Hitman With A Badass System-Novel

The Skyhall soldiers who received the name demons from the wood elves took a step back. Their eyes shimmered with fear behind their helmets. Michael cracked his finger one by one. His movements were slow but contained deep hatred and killing intent. Despite the morning sun and its brightness, the place darkened when he cast the death range. Michael was already at Core Formation level 2 because of the Olympus, as the death range boosted his cultivation four levels high. Tazkin and the others felt a chill running down their spines just by hearing the crackling lightning bolts dancing around Michael. The dark sword on the ground slowly ascended into the air and landed in Michael's hands. As though the sword had sensed Michael's killing lust, it produced a myriad of lightning bolts. In the darkness, the dark swords radiated a dim red light because of the lightning bolts. The Skyhall soldiers were stupefied. They were literally in the dark, having no clue how Michael was using spells and arch energy in Itonys. These soldiers were at the bottom of the Skyhall hierarchy. Hence, they received no artifacts or scrolls that could have helped them escape Michael's wrath. The only option they had was the portal within the castle. But they doubted they would be able to move past him.

"Kill him, Dark Lord!" Thilve shouted like a wounded beast thirsting for payback. The others were too stunned after hearing the human before them was their god. Even Tazkin began regaining faith in their god, the Dark Lord. Michael slowly raised his sword toward the sky as the clear sky immediately darkened. Storm clouds as gray as ash came out of thin air, followed by rumbling thunder. Flashes of lightning struck across the sky, indicating the upcoming blood bath. Then, hundreds of black lightning bolts struck the ground. Thilve and the others quickly closed their eyes instinctively. Soon, they heard screams and felt the electricity in the air. Their neck hair stood up as they tasted blood and metal in the air. The lightning storm continued to strike down, slaughtering the soldiers on the ground.ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novelenglish.net . Fɪre.net

Hundreds of lives were snuffed out in a few minutes. All that remained on the ground was hollow, melted armor, scorched bones, and bits and pieces of the Skyhall soldiers. When Thilve opened her eyes, she couldn't believe her eyes. It took her brain a few moments to process everything that happened. They learned from the village elder that the Dark Lord was a vengeful god, and he lived up to their expectation and more. Gradually, the darkness faded away, letting the sun bathe the ground with its brightness.

In the light, the ground looked more terrifying. The ground was littered with the Skyhall soldiers' remains. Michael was happy with the output. These soldiers deserved no mercy nor the right to breathe another day in this beautiful world that belonged to him. Michael turned his gaze back to Thilve and the men,

"Collect the armor and their weapons," Michael ordered the wood elves. Their bodies moved without their consent like robots. With their nimble fingers and hands, they plucked the weapons and armor left behind by the Skyhall soldiers. Most of the armor was melted, just like their weapons. The lightning storm did a number on them. But to a talented blacksmith like Michael, it was not a big deal for him to repair the armor and weapons. The first and foremost thing on his to-do list was fixing the clothing issue. He couldn't have his future army of wood elves running around, looking like primitive monkeys.

Michael was about to head toward the castle when he heard angry growls from behind. The wood elves froze as Michael turned back to see four wolves baring their teeth. The wolves were completely stupid and oblivious to the fact Michael could kill them with a flick of his wrist.

"Hey kitty kitty," Michael teased the wolves. Step by step, the wolves approached Michael. They surrounded Michael to pounce him from every direction. Suddenly, the wolves leaped at Michael. Then, the wood elves saw a ring of dark flames like they had never seen before pulsating from Michael. The dark flames reduced the wolves to ash as their bones crumbled down to the ground before they could reach Michael.

He could have killed them using varieties of ways. Some of them were really creative and brutal. But Michael chose to kill the soldiers using the fastest way to show his overwhelming power to the wood elves. He wanted them to witness his power so they would continue to worship him and serve him loyally to their last breath. In exchange, he would protect this world and the residents as he was meant to be. Michael then looked at the sky. For some reason, he felt like his past self was smiling at him.

Leaving the wood elves to their task, Michael disappeared from their sight. The wood elves only saw a couple of black lightning bolts in the air, which trailed toward the castle. In a blink of an eye, Michael appeared in the throne hall, moving past all the soldiers outside. Lustrous braziers, half enclosing each of the ten onyx columns, lit up the lower levels of the throne hall and engulfed the throne hall in a brilliant glimmer. The paintings of vast landscapes on the arched ceiling danced in the flickering light while statues looked down upon the porcelain floor of this regal hall.

For a castle built in a hurry, they really put some effort into decorating the throne hall. Michael couldn't help wondering who was the ruler of this castle. He walked toward the noble throne of carved rock that sat twenty or thirty steps above the ground.  The throne was covered in hallowed carvings and intricate runes, and fixed on each of the broad ears was a sapphire rose. The light pillows were a light teal, and these too had been adorned with burnished sigils.

A teal rug ran from the throne down the center and looped back from both left and right while square dag banners with gilded tassels swung gently from the walls. Between each banner hung a lantern. None but a few have been lit, illuminating the portraits of angels in their perfectly forged armor. Sunlight peeked through the extensive, tinted glass windows edged by veils colored the same teal as the banners. The curtains had been adorned with impressive needlework and emblazoned edges.

Michael walked around the throne hall like he owned the place. He could hear the heavy boots clanking as the skyhall soldiers rushed into the throne hall. The soldiers were still contemplating what had just happened. A few minutes ago, several things happened at once. First, they were patrolling the castle grounds as usual. Then, they saw the sky darken, followed by a violent lightning storm, something they had never seen before in this world. The lightning storm lasted for a few moments before completely vanishing into thin air. They wanted to check the place, but before they could do it, they saw a strong breeze of wind moving past him. Then, they saw a bolt of lightning heading into the throne hall.

To their shock, they saw a human roaming around the throne hall when they entered. They never saw him enter the castle. Still, he was there. The only explanation of how he entered the throne hall was by using a spell that defied the rule of this world. Something was wrong, very wrong. The soldiers could feel it. Since these soldiers were stationed away from the Skyhall for so long, they didn't recognize Michael as the Dark Lord. The soldiers surrounded Michael with their swords and speared pointed at him.

Michael stopped at the bottom of the stairs to the throne and turned back.

His eyes searched among the armored soldiers for their leader. He expected someone from a higher rank to appear before him soon. As he expected, a tall man wearing full metal armor walked through the soldiers. He was armed to the teeth. The man slowly removed his helmet, revealing his elven features and striking golden hair.

"Who are you?" The elf spoke with a gritty tone that showed no warmth whatsoever. Not that Michael expected the elf to be warm when he was trespassing. If it wasn't for the question of how he entered the castle without their knowledge, Michael was sure the elf would have ordered his men to take him down by now. For a moment, Michael did not give the elf any answer. He kinda kept the elves and the other soldiers in the dark. Then, Michael cracked his neck and knuckles.

"You are a human. Aren't you a long way from home?" asked the elf.

"So there are humans in this world?" Michael asked the elf slowly.

His words confused the elf a bit. What did he mean by in this world? The elf questioned himself. As someone who spent more time in Itonys than Michael, the elf knew the humans lived far away in small groups. Unlike the cultivation continents, humans were a minority here. They rarely traveled outside their tribes. Yet the elf noticed a human roaming around the castle as he owned the place. Furthermore, the elf was still struggling to grasp how he entered the castle and whether he used arch energy or not.

"You are trespassing. It's a crime punishable by death," The elf threatened Michael.

"I could say the same to you," said Michael as the elf frowned.

"You trespassed my world. So can you blame me for thinking about killing you all?"

Somehow, the human's words did not feel like an empty threat.

"Your world?" The elf creased his sword-like brows.

"Someone hasn't done his research. Anyhow, tell the ruler of this place to meet me here, and I will make your deaths as painless as possible," Michael shrugged. Pity he wouldn't get any experience points for killing them, but he at least received badass points. At that moment, he had other concerns, like finding the one who rules this castle. The Orc Tar served someone, and Michael wanted to know who.

In the elf's eyes, the human didn't seem like the person who could be reasoned with or the one who would stand down. He knew a battle was inevitable. As he was about to issue an order to take him down, a majestic voice echoed through the hall.

"Stand down,"