The Transcendent Godslayer-Chapter 43: War

Silent figures moved like shadows, clad in black, or in garments that warped perception itself. Their presence was an anomaly, they were neither seen nor sensed. Their forms shifting as if they were barely real. Some wielded treasures that rendered them formless, slipping through the night like phantoms.

They spread through Crimson City like a tide, advancing with eerie precision. From there, they infiltrated the Crimson Estate—a fortress as vast as a mid-sized city in its own right.

In their wake, the city walls stood unmanned. The gates lay open, silent, and abandoned. The city security personnels on duty, lying in their own pools of blood. Their actions were quick. So quick that the response of the Crimson family, came a little too late.

"WHO DARES?!!!"

BOOOOOM!

A thunderous explosion tore through the Crimson Castle, the shockwave splintering stone, shattering glass, and lighting up the sky. Figures erupted into the air, their faces twisted with rage and malice, their battle cries shaking the heavens.

And then, all hell broke loose.

High above, Saints clashed, their blows ripping through the clouds, each impact shaking the firmament like a wrathful god's decree. On the ground, warriors collided in a brutal fashion, the resonating force of their strikes, sending reverberating tremors through the earth.

The Crimson Family and their forces fought like demons, cutting down the invaders despite being outnumbered five to one. They had not risen to prominence among Ares' Great Families by mere name alone.

No! They were warriors, conquerors! And that was why they were feared.

Explosions erupted across the estate, blinding flashes of power igniting the battlefield. Skills flared like dying stars. The once serene and beautiful night was swallowed by chaos, truly a maelstrom of blood, fire, and war.

----

Kallen lunged forward, and the three figures snapped into formation, their movements flawless, and seamlessly lethal. One surged ahead, daggers glinting like fangs, while another nocked an arrow, his crossbow steady and precise. The last one stood at the back, motionless and unreadable.

Kallen advanced, analysing them as he moved.

'The one with the daggers... high probability he threw that kunai. And those weapons... any treasure that comes in a pair is deadly. I can't let them touch me.'

His gaze flicked to the archer for the briefest second. 'So that second projectile was an arrow? His aim is Deadshot accurate... That leaves the last one...'

His pupils contracted sharply. The last assassin was gone.

A bolt of unease snapped through his nerves, his instincts screaming!

At the same time, he suddenly shifted his stance, his angle subtly adjusting... just in time to duck.

His movement speed was too much to sidestep, too vicious to cut short. Stopping would be suicide.

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Instead, he let momentum carry him forward. Dropping onto his knees, he slid across the wet marble like a blade over ice.

A razor-edged shadow sliced overhead, its trajectory a hair's breadth from gutting his throat. The assassin's dagger flashed over his head, its reflection captured in his calm crimson eyes.

With his gaze still locked on the assassin, his hand blurred, and he executed a precise, ruthless counter.

The kunai blade met flesh.

The assassin staggered, crumpling down, his Achilles tendon severed, leading to his mobility being annihilated in an instant.

Kallen would have gone for the kill, but instead he pivoted mid-slide, narrowly avoiding an arrow blistering toward his shoulder. The floor's wet surface worked both for and against him... it allowed for fluid, frictionless motion, but one misstep could send him crashing into death.

A second arrow whistled through the air!

Kallen rolled and twisted, dodging by the slimmest margin. The razor edge of death brushed past him, close enough that he felt the displaced air whip against his skin. His heart pounded, but not from fear.

No, this feeling was blood-boiling!

And he had to admit... he had missed it.

This thrill. The sharp edge of danger pressing against his throat. The intoxicating rush of battle where instinct took over, where calculations became second nature, where the difference between life and death was a single misstep. It was exhilarating!

If he missed anything about his life on Earth, it was this. Taking on missions against affluent figures with their own mercenaries, put him in this kind of excitement.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips as his body moved on its own, already preparing for the next attack.

There was something wrong though. He had fought countless battles, but these assassins... these people were unnatural.

Their movements were soundless, and their breathing nonexistent. Even the one he'd just maimed made no sound. Blood poured from the gaping wound, soaking into the ground in thick, dark pools, yet the figure remained eerily silent. No grunt of pain, no sharp inhale, not even the subtle grinding of teeth.

Kallen narrowed his eyes. That unnatural quiet sent a ripple of uncanny familiarity through him.

Warriors usually bled, they screamed, they cursed. Even the strongest ones let out something; a snarl, a hiss, a flicker of reaction. But these ones?

It was as if pain meant nothing to them. Or worse... as if they didn't.

It was eerie as it was wrong.

Sure most assassins knew how to suppress pain. But these guys were something else. The way they moved, the way they executed their attacks, it was cold, methodical and absolute.

They weren't just assassins. They were death incarnate. Killers!

Kallen knew this feeling well. After all... He had been one too in his previous life.

Just then....

"WHO DARES?!!!"

A voice thundered through the estate, from within the Crimson castle, shaking the very air.

On hearing that voice, a terrible premonition struck Kallen like a fist to the gut.

There was only little he could do to react to it however, as he was still in a pinch.

His body moved on instinct, twisting to avoid another arrow, his nerves already on fire with urgency. He surged toward the bath, but at that moment... The third assassin materialized before him, with a kunai in hand. An exact replica of the first.

Twin treasures!

'This kunai is a pair?!' Kallen's mind roared, but his body remained unnervingly calm.

Somehow, he felt like he had been betrayed.

His height which had been an advantage until now, was now a crippling liability. The assassin had calculated everything, using his movement against him, his trajectory locked into a perfect death trap.

It was a flawless kill.

But Kallen was Kallen.

His body wrenched unnaturally, twisting at an impossible angle, the kunai missing his skull by a whisper.

He didn't have anytime for a counter attack; whatever was making him feel uneasy, was close.

But, at this moment, it was already too late.

That ominous feeling. That uneasy feeling that had been gnawing at the edges of his mind the instant he heard that voice, spiked violently .

A cold shiver ran down his spine, and his instincts screamed, but it was as though his body was already frozen in place. It was danger... suffocating danger.

BOOOOOM!

An explosion ripped through the Crimson Castle.

The ceiling above cracked, fragments dislodging, and massive stone slabs tumbling like falling meteors.

The entire room was collapsing.