Hitman with a Badass System

(Calm before the storm chapter)

After a few minutes, the members of the vampire death squad stood before Michael, their expressions transformed with newfound respect. Even the once boisterous and unrestrained Bear remained silent, his eyes fixed on the Dark Lord. They realized that what they had experienced was not a true battle, but rather a friendly duel, and their minds wandered to the unimaginable consequences if they had faced the Dark Lord in a real fight. Each member understood that Michael had deliberately held back during their encounter. Otherwise, they would have met their demise within seconds. The weight of this realization settled upon them, leaving them in awe of the Dark Lord's power and restraint.

Michael's gaze shifted across the members of the vampire death squad, his voice carrying a tone of encouragement. "Do not be disheartened by this defeat," he began, his words resonating with conviction. "In fact, it is through more training and real-life battles that you can truly become perfect killing machines. Remember, strength is not solely measured by victory, but by the determination to improve."

A brief pause hung in the air before Michael continued, his eyes gleaming with a sense of purpose. "After my wedding with Gaya, I will dedicate more time to your training. I will help you unlock your full potential and hone your skills to perfection. Together, we will become a force to be reckoned with."

He then offered a word of caution, his voice filled with wisdom. "However, let me remind you that overconfidence can be a deadly flaw. Never allow your confidence to blind you. Stay vigilant, stay focused, and channel your strength with precision."

The members of the vampire death squad stood silently, their nods expressing their understanding and gratitude for the Dark Lord's guidance. They knew that under his tutelage, they had the opportunity to transcend their current limitations and become formidable warriors.

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Saber hovered in the sky above the Kingdom of Dalgarum, his gaze fixed upon the sprawling headquarters of the Han Torum clan. The clan's stronghold, nestled in the heart of Awor, boasted an impressive dwarven architecture. Tall and majestic, it was crafted from dark gray stones, lending an air of strength and fortitude to its formidable presence.

As nightfall approached, Saber patiently awaited his moment to infiltrate the clan. The dwarves, though lacking in cultivation power compared to other races, compensated for it with their mastery of unique and deadly weapons. The dwarf guards patrolled the clan, their watchful eyes scanning for any signs of intrusion. Hidden from their sight, Saber surveyed the scene from above, taking note of the various weapons carefully positioned around the clan. Each weapon exuded an aura of power and danger, a testament to the dwarves' expertise in forging formidable tools of combat.

While Saber possessed the power to swiftly eliminate the dwarf guards and their deadly weapons if given the order, his current mission demanded a different approach. He had been tasked by the Dark Lord to infiltrate the Han Torum clan, reaching the clan heads with a crucial ultimatum. Their fate hung in the balance, for they had just four days to make a difficult choice: dismantle their revered clan or face the wrath of the Dark Lord.

Saber's objective extended beyond mere destruction; he was to ensure that the clan leaders chose the path of dismantlement, allowing the Dark Lord to recruit the talented dwarves within their ranks secretly. His loyalty bound him to these orders, and he understood the larger strategic implications of such a move. Saber's mission was not solely about sowing chaos and leaving behind a trail of corpses, but rather to manipulate the clan's destiny to align with the Dark Lord's grand designs.

As the dwarves continued their patrol around the majestic, dark gray stone-clad clan building, their conversation took a turn towards recent events. The destruction of the Guardian Guild by the Dark Lord became the topic of their discussion, and laughter filled the air.

"Did you hear about the Alpha Guardians?" chuckled one dwarf, shaking his head in disbelief. "They were supposed to be the epitome of strength, but they didn't stand a chance against the Dark Lord."

"Yeah, it's hilarious!" another dwarf joined in, his voice brimming with amusement. "That demon butler of his warned them, gave them two whole days to dismantle their precious Guardian Guild. And what did they do? Stayed put like a bunch of foolish humans."

The dwarves burst into raucous laughter, their hearty guffaws echoing through the night. They couldn't comprehend the audacity of the Guardians, who believed they could actually defeat the Dark Lord.

"I bet they thought they were invincible," a dwarf jeered, wiping away tears of mirth. "But look at what happened to Hulwick Island! The Dark Lord's spells shattered it into pieces and sent it sinking to the depths."

"And that ethereal two-headed dragon he fought," another dwarf chimed in, his voice filled with mockery. "They probably thought it was their savior, but the Dark Lord proved them wrong. He slayed it with ease."

The dwarves continued their patrol, relishing in their laughter and the perceived superiority they felt over the fallen Guardians. Their taunting remarks painted a picture of arrogance and disdain for those who dared challenge the might of the Dark Lord.

As the dwarves reveled in their laughter and mockery, their amusement seemed boundless. Their jokes and banter flowed freely, further fueling their sense of superiority.

"Those Guardians, I tell ya, they must have rocks for brains!" chuckled one dwarf, slapping his knee. "Who in their right mind challenges the Dark Lord and thinks they'll come out on top?"

"Ah, humans," another dwarf chimed in, shaking his head in mock pity. "They always think strength in numbers will save them. But little do they realize, it just gives the Dark Lord more targets to crush!"

Laughter erupted once again, accompanied by a chorus of jests and jibes.

"They're like ants marching to their own demise!" a dwarf exclaimed, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Instead of using their brains to escape, they gather their little army for the Dark Lord's entertainment."

"And what's with their so-called intelligence?" quipped another dwarf, feigning confusion. "They claim to be the smartest race, but when it comes to facing the Dark Lord, they're nothing more than bumbling fools!"

The dwarves shared boisterous laughter, their voices blending in a symphony of amusement. They reveled in their perceived intellectual superiority over the humans, mocking their choices and decisions.

"They thought they could defeat the Dark Lord!" one dwarf exclaimed between fits of laughter. "But instead, they became fodder for his power. It's almost too easy!"

The jovial banter continued, the dwarves relishing in their own wit and humor, unaware of the looming ultimatum the Dark Lord had sent them to deliver.

Saber, perched high above the dwarven clan, carefully observed the patterns of their patrols. He analyzed their routes, noting the areas they frequented and the blindspots they might overlook. It was essential for him to find a gap in their vigilance that would allow him to infiltrate the clan undetected.

As his sharp eyes scanned the dwarves below, he discovered a blindspot in their patrol route—a narrow alley tucked between two towering structures. It was a secluded path, hidden from direct view, where the dwarves seldom ventured. Saber realized that this blindspot would be his key to accessing the clan building without raising the guards' suspicions.

With stealth and precision, Saber descended from his hidden vantage point and glided towards the designated blindspot. The narrow alley was shrouded in darkness, providing the perfect cover for his clandestine entry. He moved swiftly, his steps soundless, and disappeared into the shadows.

Meanwhile, as Saber maneuvered through the hidden alley, a brief moment of uncertainty arose among the patrolling dwarves. One dwarf, a hint of suspicion in his voice, turned to his companion and asked, "Did you feel something strange just now? A presence, perhaps?"

His companion, slightly inebriated from a night of revelry, scoffed and brushed off the inquiry. "Ah, you've had one too many, my friend!" he retorted with a chuckle. "No one would be foolish enough to challenge our clan. It's just your imagination playing tricks on you!"

The doubtful dwarf shrugged, convinced by his companion's dismissal. They continued their patrol, unaware that a skilled infiltrator had slipped past them and was now lurking within the heart of their clan. Saber, utilizing the blindspot to his advantage, pressed on with his mission, remaining undetected by the oblivious dwarven guards.

Saber, hidden in the shadows, couldn't help but chuckle softly at the dwarves' arrogance and mockery towards the humans. "Oh, my dear dwarves," he whispered to himself, "you call them foolish while you struggle to perform your own duties with precision."

Inside the majestic clan building, the atmosphere was a testament to the dwarves' meticulous craftsmanship. Elaborate stone arches adorned the corridors, leading to grand halls adorned with intricate carvings and elegant tapestries. Saber's eyes gleamed with a mix of admiration and determination as he navigated through the labyrinthine structure.

His ultimate destination was the power room, the heart of the clan's operations. The dwarves had devised intricate mechanisms powered by the stored energy they absorbed from the sun through specialized grids. Saber knew that by cutting off this source of power, he could plunge the clan into darkness, effectively creating the cover he needed to locate the clan heads.

Moving silently and blending seamlessly with the dark corners, Saber made his way through the bustling corridors. The dwarves carried on with their daily routines, unaware of the shadowy figure weaving through their midst. Guards stood watch at strategic points, their eyes scanning for any signs of intrusion, but Saber's supernatural grace and stealth rendered him virtually invisible.

Following his mental map of the clan's layout, Saber took advantage of hidden passages and secret stairwells, bypassing guard stations without a hint of detection. The air hummed with the energy of the dwarves' industriousness, yet Saber's presence remained concealed as he drew closer to his destination.

Finally, after traversing a series of dimly lit corridors and descending a spiraling staircase, Saber reached the power room. The room was bathed in an eerie glow emanating from the intricate machinery and arrays of energy cells. With deliberate precision, he assessed the mechanisms and identified the crucial power source that needed to be severed.

As Saber opened the door to the power room, he was greeted by a sight that left the dwarves inside utterly shocked. Their eyes widened in disbelief, and their voices caught in their throats as they beheld the unexpected intruder standing before them.

"By the beards of our ancestors!" one dwarf exclaimed, his voice tinged with fear and surprise.

"What in hell'is going on?" another dwarf stammered, struggling to comprehend the sudden intrusion.

However, before they could gather their wits or raise the alarm, Saber sprang into action with inhuman speed and precision. With lightning-fast strikes, he incapacitated each dwarf, rendering them unconscious with swift and powerful blows. The room was filled with the thud of bodies hitting the floor, their futile attempts at resistance halted by the superior prowess of the elder vampire.

The dwarves, known for their resilience and tenacity, stood no chance against Saber's supernatural abilities. His movements were a blur of speed and grace as he swiftly neutralized each dwarf with calculated strikes. The clash of his strikes against their bodies reverberated through the room, echoing the dominance of the intruder.

Within moments, the power room fell into an eerie silence, disrupted only by the unconscious forms of the dwarves strewn across the floor. Saber stood amidst them, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of further disturbance.

As Saber surveyed the power room, his gaze fell upon the intricate mechanism that powered the entire clan building. Golden tablets adorned the contraption, their engraved runes pulsating with energy. He knew that disabling this mechanism would not only plunge the room into darkness but also cut off the power supply to the entire building.

With a resolute expression, Saber approached the mechanism, his movements graceful yet purposeful. He studied the interlocking gears, the delicate wiring, and the intricate channels that carried the energy. In a display of raw strength, he ripped apart a section of the mechanism, causing sparks to shower the room in a mesmerizing display.

But disabling the mechanism entirely required more than just brute force. Saber drew upon his ancient knowledge and honed instincts to identify the vulnerable points within the system. With calculated precision, he unleashed a series of powerful punches, targeting specific junctions and conduits, severing their connections with resounding cracks.

As each blow landed, the room trembled, echoing the impact of Saber's strikes. The once steady hum of energy faded into a dull silence, accompanied by the fading glow of the golden tablets. The power room, now marred by the wreckage of the disabled mechanism, was cast into darkness as the lights flickered and died.

The power to the entire clan building had been severed, ensuring that Saber's presence would remain shrouded in shadows as he continued his mission. With the darkness as his ally, he would now navigate the vast halls and corridors, seeking out the clan heads and delivering the Dark Lord's ultimatum.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit chamber, a group of old dwarves gathered around a large oak table, their weathered faces illuminated by the soft glow of cigar embers. Wisps of smoke curled in the air as they deliberated on the best course of action to seize the opportunity presented by the destruction of the Guardian Guild.

"We've been given a rare chance here, lads," one grizzled dwarf with a long white beard spoke with a deep, rumbling voice. "With the Guardians scattered, we can expand our influence and claim what's rightfully ours."

"Aye," another dwarf chimed in, his voice tinged with a touch of greed. "The resources, the territories... It's all ripe for the taking. We must strike while the iron is hot."

As they plotted and debated their next move, their grand hall suddenly flickered with an unsettling glow, causing the chandeliers above them to tremble before plunging into darkness. The room echoed with the grumbles and curses of the dwarves, their frustration palpable.

"Blast those imbeciles in the power room!" one dwarf growled, his hand pounding on the table. "How many times have we told them to keep the lights on?"

Amidst their collective vexation, the heavy wooden doors of the chamber creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the threshold. Shadows danced upon the walls as the dim light from the hallway cast an ethereal glow upon the mysterious intruder.

The dwarves squinted, their eyes adjusting to the darkness, and they vaguely made out the figure's silhouette, holding two other dwarves by the hand. The captives appeared unconscious, their forms limp and lifeless.

"What in the depths is this?" one dwarf exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

The figure stepped forward, revealing a tall and imposing presence. His gaze, piercing and intense, seemed to cut through the darkness. The dwarves' eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and unease as they recognized the figure as Saber, the enigmatic intruder.

Saber's voice, dripping with quiet authority, broke the silence. "Gentlemen, it seems there has been a change of plans. The Dark Lord demands your attention." His tone held an undeniable weight, leaving the dwarves captivated by a mixture of fear and curiosity.

The old dwarves exchanged uncertain glances, their minds racing to comprehend the sudden turn of events. They knew they stood in the presence of a formidable adversary, and their instincts warned them to tread cautiously.

As Saber stood there, the captives still held in his grip, the grand hall remained enveloped in darkness. The flickering glow of extinguished candles and the lingering scent of cigar smoke filled the air, creating an atmosphere thick with anticipation.

The dwarves, their voices momentarily silenced, awaited Saber's next move, unsure of what fate awaited them under the command of the Dark Lord's emissary.