Hitman with a Badass System

As Salesi plotted against Michael, manipulating Quintus as yet another pawn in her game, Michael found solace above the clouds, floating amidst the celestial beauty of the starry sky and the presence of three majestic sapphire moons. Amidst the chaos of schemes, vengeance, and the weight of his Dark Lord responsibilities, Michael occasionally forgot to appreciate the breathtaking wonders of this world. However, once he had vanquished his adversaries and settled his score, a burning desire ignited within him to embark on a journey to those enigmatic moons, to uncover the mysteries that lay hidden within their ethereal embrace.

While he luxuriated in the celestial beauty, a chilling reminder of his ruthless nature stained Michael’s hand—the blood of Quintus’s wife and her entire family. These were not innocent lives, for Saber had unearthed a macabre secret in their backyard—a burial ground concealing the remains of countless enslaved individuals who toiled under Quintus’s roof. However, their deaths were not solely a consequence of their actions. Michael’s unwavering devotion to safeguarding Gaya, his beloved, propelled him to eliminate any potential threat. Mercy, even towards his adversaries, held the potential to endanger the safety of his cherished one. Thus, he resolved to protect Gaya at any cost, an oath he would not allow any flicker of leniency to compromise.

“My Lord,” Azazel flew gracefully through the clouds, his eyes wide with shock and awe. He bowed before Michael, his admiration evident. The Dark Lord’s uncanny ability to foresee events had left Azazel astonished.

“Take a look at this my lord,” Azazel presented a tablet-sized mirror to Michael, a reflection of a gruesome tableau. The mirror unveiled a gory spectacle within its depths—a hall strewn with the lifeless bodies of soldiers and nobles. Blood adorned the walls in macabre patterns, leaving a chilling testament to the savagery that had unfolded. Scorch marks marred the surroundings, and once magnificent statues stood melted and disfigured by the unforgiving heat. The sheer amount of blood spilled was a testament to the carnage that had transpired.

It was Azazel’s masterful orchestration that brought about this scene, for Michael had no need to soil his hands when he had his trusted demon butler by his side. The Dark Lord’s vengeance had been unleashed upon Quintus’s wife and her father alone.

Within the mirror, amidst the crimson chaos, Azazel pointed out a hazy white figure to Michael, a presence that piqued his curiosity and confirmed his suspicions of an unknown force operating in the shadows.

“My Lord, this fleeting blur appeared for a mere moment within the hall. Initially, I dismissed it as a glitch or a stray speck of dust. However, you had foreseen its arrival,” Azazel explained, his voice tinged with intrigue. Michael’s cunning plan had unfolded flawlessly, leaving Azazel astounded.

After executing his vengeance upon Quintus’s family, Michael had left a Spyder—a small surveillance device—concealed within their home. Its purpose was to record and transmit all subsequent events. The Dark Lord harbored a suspicion that the unknown force operating in the shadows was in league with Quintus, and he anticipated their presence within Quintus’s abode upon receiving a message written in blood. True to his intuition, someone—or something—had materialized as expected.

Michael allowed a wry smile to grace his lips, pleased with the success of his plan. He quickly focused his attention on the blurry figure captured by the Spyder’s lens. With precision, he zoomed in on the image, straining his eyes to discern any discernible humanoid features. He swiped the screen, switching between different camera angles provided by the Spyders in the vicinity. Regrettably, the elusive figure manifested and vanished with such speed that none of the Spyders managed to capture a clear image.

As the blurry figure caught Michael’s attention, a flicker of recognition stirred within him, reminiscent of someone he had encountered before—Andreas. Unbeknownst to him, this ethereal presence was another iteration of Andreas, one that had met its demise at his hands. The Andreas currently aligned with Salesi had emerged from the depths of hatred for the Dark Lord, infused with the essence of hell flames. 

Nevertheless, the presence of the hazy figure served as confirmation that a formidable force was operating covertly against him. It propelled Michael further along his path toward eradicating these hidden adversaries. 

With a sense of satisfaction, Michael acknowledged the flawless execution of his plan. Now, all that remained was to bide his time, patiently awaiting the arrival of his adversaries. In his amusement, he likened their impending approach to that of a sacrificial goat, unknowingly drawn to its appointed butcher. A chuckle escaped his lips, filled with an air of sinister anticipation.

“Now, let’s just wait here and let the goat come running to its butcher,” Michael chuckled.

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

Michael devised two strategies to confront Quintus. The initial plan involved launching a surprise infiltration of Caius’s mansion, where Quintus was believed to be hiding, based on information acquired from his network of spies. The alternative plan entailed luring Quintus directly to Michael’s presence. After careful consideration, Michael opted for the latter, recognizing that this course of action would not only ensure Quintus’s presence but also provide further validation of his existing suspicions regarding an elusive entity operating against him from the shadows.

In essence, by implementing the second plan, Michael aimed to accomplish multiple objectives simultaneously, strategically positioning himself to confront Quintus and strengthen his certainty regarding the covert opposition he faced.

Moreover, Michael desired Quintus’s fate to serve as a stark warning and unmistakable message to all those who dared to align themselves with his adversaries. With a deliberate descent through the darkened skies, Michael could perceive the growing commotion emanating from Caius’s opulent mansion.

“DARK LORD!”

Suddenly, a thunderous roar pierced through the night, carried by Quintus’s commanding voice, echoing throughout the city and commanding attention from all who heard it.

Under Quintus’s tyrannical rule, a haunting darkness engulfed the once vibrant realm. The horror stories whispered among the townsfolk paled in comparison to the gruesome reality they faced. Quintus, a vampire of insatiable hunger, reveled in his sadistic reign, leaving a trail of shattered lives and broken spirits in his wake.

Night after night, young souls, lured by false promises or seized under cover of darkness, vanished without a trace. Their cries for help echoed in the shadows, unheard and unanswered. Quintus, a predator hiding under Caius’s manor, found pleasure in feasting upon the life essence of his victims. Their blood, once warm and pulsating with vitality, became his unholy elixir, prolonging his cursed existence.

The people, trapped in a web of fear, lived in constant terror. Each passing day brought fresh nightmares as their loved ones disappeared one by one, leaving behind a void of anguish and unanswered questions. The once bustling streets now lay deserted and haunted, the atmosphere thick with an eerie silence.

𝞸𝒱𝑙xt.𝗇𝓔t

Hope flickered like a dying flame as the people yearned for a savior to vanquish this monstrous fiend. Whispers of resistance circulated in hushed tones, desperate pleas for someone, anyone, to rise against the nightmarish rule of Quintus. They longed for the light of justice to pierce through the suffocating darkness that had enveloped their lives.

As the commotion echoed through the streets, a wave of fearful faces emerged from the safety of their homes. Yet, as Quintus’s roar filled the night, a subtle sense of relief washed over them. Despite the world branding Michael as the malevolent Dark Lord, the reign of his loyal servant, Caius, had brought prosperity and happiness to Gisel. Under their joint leadership, the kingdom thrived, heading toward a golden era of prosperity. Even amid rumors of Caius’s hidden allegiance to the Dark Lord, the people remained unconcerned, for their lives were filled with abundance and contentment.

During Michael’s absence in the depths of hell, a treacherous turn of events unfolded within the Skyhall. The execution team, manipulated by sinister forces, falsely accused Caius of serving the evil Dark Lord and swiftly ended his life. In a chilling twist, Quintus, a far greater malevolence, seized control of Caius’s manor, unleashing a reign of terror upon the land. The dark shadow of Quintus cast a sinister pall over the kingdom, as numerous young souls mysteriously vanished without a trace. Their lives were cruelly sacrificed, becoming nothing more than vessels of sustenance for Quintus’s insatiable thirst for blood. The people, gripped by fear and living in perpetual dread, found themselves caught between the horrors of Quintus and the tales of the feared Dark Lord so when Quintus roared the name “Dark Lord,” an ironic sense of relief washed over them.

Finally, Michael came face to face with the notorious Quintus, and the sight that met his eyes filled him with a seething rage. Quintus, in his audacity, had not only taken the life of Heinberg, one of Michael’s trusted subordinates but had also played a pivotal role in aiding the Skyhall execution team’s invasion of Gisel. The consequences of his actions were grim, leading to the execution and hanging of Caius, another loyal subordinate.

However, it was Quintus’s insolence that truly ignited Michael’s fury. The vampire had brazenly donned the two remaining armor pieces, sacred relics left by the previous Dark Lord, meant to be wielded by Michael alone. This act of defiance struck at the very core of Michael’s authority and challenged his rightful claim to power. It was an affront that would not go unanswered.

As Michael examined Quintus more closely, a mix of surprise and curiosity overtook his initial anger. The transformation that Quintus had undergone was far more extreme than Michael had anticipated. Knowing that Quintus had been turned into a vampire by Fabia Viridius under the orders of Saber, Michael couldn’t help but question the extent of the experiments conducted on him. The abomination standing before him, with twisted features and a monstrous aura, bore little resemblance to the man Quintus once was. The grotesque appearance, marked by elongated fangs, pale and gaunt features, and an unsettling aura of darkness, hinted at the depths of depravity that Quintus had descended into. Michael’s astonishment mingled with a sense of apprehension as he realized that Fabia’s experiments alone could not account for the monstrous being that Quintus had become.

Due to the manipulation of the Skyhall execution team, even the loyal soldiers of Caius were compelled to follow the orders of the newly appointed senators. When the team, in collusion with the senate, declared Quintus as the senator of defense, the soldiers had no choice but to obey. However, the soldiers and the general populace had only known Quintus before his transformation into a vampire. In their eyes, he was a ruthless Spartan general driven by a lust for conquest and the expansion of Kingdom Mirel. None of them could fathom that Quintus had long forsaken his humanity in exchange for dark powers as a vampire. Furthermore, by donning the armor pieces left by the previous Dark Lord, his soul and physical form had been irreversibly corrupted, turning him into a horrifying abomination. Thus, when Quintus made his first public appearance, emerging from Caius’s manor, the soldiers guarding the premises were left utterly shocked and horrified by the grotesque sight before them.

The sight of Quintus left the soldiers frozen in shock and disbelief, rendering them unable to move or react. None of them could recognize the once-respected spartan general in the abomination before them. However, the training and discipline ingrained within them allowed some soldiers to shake off their initial fear and attempt to confront this monstrous creature. Yet, Quintus swiftly launched himself at the soldiers, his long tongue coiling around their necks like a deadly serpent, and mercilessly sank his fangs deep into their vulnerable flesh. Blood was swiftly drained from the soldiers’ bodies as Quintus moved from one victim to another, his insatiable thirst fueling his growing power. Michael calmly observed the scene, his keen eyes capturing every chilling detail, noting the evident enhancement of Quintus’s strength with each life he consumed.

“My lord, permit me to vanquish that abomination,” Azazel requested, his eyes filled with determination. However, Michael gently declined, shaking his head in response.

“I have another individual who is eager for this confrontation,” Michael calmly stated, gesturing towards the ground below them as Azazel followed his gaze. To their surprise, Saber emerged, walking with an air of tranquility towards the bridge that connected the city to Caius’s manor.

“This abomination was created within one of Saber’s laboratories, and it is his responsibility to eradicate it,” Michael declared as he descended gracefully to the ground, landing with poise. With a mere flick of his wrist, his magnificent throne materialized beneath him, and he settled into it, ready to observe the impending battle between Saber and Quintus.

Despite Quintus having donned the coveted armor pieces that Michael had tirelessly sought, he resisted the urge to dispatch Quintus himself swiftly. This presented an unparalleled opportunity to witness Saber’s combat prowess firsthand. It was a crucial test for Saber, and if he proved his mettle, Michael would bestow upon him the esteemed title of the King of Nightwalkers.

Quintus, moving with unnatural agility on all fours, approached the imposing iron gates that stood as the last barrier between him and the Dark Lord. His elongated tongue writhed ominously, revealing its grotesque split end. As Quintus drew nearer, a putrid stench of decay and sulfur permeated the air, assaulting the senses of those unfortunate enough to be in close proximity. Blood oozed from his mutilated body, dripping onto the ground with a sickening rhythm.

The sight was truly macabre as Quintus’s skin peeled away, revealing raw flesh underneath. His face, once distinguished, now bore the marks of his transformation, with chunks of flesh hanging loosely from his skeletal features. The blood that seeped from his wounds mixed with the dirt on the ground, creating a vile concoction of gore and filth.

With a ferocious burst of strength, Quintus lunged at the iron gates, his clawed hands tearing into the metal with a screeching cacophony. The gates groaned under the onslaught, straining against the force exerted by this unholy abomination. In an instant, the gates crumbled, reduced to twisted remnants of their former glory.

Quintus’s gaze locked onto Saber, who stood resolute between him and the Dark Lord. Their eyes met, an intense confrontation of wills, as the air crackled with anticipation. The scene was a grisly tableau, with Quintus’s disfigured form and Saber’s unwavering determination creating a stark contrast against the backdrop of chaos and destruction.