Hitman With A Badass System

Chapter 1359  Immense Loot I

Michael chuckled, imagining the temporal hell Devdan was probably experiencing. Andohr, that sanctimonious prick, loved to play with time. Stretching it, twisting it, making people relive their worst nightmares over and over again…

"Yeah, that's gotta suck," Michael muttered, a cruel grin twisting his lips. He hoped the elf was suffering, hoped it was a thousand times worse than anything Michael could have inflicted on him. He hadn't forgotten Thorfinn's gleeful confession, hadn't forgotten the thirty days of torture those bastards had inflicted on his mother.

He glanced around the battlefield, his gaze searching for another familiar face.

"Where's Erael, anyway?" he asked, his voice hardening.

She wasn't among the captured soldiers, nor was she among the corpses that littered the ground. She'd vanished, slipped away while he was… elsewhere.

"Clever bitch," he muttered, a flicker of admiration mixing with his anger. "But she won't hide for long."

He turned towards Lenora, who was approaching, a satisfied smirk on her bloodstained lips.

"Lenora," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Once we're done stripping these Skyhall fools bare, I have a new… project for you."

"Oh?" Lenora purred, her crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Do tell."

"Find Erael," Michael growled. "I don't care where she's hiding, I want her found. Skyhall's gone. I'm the top dog in the mortal realm now. And when I get my hands on that bitch… she'll wish she never laid a finger on my mother."

"Consider her… re-educated, my lord," Lenora chuckled, gesturing towards a pile of discarded Skyhall armor.

But just as she spoke, a commotion erupted nearby. A group of Skyhall soldiers, their faces contorted with desperation, lashed out, their hidden daggers flashing in the dim light. They managed to catch a few of the dark army soldiers off guard, stabbing them before they could react. Then, with a shout and a surge of blue light, they activated a speed-enhancing spell, their forms blurring as they bolted towards the edge of the pocket dimension.

"Shit!" Lenora cursed, her hand darting towards the daggers sheathed at her hip. "Those bastards!" She launched herself after them, a crimson blur of fury.

"Hold on," Michael said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Let's see what this bad boy can do."

He held up his left wrist, the upgraded shield gleaming in the dim light.

"Time for a test drive."

With a flick of his wrist, the shield detached, its jagged blades spinning with a whirring sound that echoed the growl of a hungry beast. The air crackled with dark energy as he channeled his power, aiming the shield at the fleeing soldiers.

"Sayonara, suckers," he muttered, launching the shield with a flick of his wrist.

It shot through the air, a blur of black metal and crimson light, the whirring of its blades growing louder, more menacing, as it closed the distance.

The Skyhall soldiers, their backs turned, didn't even have time to scream.

The shield sliced through them, cleaving their bodies cleanly in half, the force of the impact sending a spray of blood and viscera across the battlefield. Severed limbs, still twitching, tumbled through the air, landing with sickening thuds on the ground. The air filled with the stench of blood and the gut-wrenching cries of those who'd been spared a swift death.

"Holy shit," one of the dark army soldiers whispered, his eyes wide with awe.

Lenora, who'd stopped in her tracks, stared at the carnage, her jaw slack.

"Damn, boss," she breathed, "that's… efficient." n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The shield, its bloody work done, arced gracefully back towards Michael, returning to its housing on his wrist with a soft click.

"Damn, boss," Lenora whistled, her crimson eyes fixed on the shield as it slotted back into place on Michael's wrist. "That little toy of yours got a serious facelift. Looks like someone's been hanging out with the cool kids."

She grinned, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "I'm liking this new upgrade. Way more… persuasive than the old one."

Michael chuckled, flexing his hand, enjoying the weight of the shield on his wrist. "Yeah, it's got a bit more… bite to it now."

He glanced around the battlefield, at the piles of confiscated weapons and armor, the shattered remnants of Skyhall's fleet, the terrified faces of the surviving soldiers.

"So," he said, turning to Lenora, "how's the looting going? Those Skyhall bastards must have been hoarding a fortune in those palaces of theirs."

"Oh, we're just getting started," Lenora purred, her smile widening. "The boys are having a field day. Stripping those pompous asses bare, taking everything that isn't nailed down. We've already finished cataloging the loot from that palace over there," she said, gesturing towards a smaller, but still impressive, floating structure nearby. "Why don't you come take a look? I think you'll be pleased with what we've found."

"Lead the way," Michael said, following Lenora towards the smaller palace.

"This one's called the Azure Citadel, according to those Skyhall snobs we… questioned," Lenora explained, a wicked gleam in her eye.

She pushed open the massive, ornate doors, and they stepped inside. The Azure Citadel, while not as grand as the Obsidian Palace, was still a sight to behold. The walls were lined with tapestries depicting scenes of heroic battles and celestial landscapes. The floors were polished marble, inlaid with intricate patterns of gold and silver. And the air, unlike the battlefield outside, was surprisingly fresh, scented with exotic flowers and incense.

A dozen or so dark army soldiers, their black armor gleaming in the soft light that filtered through the arched windows, were busy sorting through piles of loot. Gems glittered in open chests, weapons gleamed on display racks, and scrolls, their parchment yellowed with age, lay scattered across a massive oak table.

"Damn," Michael whistled, his eyes widening in appreciation. "Looks like those Skyhall bastards were even richer than I thought."

"They were hoarding a king's ransom in this place," Lenora chuckled, gesturing towards a pile of gold coins that reached nearly to the ceiling. "Gems, enchanted weapons, rare herbs… you name it, they got it."

"And those scrolls?" Michael asked, his gaze lingering on the table.

"Looks like a bunch of boring historical records, mostly. But," she added with a wink, "there might be a few… interesting spells hidden in there. Something to keep our warlocks occupied."

"Nice," Michael grinned. "Looks like we're gonna be set for a while.

Just as Michael was about to dive headfirst into the pile of loot, a familiar voice called out from the doorway.

"Looks like I missed all the fun," Elidyr said, stepping into the Azure Citadel. He glanced around the room, taking in the scene with a raised eyebrow. "You guys weren't kidding about the loot, huh?"

"Elidyr," Michael greeted, turning towards his friend with a grin. "Good to see you in one piece. How'd the rescue mission go? Everyone safe?"

"Jasmine's soul is secure," Elidyr confirmed, nodding. "Back at the Dark Castle, along with… Rowena." His voice faltered slightly as he mentioned her name, a shadow passing over his usually bright features.

"Trista and Saber are keeping watch. They'll make sure nothing happens to her."

"Good," Michael said, relieved. He hadn't forgotten the last time he'd seen his sister, the raw pain and betrayal in her eyes. He'd deal with that… mess… later. Right now, there were more pressing matters at hand.

Like mountains of loot.

"The others?" Michael asked, gesturing towards the chaos still raging outside. "How's the mop-up operation going in the mortal realm?"

"The Skyhall remnants are scattered, disorganized," Elidyr reported. "Our guys are rounding them up, dealing with any… resistance."

His gaze shifted to the piles of treasure glittering under the soft light of the palace. "Looks like we'll be needing a bigger vault," he chuckled, joining Michael and Lenora as they approached the table laden with scrolls and artifacts.

But as Elidyr drew closer to the loot, a shadow fell over his face. The closer he got, the more those unlocked memories, the horrific visions of Skyhall's atrocities, rose to the surface. He recognized some of the artifacts, the intricate craftsmanship, the specific styles... They were from Elven clans, Dwarven kingdoms, human cities… places he'd seen destroyed, razed to the ground by the Celestial Cannon.

His Celestial Cannon. The weapon he'd created, the one that Skyhall had twisted and used to inflict so much pain and suffering.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hand instinctively reaching for the burn scars that marred his face, a constant reminder of Skyhall's betrayal.

"Elidyr?" Michael asked, noticing the shift in his friend's demeanor. "You okay?"

Elidyr forced a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah, just… a lot to process, you know?" He gestured towards the loot, his voice heavy with a sadness that Michael had rarely heard from him. "All this… it was taken. Stolen. From people… from places… that are gone now. Because of me. Because of what I helped create."

He looked at Michael, his gaze searching, his voice a low, haunted whisper.

"Will those wounds… the wounds I helped inflict… will they ever truly heal?"

Michael clapped a hand on Elidyr's shoulder, his gaze understanding. "They'll heal, Elidyr. The wounds, I mean. Time… time heals all wounds. But the scars… yeah, those might stick around. But that's not a bad thing, you know?"

He squeezed Elidyr's shoulder reassuringly. "Those scars… they're reminders. Of the mistakes we've made. And we all make mistakes, Elidyr. The important thing is that we learn from them. That we make damn sure we don't repeat them. That we stop anyone else from making the same mistakes."

Elidyr's shoulders slumped slightly, as if a weight had been lifted from them. He nodded slowly, a flicker of hope returning to his eyes.

"Yeah," he murmured, glancing back at the loot, his gaze lingering on a beautifully crafted elven bow that he recognized from one of the fallen clans. "You're right. They're… reminders. A chance to… to do better. To build something… something new."

He looked at Michael, a genuine smile finally breaking through the shadows that had haunted him.

"A new beginning."