Hitman with a Badass System

(Forgive this idiot author for not editing the previous chapter properly when I first published it. I rewrote the chapter completely and add few more exciting things to the chapter. Please read the previous chapter 963, before continuing to read the below chapter)

Venturing into the dark, newly built, and dimly lit underground cellar beneath Caius’s home, Salesi descended further into its eerie depths. The air within was heavy and tainted, carrying the unmistakable stench of blood, a testament to the horrors that had unfolded within these confines.

As Salesi cautiously advanced, the flickering light of torches revealed a macabre sight. The ground was stained with dried blood while fresh puddles glistened ominously. Chains hung from the walls, bearing the scars of countless struggles, evidenced by scratch marks and lingering traces of crimson.

A bone-chilling symphony of gnawing and croaking sounds filled the air, a chilling reminder of the torment inflicted upon unfortunate victims held captive within this dismal underworld. Salesi’s steps faltered as a movement caught her attention, drawing her gaze to the dancing shadows. Amidst the obscurity, bolts of crimson-red lightning flickered, casting an eerie glow upon a tall figure.

The atmosphere grew tense as Salesi’s eyes locked onto the enigmatic presence concealed within the darkness.

“We need to talk, Quintus,” Salesi’s voice resonated through the chilling air of the underground cellar. Though fully aware of the horrors that had unfolded within these very walls, she maintained an unnerving calmness in her demeanor.

As Salesi approached, the figure known as General Quintus remained motionless, seemingly unperturbed by her presence. Seizing a torch from the pillar nearby, Salesi thrust its illuminating flame into the darkness, revealing a grotesque scene. General Quintus, shrouded in tattered, misty robes, was hunched over a young man, his twisted form engrossed in a macabre feast.

General Quintus’s appearance was nightmarish to behold. Veiled beneath his ragged attire, he donned a menacing metal chest plate adorned with an intricately engraved skull. The chest plate seemed to pulsate with minuscule, crimson-red bolts that danced in an otherworldly fashion. His disfigured countenance was a horrifying sight, with decaying flesh peeling away from his face, exposing raw, oozing wounds. Trails of blood streamed down his neck and eyes, while only a few stray strands of hair clung desperately to his scalp. His emaciated frame exuded an aura of terror, evoking a chilling sense of dread.

Despite the terrifying visage before her, Salesi maintained her composure, steeling herself for the conversation that lay ahead. She knew that engaging with General Quintus, despite the horrors he embodied, was crucial in unraveling the mysteries that plagued their world.

“Disturb not my feast, woman,” Quintus snarled, his fangs deeply embedded in the young man’s neck, extracting the lifeblood with a gruesome hunger.

Suppressing her revulsion, Salesi maintained her composure, a necessary sacrifice in her quest for allies and powerful figures to bolster her shadow clan’s fight against the Dark Lord. The sight of Quintus, an abomination of nature, was a reminder of the dark forces she had to navigate.

“Quintus, I warned you about wearing those cursed armor pieces,” Salesi spoke, her voice laced with a hint of concern. Leaning against a pillar, she observed the frailty that plagued Quintus. She knew all too well that his vampiric regeneration alone would not sustain him indefinitely.

Desire gleamed in Quintus’s eyes as he released his hold on the lifeless husk of the young man. The once vibrant, plump body had withered into a desiccated shell, drained of all vitality. Quintus’s elongated tongue slithered across his bloodstained fingers, relishing the remnants of his gruesome meal. His crimson eyes fixated upon Salesi, hunger still burning within.

The tense atmosphere between Salesi and Quintus hung heavy, an unspoken understanding lingering beneath their interaction. Salesi’s need for Quintus’s allegiance and his insatiable thirst for more power converged in this macabre encounter, a delicate dance between manipulation and necessity.

“The armor pieces you adorn, Quintus, were never meant for you to wear—at least not yet,” Salesi’s voice resonated with caution and concern. She stepped closer, her gaze locked onto Quintus’s deteriorating form, his body ravaged by the corruption of the dark armor.

Quintus, in his insatiable thirst for power, had succumbed to the allure of the forbidden armor. Its malevolent influence had gradually seeped into every fiber of his being, twisting and distorting him into an unholy abomination. The once noble figure was now a grotesque manifestation of decay and despair.

Only his vampiric regenerative abilities and a constant supply of blood from the unfortunate souls of Kingdom Gisel sustained Quintus’s fragile existence. The armor, however, acted as a poison, slowly consuming his body and soul with each passing moment.

Salesi’s words held the weight of knowledge and a tinge of desperation. She understood the dire consequences of Quintus continuing to wear the armor. It was a path that would lead to his eventual demise, a complete corruption of his very essence.

“We must conduct further research, Quintus, and find a way to cleanse and reforge the armor so that it may serve its true purpose,” Salesi implored, her voice tinged with urgency. “Wearing it as it is will only lead to your ultimate demise, a fate we cannot afford.”

As Salesi spoke, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Quintus. He had succumbed to the allure of power, his body transformed into a nightmarish visage of his former self.

“This armor is mine, mine alone,” Quintus snarled defiantly, dismissing Salesi’s warnings. His lips peeled back to reveal his menacing pair of elongated fangs, stained with the blood of his victims. The intensity of his gaze bore into Salesi, unyielding and filled with a feral determination.

Despite all the warnings and pleas from Salesi, Quintus stubbornly clung to the corrupted armor, his features contorted with defiance. His hissing voice and bloodstained teeth only emphasized the depth of his descent into darkness.

Undeterred by Quintus’s aggression, Salesi stood her ground, her unwavering resolve shining through. Not a trace of fear flickered in her eyes, even in the face of such a gruesome abomination.

“These armor pieces belongs to the Dark Lord’s, Quintus. He is relentless in his pursuit of what is rightfully his. If he discovers you wearing them, he will tear you apart without mercy. No armor will shield you from his wrath,” Salesi’s words carried a sense of urgency and a hint of concern for Quintus’s safety.

The truth of her words stoked a furious anger within Quintus, his bloodlust reaching its boiling point. With inhuman speed, he lunged at Salesi, driven by a primal rage. Yet, Salesi remained composed, her gaze unwavering.

In response, Salesi calmly raised the torch in one hand, its flickering flames casting an eerie glow in the dimly lit cellar. With her other hand, she summoned a swirling mist that danced through the torch’s fire, transforming it into a powerful torrent of blue flames.

As the searing flames engulfed Quintus, his anguished roar filled the air. The intensity of the fire forced him to retreat into the shadows, seeking solace in the darkness that veiled his monstrous form. There, his vampiric regeneration would work tirelessly to heal the wounds inflicted by Salesi’s flame.

Quintus’s face contorted with rage, his eyes burning with a bloodlust that seemed insatiable. “You wretched bitch! I will tear you limb from limb and feast on your flesh,” he spat, his voice dripping with venomous hatred. His words carried a gruesome promise, filled with visions of carnage and savagery.

Unfazed by the vile threats, Salesi maintained her composure, meeting Quintus’s gaze without flinching. She understood the depths of his desperation and the darkness that consumed him. With a steady voice, she attempted to reason with him. “Quintus, I am not your enemy. In fact, I am the only one who can offer you salvation from the fate that awaits you. I can help you wield the power of that armor without succumbing to its corrupting influence. You don’t have to be consumed by darkness.”

Salesi’s seemingly compassionate offer to save Quintus carried with it a hidden agenda. Beneath her calm exterior, a calculated mind was at work, analyzing every move and strategy. Her intentions were far from altruistic; she saw Quintus as nothing more than a pawn in her relentless game against the Dark Lord.

While her words hinted at redemption and salvation, Salesi’s true motivations were rooted in cunning manipulation. She saw an opportunity to exploit Quintus’s desire for power, harnessing it for her own ends. Her heart remained untouched by genuine compassion, replaced instead by a cold, strategic mind that sought to leverage any situation to her advantage.

Behind her calm demeanor, Salesi’s thoughts churned with plans and schemes, each piece meticulously arranged on the chessboard of her ambitions. She was ruthless in her pursuit of victory, willing to use anyone and anything as a means to an end. Quintus, with his immense power and thirst for blood, became just another tool in her arsenal.

In her eyes, alliances were temporary, loyalty was expendable, and emotions were mere hindrances. Salesi was a master manipulator, weaving a web of deception and intrigue, ensuring that she remained several steps ahead of her adversaries. Her actions were guided solely by self-interest, and she had no qualms about sacrificing others in her relentless pursuit of power.

Despite the maddening corruption that clouded Quintus’s mind, a flicker of rationality remained within him. Deep down, he understood the perilous truth in Salesi’s words. If he persisted in wearing the accursed armor pieces, his very existence would be devoured by their malevolent power. It was a realization that pierced through the haze of his insanity.

Quintus, in his fragmented state, grasped a fundamental truth that eluded most. The armor pieces were not meant for mortal beings, and if he could not bear their weight, then no one else could either. They were crafted specifically for the Dark Lord, their twisted design a reflection of his maleficence.𝞸𝒱𝑙xt.𝗇𝓔t

In stark contrast, Salesi, with her cunning and knowledge, recognized the armor’s true nature. She understood the irrefutable connection it held with its creator, the Dark Lord himself. It was an understanding born from her meticulous research and her unyielding pursuit of knowledge.

Quintus’s sudden desire for the armor pieces derailed Salesi’s original plan. She had intended to bring the coveted artifacts to her lair, where she could conduct extensive research and unravel their secrets. It was through this meticulous study that she hoped to unlock the possibility of someone other than the Dark Lord donning the armor pieces.

The allure of uncovering such knowledge fueled Salesi’s ambition. She understood the immense value of keeping the armor pieces out of the Dark Lord’s clutches. By preventing him from obtaining them, she could hinder his progress and impede the completion of his formidable armor.

Yet, Quintus’s insatiable lust for the accursed pieces threw a wrench into her carefully laid plans. His uncontrollable desire now threatened to snatch the armor pieces from her grasp, denying her the opportunity to delve deeper into their mysteries.

“Now, Quintus, time is running out. Remove the armor pieces and hand them over to me,” Salesi’s voice quivered with urgency. The weight of their impending danger hung heavy in the air. She needed Quintus to understand the gravity of the situation.

“The Dark Lord himself is en route to our location. His arrival is imminent,” Salesi revealed, her words laced with a sense of impending doom. The urgency in her voice conveyed the need for immediate action. They could no longer afford to linger in Gisel’s confines.

Salesi reveled in the immense advantage she held over the Dark Lord. Her meticulous scheming unfolded behind the shadows, unbeknownst to him. Secrecy was her greatest weapon, and it allowed her plans to take shape undisturbed. The Dark Lord, consumed by his own arrogance, remained oblivious to the web of deceit she spun around him or she thought.

Salesi’s every move was calculated with precision. She had purposely allowed Quintus to wear the armor pieces, using him as a testing subject to assess the true effects they would have on an individual. It was a calculated risk, exploiting Quintus’s unwavering desire for power and lust for the dark artifacts. Little did he know that his role extended beyond mere pawn; he unknowingly served as a crucial piece in her grand scheme.

She observed Quintus closely, noting the insidious changes the armor pieces inflicted upon his mind, body, and soul. His unwitting participation provided her with valuable insights and the knowledge she needed to manipulate the situation to her advantage. Quintus’s ignorance shielded her true intentions, ensuring the Dark Lord remained oblivious to her plot to bring about his downfall.

If the Dark Lord were to discover Salesi’s intricate machinations, her carefully constructed plans would crumble before her. The delicate balance she had cultivated, the element of surprise she wielded, would be shattered. The stakes were high, and Salesi guarded her secrets with unwavering determination, knowing that the very existence of her mission depended on her ability to remain hidden in the shadows.

Just as Quintus was about to remove the armor pieces, Andreas materialized beside Salesi, his expression filled with urgency and a hint of despair. Salesi, ever perceptive, read the unspoken words in his eyes. 

“We need to leave now. The Dark Lord is here, and he killed them,” said Andreas. The weight of his cryptic statement, “he killed them,” resonated within her. She quickly pieced together the puzzle, understanding the grim fate that had befallen those dear to Quintus. 

Aware that Andreas was on the brink of unraveling her carefully crafted plan with his reckless candor, Salesi desperately attempted to convey her silent warning. Her eyes pleaded with him to keep silent, to withhold the devastating truth that threatened to unleash Quintus’s fury prematurely. But Andreas, driven by his own motivations and disregard for the delicate balance she had meticulously orchestrated, flicked his wrist, summoning a silver chain adorned with a penguin pendant—a token of sentimental value.

Quintus’s eyes widened upon seeing the pendant, a visceral recognition flashing across his face. It was a precious gift, purchased by Quintus himself, presented to his beloved wife, Metilia Salinator, on their wedding day. The bloodstains that marred the chain told a gruesome tale—one of unspeakable loss and unsatiated vengeance. In that harrowing moment, Quintus’s intentions to surrender the armor pieces and maintain rationality shattered like fragile glass. Overwhelmed by a torrent of anger and grief, he unleashed a primal roar, his sole desire to tear through the walls, break free, and confront the Dark Lord.

“Fool!” Salesi’s frustration surged as she witnessed Quintus’s reckless escape, leaving the cellar without surrendering the coveted armor pieces that she had been on the precipice of persuading him to relinquish. She clenched her fists tightly, her anger and disappointment seething, and turned her gaze to Andreas.