Hitman with a Badass System

As soon as Saber dealt the final blow to Quintus, chaos erupted in the aftermath. The Spartan soldiers of Gisel, driven by their duty to capture anyone associated with the Dark Lord, found themselves facing the very embodiment of their mission. Their spears were raised, forming a defensive barrier around Michael and Saber, unsure of how to confront the Dark Lord himself.

In that critical moment, Michael’s actions surprised them all. Instead of unleashing his wrath upon the soldiers, he defied their expectations and ascended gracefully into the sky. The soldiers watched in awe as the Dark Lord vanished from their sight, leaving behind a lingering sense of both relief and bewilderment. The encounter challenged their preconceived notions and left them questioning the nature of their mission.

Upon arriving at the dark castle, Michael wasted no time. He swiftly made his way to the portal room, its eerie aura beckoning him toward the unknown. With Elidyr by his side, they stepped through the swirling vortex, entering the realm of their secretive forge.

In the dimly lit chamber, Michael carefully arranged the five armor pieces upon a sturdy table. He scrutinized each fragment, his eyes tracing the intricate details alongside Elidyr. Together, they embarked on a meticulous examination, seeking to unravel the secrets embedded within the ancient relics.

Elidyr’s voice echoed through the forge, tinged with uncertainty. “There must be additional armor pieces. These five alone won’t suffice to forge a complete armor.”

Michael had always sensed a lingering incompleteness about the collection of armor pieces. Even at best, assembling them would only result in a partial chest plate. Silently, he picked up the five fragments, carefully aligning them together like an intricate puzzle. As the pieces interlocked, a subtle transformation occurred—the armor emanated a dim, crimson glow. A slender tendril of ominous dark smoke escaped from the assembled armor pieces, swirling and coalescing into a tangible sentence.

The words materialized before Michael and Elidyr, their meaning etched into the air: “Do not rely on me for everything. Forge your own path and armor. These five fragments are merely a small part of a greater puzzle. Complete your armor according to your own life and future.”

The message hung in the forge, its weight sinking into Michael’s consciousness. He felt a mixture of intrigue and determination, realizing that he had to embark on his own journey to shape his destiny and create a formidable armor that aligned with his individual path. The challenge was clear—to find the missing pieces and forge a unique armor that reflected his own life’s journey.

“Damn. Sometimes I can be a real asshole huh,”

Michael let out a frustrated sigh, feeling a mix of irritation and self-reflection. It dawned on him that the previous Dark Lord had deliberately left him with incomplete armor, placing the burden of completing it squarely on his own shoulders. The realization gave him a glimpse into the complex and sometimes manipulative nature of his predecessor.

Meanwhile, Elidyr seemed unperturbed by the previous Dark Lord’s intentions as he focused his attention on the armor pieces. His fingers delicately traced the surface, exploring every crevice and contour. With a sense of excitement, he beckoned Michael to take a closer look.

“Look here, my lord,” Elidyr pointed to the seemingly plain black surface of the armor pieces. At first glance, Michael saw nothing remarkable, but as he peered closer, his eyes discerned the presence of minuscule, intricate runes. These markings, invisible to the naked eye, adorned the surface of the armor pieces, their purpose and meaning concealed within their cryptic forms.

Curiosity piqued, Michael turned to Elidyr, his eyes filled with anticipation. He sought the runemaster’s expertise, hoping for insights into the enigmatic runes etched upon the armor pieces. However, to his astonishment, he noticed a flicker of fear in Elidyr’s expression, an unease that sent a ripple of concern through Michael’s mind.

“What do these runes signify?” Michael inquired, his voice laced with both intrigue and a tinge of apprehension. He expected Elidyr, as the sole runemaster in the service of the previous Dark Lord, to possess knowledge beyond his own.

Elidyr hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice tinged with a mix of caution and genuine surprise. “These runes… they surpass any complexity and power I have encountered in my years of study. I can’t claim them as my own. They bear an uncanny resemblance to the runes you once entrusted me to engrave in the mortar. It’s highly likely that these runes are the handiwork of the previous Dark Lord.”

Michael’s mind spun with possibilities as he considered the implications. His previous self, having delved into the realm of rune mastery, had left a mark on the very armor he now held. Yet, the intensity of fear reflected in Elidyr’s eyes puzzled him.

“Are you suggesting that my previous self became a master of runes?” Michael mused aloud, his voice laced with intrigue. As he mulled over the notion, he couldn’t shake the disquieting realization that there was more to these runes than met the eye. The aura of fear surrounding Elidyr only deepened the mystery, prompting Michael to probe further.

Eager for clarity, Michael pressed on, his tone laced with a mix of curiosity and concern. “But why do you appear apprehensive, Elidyr? Surely, my previous self’s proficiency with runes should be a cause for celebration.”

Sensing Elidyr’s underlying unease, he sought to understand the source of his runemaster’s flustered demeanor.

“Let’s assume that my previous self inscribed these runes upon the armor. But I can’t help but notice your unease,” Michael probed, his voice filled with a mix of intrigue and a desire for clarity.

Elidyr, his eyes fixed upon the intricate runes, took a deep breath to steady himself. He carefully weighed his words, fully aware of the gravity of the situation.

“If my understanding of these runes is accurate,” Elidyr began cautiously, “they serve a purpose beyond their mere existence. They seem to possess the power to subdue a malevolent, dark energy emanating from these very armor pieces.”

A chill crept down Michael’s spine as he contemplated the implications of Elidyr’s revelation. The notion of dark energy intertwined with his previous self’s creation sent ripples of both apprehension and intrigue through his mind. However, to Michael’s surprise, his own calm demeanor seemed to irk Elidyr, who displayed a hint of irritation.

“Dark energy, intertwined with the legacy of the Dark Lord. It does seem fitting,” Michael mused, shrugging off the implications with a nonchalant gesture. Yet, Elidyr’s response and lingering unease prompted him to delve deeper into the matter, seeking a more thorough understanding.

However, Elidyr’s exasperation could not be contained as he shook his head, a subtle flicker of irritation coloring his expression. It was evident that Michael’s composed façade in the face of potential danger was testing the runemaster’s patience.

“Please, my lord, this is no time for indifference,” Elidyr implored, his voice tinged with a mix of urgency and concern. “We must not underestimate the gravity of this dark energy. It possesses a potency that can lead to unforeseen consequences.”

As Elidyr voiced his concerns about the dark energy, an eerie aura permeated the forge, causing the space around Michael to distort. Sensing a presence, he turned his gaze over his shoulder, only to find Eve entering the forge with a sense of urgency.

“I need something-” Eve began, her words abruptly halting as her eyes fell upon the foreboding sight of the armor pieces. A pallor washed over her face, her body trembling involuntarily. In her alarmed state, she rushed towards Michael, nearly toppling several tools from the table in her haste.

𝞸𝒱𝑙xt.𝗇𝓔t

Panic filled Eve’s voice as she pressed her trembling hand against Michael’s shoulder. “Where did you obtain these? They must be discarded immediately!”

Michael, puzzled by Eve’s vehement reaction, attempted to assuage her fears, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and reassurance. “Calm yourself, Eve. These are the very armor pieces I spoke of, left to me by my previous self five thousand years ago. Why does their presence terrify you as well?”

Eve’s wide-eyed expression reflected her genuine terror as she desperately conveyed her first-hand experiences. “These armor pieces exude the same corruptive energy I witnessed within the dark crystal from the dwarves. It possesses an insidious force that twists and corrupts, transforming even the noblest of beings into mindless fiends consumed by an insatiable thirst for power. We cannot allow this darkness to take hold. We must rid ourselves of these accursed pieces before they taint our very souls.”

Elidyr nodded in agreement with Eve, understanding her concerns. He turned to Michael with a serious expression, his voice filled with caution.

“I see the wisdom in Eve’s words, my lord. These runes indeed hold the power to subdue the malevolent energy emanating from the armor pieces. However, I fear that wearing armor infused with these five pieces may pose a great risk. It would be wise to dispose of them and seek alternative means to forge a new armor for your protection,” Elidyr implored, his eyes reflecting his earnest desire for Michael’s safety.

He hoped Michael would heed their advice and prioritize his well-being over the allure of the powerful but potentially dangerous armor.

However, Michael couldn’t help but let out a confident chuckle, his eyes glinting with determination. He lifted one of the armor pieces adorned with a skull engraving, his emblem, which shimmered brilliantly in the warm glow of the furnace’s golden light.

“People have a habit of branding the unfamiliar as evil. But I’m no ordinary dwarf to succumb to this energy’s corruption. I am the  God of Darkness,” Michael declared with unwavering self-assurance. He embraced his identity as the God of Darkness, fully aware of the immense power he possessed, his words dripping with confidence and power.

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

With Eve and Elidyr gone, the forge was now empty, leaving Michael to immerse himself in the task of forging his armor. He cleared his mind, focusing solely on the creation before him. Taking a piece of paper, he began sketching the design of his envisioned armor.

The chest plate took shape, adorned with a fearsome skull, its crimson eyes staring out with an aura of menacing power. No longer needing to conceal his face, Michael omitted a mask, allowing the armor to cover his entire body from neck to toe.

His imagination soared as he drafted metal wings that would be seamlessly integrated into the armor’s structure. These wings would grant him the ability to defy gravity and traverse environments that hindered his arch energy, such as the treacherous Demon’s Grave. Alongside the wings, he incorporated the APD, Mark 3 grappling hook, and the Olympus, a versatile tool of immense power.

A clever addition was the spraying mechanism on his palm, enabling him to release potent toxins and poisons when needed. But what truly delighted him was the face cloak system he devised. This ingenious feature would conceal his face with a menacing skull mask, providing protection when submerged underwater or in need of shielding his head.

Not forgetting practicality, the armor boasted a majestic cape that materialized when the metal wings were closed, billowing regally. And to ensure readiness for battle, sword sheathes adorned his back, providing easy access to his trusted blades. Additionally, slots were strategically placed around his waist, ready to house an array of gadgets and tools.

As Michael completed the sketch, a sense of anticipation and satisfaction washed over him. The envisioned armor seemed to come alive on paper, embodying his dark essence and immense power. 

With the system offline, Michael knew he would have to rely on the metals available in the world to forge his armor. Luckily, his expertise as a Blacksmith granted him the ability to work with the raw materials found in his surroundings. He planned to craft the initial version of his armor using these worldly metals while reserving the option to upgrade it later with the metal ores that could be obtained from the system.

Assigning the task of locating the finest metals to his trusted subordinates, Michael set them on the mission to gather the necessary materials. Meanwhile, he took another sheet of paper and began sketching an armor design for Gaya, his soon-to-be wife.