phoenix’s power, especially given the scorched appearance of Thoric and the others. “That Phoenix might be more powerful than we anticipated,” he mused, recalling the intense heat that had washed over them minutes earlier. “We need to get out of here. Let’s take this cage down,” he decided, signaling the need for a swift departure.

“Why?” Linan, still puzzled, asked. “Just do it,” The old man said firmly, leaving no room for further questions. Together, they tapped specific runes on the cage, initiating its disassembly. Piece by piece, the cage began to collapse, each part vanishing into the silver space ring in the old man’s hand.

It was at that moment that the Phoenix reappeared, his body enshrouded in burning flames. From a distance, Borgin witnessed the Phoenix soaring through the air, diving down toward the old man and Linan with meteoric speed. “Watch out!” the old man yelled, but it was too late to evade the Phoenix’s dive. The collision was monumental, akin to a meteor strike. The impact generated a powerful shockwave, sending debris flying and causing nearby ruined buildings to shudder, further destabilizing their already fragile structures.

Amidst the ensuing chaos and thick smoke that enveloped the area, Michael seized the opportunity. Using shadow teleportation, he materialized near the old man just as the collision rendered him unconscious. With swift precision, Michael snatched the space ring from the old man’s hand.

Thoric, driven by anger and refusing to retreat without action, hurled his war axe at the Phoenix. But the Phoenix, sensing the imminent danger, quickly retreated from the attack.

“Move out! Thoric, get Linan and Davan out of here!” Borgin ordered. His command cut through the chaos, emphasizing the urgency of their withdrawal.

As the team scrambled to obey Borgin’s orders, Michael, having secured the space ring, teleported away from the scene with a discreetness that allowed him to go unnoticed in the confusion.

Eventually, Borgin and his team, weary and battered from their ordeal, reached the outskirts of Goldspire. The sight of the city walls ahead offered a momentary sense of relief. Borgin understood that, should their recent encounter have been a trap, they would find safety within the kingdom’s boundaries. Attacking them there would mean defying the will of Goddess Seshat, a transgression few would dare commit.

However, just a few meters from the city gates, where guards in fully plated armor stood vigilant, an unmistakable screech tore through the silence. It was a sound Borgin and his team had hoped not to hear again so soon, the piercing cry of a griffin.

They looked upwards, squinting against the darkening sky that loomed overhead, heavy with clouds yet stingy with rain. A large shadow moved above, ominous and swift. “Not a fucking griffin!” Thoric, recognizing the threat, exclaimed in frustration.

As if on cue, the griffin broke through the cloud cover, diving towards them with a lethal focus. The city guards, recognizing the imminent danger of a monster attack, immediately rang the alarm bell and began the procedure to close the gates.

Borgin and his team, realizing their precarious position and still carrying Linan and the old man, broke into a desperate run towards the city, their energy reserves nearly depleted from their encounter with the Phoenix and the arduous journey back. They had hoped the city’s walls would offer them sanctuary, but the griffin’s roar, powerful enough to stagger the guards attempting to seal the gate, dashed those hopes.

The griffin, undeterred by the city’s defenses, soared through the open gate, its massive form casting a shadow over the town square as it landed with a thud that echoed through the streets.

The sudden appearance of the griffin in the heart of Goldspire sent shockwaves of fear and disbelief through the gathered crowd. “A griffin, in the city!” one person shouted, their voice laced with panic. “Goddess Seshat, protect us!” another cried out, as people scrambled in all directions, seeking cover from the imposing beast that had so brazenly breached their sanctuary.

Michael and Gaya, having utilized Michael’s portable portal, had arrived in the city well ahead of the beast tamers. They wove through the buildings and the crowd, drawn by the commotion, only to witness the griffin’s unexpected assault. Immediately, they recognized the creature – it was the elder griffin.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Gaya exclaimed in shock, her plan unraveling before her eyes. Their strategy had hinged on a calculated pretense: the elder griffin and the younglings were to be caught and subsequently break free at an opportune moment to eliminate Borgin, then vanish. An outright storm through the city was never part of the equation; such action risked placing the blame squarely on the griffin’s shoulders.

Cursing under her breath, Gaya moved to intervene, but Michael’s firm grasp on her arm halted her. He shook his head, his gaze fixed on the guards converging on the griffin. “The elder griffin’s gone rogue,” Michael assessed, noting the drastic deviation from their plan. “He’s trying to take Borgin down himself. Had he stuck to the plan, they could’ve caught Borgin unawares. Now, look at this mess, the whole city’s on alert.”

“So, we’re just going to stand here and do nothing?” Gaya’s frustration boiled over as she growled with the urge to act burning within her.

“That griffin fucked up our plan. Now, all we can do is make sure he can take out Borgin without dragging us directly into the fray. If we step in now, it’ll complicate things for us. Not only would we botch the assassination contract, but we’d also end up making enemies across Sagespire. We can’t afford to alienate Seshat – she’s a potential ally we might need.”

The elder griffin’s unexpected gambit had indeed thrown their carefully laid plans into disarray, leaving them no choice but to adapt and hope for a resolution that wouldn’t jeopardize their larger objectives.

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