Hitman with a Badass System

( New DBS chapter will be out tomorrow and the schedule will also be resumed)

The long-awaited day of the battle against the formidable Guardian Guild had finally arrived. Despite the immense power and history held by this ancient guild, Michael remained surprisingly calm and even found amusement in the situation. A carefree whistle escaped his lips as he strolled out of the portal room, his confidence unshaken.

Due to the tradition that prohibited him from seeing his bride, Gaya, until their wedding day, Michael couldn't help but sigh as he imagined the sheer beauty that would radiate from her when she adorned her wedding dress. With a sense of anticipation, he made his way to his temporary room, where his garments awaited him.

As Michael made his way through the corridor, his robes were tarnished with dust and dirt from the ongoing process of forging his armor. He understood the importance of looking his best when facing the Guardian Guild, a moment he had been eagerly awaiting. It was during this walk that Azazel, his loyal demon butler, approached him from one of the rooms and respectfully greeted him.

"My Lord, Lord Saber is en route to the Lord Information. We can expect to receive information about rare metals within a day," Azazel informed, his voice filled with unwavering loyalty.

"Excellent," Michael replied calmly, his focus unwavering. "I shall delve deeper into the properties of these metals and convey to Lord Saber the exact specifications required to complete my armor."

While Michael could have easily completed his armor using ordinary metals, he held an unwavering desire for both his own and Gaya's armor to be extraordinary. To achieve this, he sought the finest metals available, ones that remained concealed from his knowledge until now. Deep down, he knew that the Lord Information possessed secret insights into the unique metals that existed within this world, knowledge that he yearned to acquire.

As Michael proceeded, he inquired about the progress of the wedding preparations.

"Brother Ghost!" Suddenly, a playful and excited voice reverberated through the corridor, catching Michael's attention. A smile crept across his face as he recognized the voice. Turning around, he was met with the sight of Cindy emerging from seemingly nowhere. With uncontainable joy, she dashed towards Michael, enveloping him in a tight embrace. Jumping up, she clung to his waist, showering him with wet kisses on his cheek.

Cindy had grown considerably since they last saw each other. No longer the little seven-year-old who could barely reach Michael's knee, she had blossomed into a charming young girl. Her height now reached his waist, and her growth in power was evident as she had achieved the Core Formation stage. Yet, despite these transformations, Cindy still retained her childlike demeanor in Michael's presence. Playfully, she clung to him like a peppering him with affectionate kisses and rubbing her cheek against his.

"Oh, how much I've missed you!" Cindy exclaimed, elongating her words while maintaining her tight embrace.

"I missed you too. I'm glad you've emerged from your seclusion," Michael replied warmly. Continuing their walk together, Cindy remained perched on his waist, a symbol of their unbreakable bond.

"You know, Missy, you shouldn't act like a in front of everyone anymore. You're all grown up now," Michael gently chided, playfully pinching her nose.

"Yes, my little lady. Our Lord has a reputation to uphold as the Dark Lord," Azazel chimed in, but Cindy simply responded by sticking her tongue out and making a funny face at him.

Azazel, the lone and fearsome demon in the world, couldn't help but chuckle and sigh in amusement. To Cindy, no one could strike fear into her heart, not even the vampires. She had long become like Michael's adorable little sister, even before he ascended to the position of the Dark Lord. Even in the face of a world that trembled before the might of the Dark Lord and the Dark Queen, Cindy felt no fear. She continued to play and interact with them as she always had.

Cindy's innocent, playful, and adorable nature endeared her to everyone in the Dark army. However, her sweetness didn't define her entirely. Under the tutelage of Gaya, the Dark Queen herself, and Eve Voldiguard, Cindy received rigorous training in combat arts. Saber and Trista took charge of teaching her blood spells, while Elidyr instructed her in the mystical arts of runes. Despite her tender age, Cindy understood the harsh realities of the world, and she dedicated herself wholeheartedly to her training.

Michael, as much as he adored Cindy, didn't want to shield her from the brutalities of the outside world. Instead, he was determined to prepare her to face it head-on and stand beside him as a ruler. Even though Cindy wasn't a prodigy when she was born, Michael spared no expense or effort in cultivating her potential and transforming her into a formidable force.

"He may be the Dark Lord to others, but not to me, Uncle Azazel," Cindy replied, her tone filled with playful defiance.

"Oh, so you think I'm not a bad person, huh?" Michael teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Cindy, in response, playfully rolled her eyes, emphasizing her disbelief.

"Well, brother, if any butthole dares to call you evil in front of me, they can come eat my knuckle sandwich!" Cindy clenched her small fist and demonstrated a mock punch in the air, evoking laughter from both Michael and Azazel.

"I feel so protected," Michael chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Cindy's hair, much to her protest.

Lost in their lighthearted banter, Michael momentarily forgot about the impending war with the Guardian Guild and stepped outside the castle. As they walked, Cindy excitedly shared a funny story with Michael, recounting how she had defeated a group of vampires.

Cindy's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she began her tale. "Oh, brother, you won't believe what happened! So, I was training against a group of vampires. At first, I was a bit scared, you know, because they're all fast and strong and have those sharp fangs. But then, I thought, 'Hey, I'm Cindy, the Dark Lord's cute little sister,'"

Michael chuckled, encouraging her to continue.

Cindy grinned and continued, "So, I stood there, facing those vampires with all my might. I shouted, 'Prepare to be defeated, you bloodsucking creatures!' And guess what? They actually listened to me! I mean, who knew vampires had a sense of humor?"

Michael couldn't help but laugh at Cindy's adventurous spirit.

"And then," Cindy continued, her eyes gleaming with excitement, "I unleashed my secret weapon – the tickle attack! I tickled them with all my might, and those vampires started squirming and giggling like crazy. They couldn't even fight back because they were too busy trying to catch their breath!"

Michael burst into laughter, imagining the comical sight.

"And that's how I defeated the vampires, brother!" Cindy concluded proudly, striking a triumphant pose.

Michael clapped his hands, thoroughly entertained. "Bravo, my little warrior! You always find a way to surprise me,"

Michael stood at the edge of the floating mountain, his gaze fixed on the dark ocean swirling with multiple tornadoes. After bidding farewell to Azazel, Cindy approached him and handed him a mysterious letter.

"What's this?" Michael asked, curiosity piqued.

"I'm not sure. Aunt Adelia asked me to give it to you once I emerged from seclusion," Cindy replied, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

As Michael opened the envelope, he discovered a small, palm-sized black scale nestled within, accompanied by a letter. Unfolding the letter, he read Adelia's words carefully.

"My Lord, if you're reading this, it means I haven't returned to the castle, and you're likely searching for me. I can't disclose everything in this letter, but I have provided a secret ritual on the back that can help trace my location using this scale. Please send Azazel, and only Azazel, to me. I will explain everything upon my return."

"I wonder where she vanished to," Cindy inquired, her eyes filled with curiosity, as Michael carefully folded the letter and returned it to her.

"Cindy, I want you to take this letter to Uncle Elidyr. He will know what to do. And once you've given him the letter, go and inform Gaya that her mother is safe and will be returning soon," Michael instructed, gently lowering Cindy back to the ground.

"Alrighty then," Cindy responded, placing a hand over her heart and assuming a playful, loyal soldier stance. Michael chuckled and planted a tender kiss on her back before she set off on her mission to deliver the letter to Elidyr.

As Cindy disappeared from Michael's sight, his enchanting smile dissolved, replaced by a cold and ruthless expression. With a swift motion, he vanished from the edge of the mountain, leaving behind a trail of lightning in his wake. In an instant, he materialized in his temporary room, where all his belongings had been relocated in preparation for his impending wedding.

Before him stood a meticulously arranged wardrobe filled with an array of dark attire. Without hesitation, Michael reached for a long coat, a sleek black turtle neck, and a pair of matching trousers. With a swift flick of his wrist, he discarded his previous garments, cleansing himself with arcane energy before adorning his new attire. The transformation was complete.

Next, Michael donned his fingerless gloves, the symbols of his power and prowess. He secured his formidable dark swords upon his back, their menacing presence a clear warning to any who dared to cross his path. Slipping into the long coat, he fastened it with purpose, each button a reminder of his indomitable will. Finally, he laced up his shoes, ensuring every detail of his formidable ensemble was in place.

In this attire, Michael exuded an aura of sheer strength and determination, ready to confront the formidable challenge that awaited him: the Guardian Guild.

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

In the tranquil Hulwick Isle, a sense of anticipation hung in the air as the Guardians prepared for the imminent arrival of the Dark Lord and his formidable army. The vast expanse of the sea surrounding the island was meticulously patrolled by vigilant Guardians, their watchful presence ensuring the safety of their home. Above, the skies were adorned with the majestic airships of the Guardian Guild, standing as a testament to their strength and unity.

Yet, despite the Guardians' stern instructions to the contrary, a multitude of onlookers had gathered in the skies, hovering at a safe distance from the isle. These curious spectators, numbering in the thousands, yearned for a glimpse of the impending clash between the Dark Lord and the Guardian Guild. Ignoring the Guild's firm reminder that this was not a mere spectacle but a harrowing war. Yet, their fascination with the unfolding events outweighed their concern for their own safety.

Undeterred by the Guild's warnings, the onlookers remained steadfast in their desire to witness the clash of these colossal forces. However, they were not foolhardy, recognizing the inherent danger. Each individual maintained a safe distance, equipped with an array of gadgets and protective spells to shield themselves from the catastrophic shockwaves that would undoubtedly be unleashed.

Among the spectators, even the esteemed Empress of Awor graced the scene, accompanied by a gathering of kings and queens. The magnitude of this momentous event was not lost on them, for it was a rare occurrence to witness such a formidable war between the Dark Lord and his imposing army pitted against the Guardian Guild. Hearts raced with anticipation as the stage was set for a monumental clash that would leave an indelible mark on history.

The group of rogue cultivators and news reporters floated in the sky, a safe distance from the Hulwick island, their faces etched with fear and anticipation. The air was tense, heavy with the weight of an imminent war between the Dark Lord and the Guardian Guild. Their voices carried a sense of urgency and concern as they engaged in a somber discussion.

One of the older cultivators, his eyes filled with worry, broke the silence. "Do you think there's any chance for peace talks between the Dark Lord and the Guardian Guild? Is it possible to avoid this destructive war?"

A younger cultivator, his brow furrowed, replied, "I'm not sure. The Dark Lord has shown little inclination towards diplomacy in the past. He has always relied on his formidable power and relentless pursuit of his goals."

A news reporter chimed in, his voice filled with apprehension. "But what if the Dark Lord emerges victorious? Will he show any mercy to the Guardian Guild, especially considering his brother was the previous Supreme Guardian?"

The group fell into a contemplative silence, their gazes fixed on the distant Hulwick island. It was a moment of reflection, where the weight of family ties and the potential consequences of the war were considered.

Another cultivator, his voice tinged with uncertainty, spoke up. "We can't predict the Dark Lord's actions. His true nature is shrouded in darkness, and he has always been an enigma. But knowing their shared bloodline, perhaps there is a glimmer of hope for a resolution."

The news reporters quickly jotted down the conversation, capturing the conflicting emotions and the fragile thread of hope that lingered in the air.

A seasoned cultivator, his voice steady yet filled with doubt, added, "Even if the Dark Lord is victorious, will he spare the Guardian Guild out of familial bond? Or will he use this as an opportunity to consolidate his power and eliminate any potential threats?"

The discussions continued, the cultivators and reporters wrestling with their fears and grappling with the unknown. The sky above the Hulwick Island remained ominous, mirroring the uncertainty that permeated the conversation.

As the dialogue progressed, hope and despair intertwined, their voices echoing through the air. The rogue cultivators and news reporters floated in the sky, their shared trepidation binding them together, united in their quest for understanding amidst the impending storm.

Unbeknownst to them, the Guardians stood resolute, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. Their steadfast determination mirrored the unwavering waves beneath them, ready to face the imminent threat with unwavering resolve. The stage was set, the world poised to witness a battle that would shape the destiny of both the Guardians and the Dark Lord.