Hitman With A Badass System-Novel



As the wind howled and the darkened sky hinted at an impending storm, Michael and Gaya stood alongside Nithroel on the edge of the mountain where their paths had first crossed. The empress of Awor gazed into the distance, her eyes seemingly carrying the weight of ancient knowledge.

In the pregnant silence, it was Michael who finally broke the stillness, his voice laced with curiosity and a touch of apprehension. "Who are you really? And who was that attacker?"

Nithroel turned her gaze towards Michael, her expression calm yet tinged with a profound understanding of the gravity of their situation. "That was Rudra, the God of War," she replied, the mere mention of his name coinciding with a distant rumble of thunder that echoed through the ominous sky.

Gaya's astonishment was evident as she grappled with the realization that they had been targeted by a deity, and one associated with war no less. However, both she and Michael sensed that Rudra's intentions went beyond mere destruction and that he had manipulated Michael as a pawn in his game, forcing him to take the lives of ithe three seal bearers, including the butler of the Winston family.

With a hint of uncertainty, Michael posed a question that had lingered in his mind ever since their first encounter. "Are you also a god?" His eyes held a flicker of recognition, sensing an inherent power within Nithroel that surpassed that of ordinary mortals. Although her aura bore similarities to the possessed Orc's energy, it seemed to radiate with a slightly lesser intensity.

The atmosphere around them crackled with anticipation as they awaited Nithroel's response, seeking clarity amidst the chaotic events that had unfolded. 

"I was once a god, indeed. But now, I am but a fallen deity," Nithroel's voice carried a hint of melancholy that mirrored the sadness reflected in her eyes.

Gaya, her frustration palpable, interjected with a grumble, "Why the hell did that bastard ruin our wedding? When did we piss off the God of War?" Meanwhile, Nithroel sighed, her gaze still fixed upon the distant horizon.

"He did not attack you directly. He used your husband as a means to break the seals," Nithroel clarified. As a goddess, she possessed knowledge beyond mortal comprehension. She understood that if Rudra truly intended to kill Ghost, he could have done so. While killing a god's vessel would only result in their soul seeking a new host, there was no denying that Rudra's purpose was not to end Michael's mortal existence. Perhaps his intentions shifted upon encountering Nithroel, but it was evident that his aim had been to manipulate Michael into eliminating the seal bearers.

"The seals?" Michael's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yes. In your previous life, you constructed an intricate array that acted as a barrier between the mortal realm and the realm of gods, preventing mortals from entering the divine domain and vice versa," Nithroel began to unravel the complexities of the situation. "Unbeknownst to you, these seals were embedded within individuals who were not even born during your previous self's time. Only you possess the power to break these seals by slaying the designated seal bearers. Each time a seal bearer dies, the barrier between our realms weakens. Once all the seals are broken, the gods will regain the ability to traverse freely between the mortal realm and the divine realm, as they did in the past."

However, Nithroel herself remained unaware of the variations within the seals, specifically those designed by the Previous Dark Lord and Elidyr in their respective timelines. This explained how Diana, in Michael's timeline, managed to break one of the seals when she killed the seal bearer, Bai Ning.

As Michael processed the weight of Nithroel's words, she continued to unravel the perilous web that entangled them all.

"The Pantheon has initiated their movements against Dagon, and now you find yourself caught in the crossfire of their war," Nithroel stated, her voice laced with concern. "What you encountered was merely a sliver of Rudra's grace, a mere one percent of his full power. Consider, then, the unimaginable might wielded by an entire pantheon of gods and the vengeful God who desire to see you crumble."

Michael and Gaya were left stunned, the mention of a vengeful god sending shivers down their spines. Unable to contain his curiosity, Michael posed the question that gnawed at him.

"Who is this vengeful god?" he inquired, his voice betraying a mix of apprehension and intrigue.

"Andohr, the God of Time and Space," Nithroel replied, her gaze piercing their souls. "My memories of him remain fragmented, but one thing remains certain: you cannot remain in this realm for much longer. The other fallen gods will soon regain their graces and seek you out. You are not yet prepared to face the wrath of the gods, and even I cannot aid you should more deities descend upon this realm."

An array of questions swirled in Michael's mind, yet one in particular burned with intensity.

"Why are you helping me?" Michael questioned, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Nithroel's eyes softened, her gaze holding a flicker of determination.

"I cherish ruling the mortal realm, Ghost," she confessed. "But the Pantheon seeks to transform mortals into their slaves. Once they arrive in this realm, each god will demand unwavering devotion and worship from mortals. Those who dare defy them will be made examples of, and gradually, this realm will devolve into a vast slave market, devoid of free will and consumed by blind loyalty. The only thing that preventing this grim fate is the barrier between the two realms."

As Nithroel's words resonated within him, Michael recalled a haunting dream he once had, a glimpse of a world devoid of free will, where people existed as mere puppets. He couldn't help but wonder if that nightmarish vision was a consequence of the Pantheon's rule over the mortal realm.

The weight of their predicament settled upon them like a suffocating fog, casting their future into uncertainty. The path ahead was treacherous, fraught with danger and the impending wrath of gods. With their newfound knowledge and the stakes laid bare before them, Michael, Gaya, and Nithroel stood on the precipice of a fateful journey, their destinies intertwined in the grand tapestry of divine machinations and mortal resistance.

"But the barrier that your former self created is weakening, and only you possess the power to reinforce it," Nithroel explained, her voice filled with urgency. "You must grow stronger and prepare to confront the gods, Ghost. Dagon cannot indefinitely divert the attention of the Pantheon."

Michael's brows furrowed as he contemplated the mention of Dagon, the infamous ruler of hell.

"So, Dagon is also a fallen god?" Gaya interjected, seeking clarification. Nithroel nodded in confirmation.

"Among mortals, you are already formidable with your Half Celestial cultivation stage. However, the power of the gods resides on an entirely different plane. You must transcend the limitations of the Celestial stage. Do not step foot into this world until you have done so," Nithroel advised, her tone resolute.

As Nithroel spoke, Gaya's voice quivered with uncertainty. "Where should we go?"

"Itonys. The fallen gods cannot reach you there," Nithroel replied, conjuring images of the vibrant, neon-lit forests of Itonys and the loyal wood elves who inhabited its realms.

"I will go there once I gather the others at the castle," Michael stated, but Nithroel swiftly shook her head.

"No, Andohr must have already learned of recent events and will be plotting his next move to hinder your path to Itonys. Time is of the essence, and you cannot afford to waste a moment. You must depart now. I will do everything within my power to safeguard the others, but the odds are undeniably stacked against us, Ghost," Nithroel's voice grew intensely serious.

Gaya pleaded, her voice filled with concern, "At least let me bring my mother."

Nithroel shook her head in response. "My people are already on their way to ensure the safety of your mother and the others—" Nithroel's words abruptly halted as her gaze shifted towards the distant sky, her focus returning to Michael once again.

"Go now," Nithroel urged, her voice carrying a sense of imminent danger. She swiftly gestured with her hands, summoning a golden portal that materialized in the air before them.

Feeling the urgency in the goddess's words, Michael tightly grasped Gaya's hand and guided her toward the shimmering vortex. However, before stepping into the swirling portal, he turned back to face Nithroel, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Why would you risk yourself to help me, Nithroel? Your assistance puts you in grave danger," Michael questioned, his voice tinged with both gratitude and concern.

A gentle smile curved Nithroel's lips as she met his gaze. "By aligning myself with you, Ghost, I stand a chance of maintaining my dominion over the mortal realm. If the Pantheon emerges victorious, we all suffer the consequences," she replied, her tone resolute.

Raising her hand, Nithroel unleashed a sudden gust of wind, propelling Michael and Gaya forward, propelling them forcefully into the awaiting portal. The ethereal gateway closed behind them, leaving Nithroel behind.

In that fleeting moment, as Michael and Gaya disappeared into the unknown, Nithroel stood tall, her golden hair dancing in the wind. With unwavering determination, she prepared to face the oncoming storm, knowing that her alliance with Michael carried the weight of both their destinies and the fate of the mortal realm itself.

With a swift and fluid motion, Nithroel summoned her golden bow, a gleaming masterpiece crafted with intricate detail. Her grip tightened around the polished wood as she notched an arrow, its tip adorned with ancient runes of power. Drawing the bowstring back, she took aim at the distant sky, her eyes locked onto the approaching figures of the fallen gods.

A surge of divine energy coursed through her, heightening her senses and honing her focus. The arrow she released soared through the air, defying mortal limitations as it streaked across the vast expanse with unerring accuracy. It traversed a tremendous distance, seemingly defying both time and space.

As the arrow cut through the air, a tempest began to brew, dark clouds rolling in to amplify the brewing chaos. Thunder rumbled in the heavens, their ominous roars echoing through the land. Nature itself seemed to respond to Nithroel's presence, lending its power to her as she prepared to face the fallen gods.

Standing tall and resolute, the empress of Awor remained steadfast in the face of imminent danger. Her golden armor shimmered in the fading light, radiant and unyielding. With every passing moment, the storm grew fiercer, the elements aligning with her purpose.

Nithroel knew the odds were stacked against her, confronting a pantheon of formidable adversaries. Yet, she refused to back down, her determination unshakeable. The goddess of hunt stood as a beacon of defiance, ready to challenge the encroaching darkness with all her might.

As the fallen gods drew closer, their powerful presence palpable, Nithroel braced herself for the impending clash. She would fight for the preservation of the mortal realm, for the freedom of its inhabitants, and for the hope that her alliance with Michael would pave the way for a future untainted by the tyranny of the Pantheon.

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