Holy Assassin

I am an assassin.
To be precise, as the founder of the Holy Assassin profession, I am the only Holy Assassin on this continent.
In the world I acknowledge, assassins are divided into two types: those of darkness, and those of holiness, like my identity. Of course, my concept of holiness differs from others.
I enjoy doing things differently, and although they may not always be satisfactory, I still find it fascinating. After all, for those who have met me, the same actions always reveal different details in me. I think that's enough. Although I know I'm not the strongest man in the world, I'm certainly the man who knows how to cherish women the most.
While many men are striving to pursue women, I'm troubled by avoiding them. I'm not one to play by the rules; between physical intimacy and love, I always choose the former, in fact, most of the time it's a one-sided choice. I don't need the latter, but it always comes one after the other, and it's one of the few things that can truly bother me.
After many years in the profession, it's said that I've become quite famous throughout the entire continent of Komo. Official wanted posters, adventurers' guild bulletin boards, even the desks of some private detectives, and even the bedside mirrors and diaries of some destined individuals—many photos of me circulate outside, but unfortunately, each one is different. Just like everyone I've released describes my martial arts skills, different people will have different accounts.
Actually, none of those are my biggest secret. My biggest secret is my weapon. Unfortunately, those who will never see it won't believe it, and those who will may not understand it. This is one of the few things that bothers me. But now is not the time to introduce the weapon; I can only say that I usually hide it very well.
Let's get back to my profession, because this story revolving around that weapon begins here.
There's a big difference between a dark assassin and a holy assassin. Based on my years of experience, I've made the following conclusions.
First, comparing the starting point and the final result, I am an assassin who creates pleasure, while the latter only brings pain.
Secondly, in terms of target selection, I am much more reserved than them. I only target women, and specifically those who are beautiful both inside and out. Frankly, I am very picky in this regard. Many people complain, but so far, I have no intention of changing. I'm very busy; you know, creating pleasure is exhausting.
Thirdly, regarding the physical form and consequences of the attack, those dark assassins often inflict wounds on vital parts of their targets, while I always target readily available locations.
Finally, dark assassins understand business marketing far less than I do. While chivalry isn't a necessary virtue for a holy assassin, I would never kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. I always pursue quality in my work; mutual pleasure is the best choice for both the assassin and the victim.
These principles don't exist in the doctrines of the dark school, so they will never be as lucky as me. I have many repeat customers, but they will never have any. My stabbing has a life force (of course, based on not creating new life), while theirs completely extinguishes life.
As an assassin myself, I'm often welcomed, while they rarely get the chance to enjoy such treatment.
Of course, there are aspects that displease me.
Dark assassins often leave a pool of red after their missions, but I have far fewer opportunities to experience this.
I love red; it gives me intense pleasure.
But as a holy assassin, such opportunities are far too few. (Of course, if I were willing to compromise, there would be many more.) Two months have passed in the blink of an eye. From the room where the accident occurred, one can probably see large, large snowflakes slowly falling. Sigh
, this autumn ended rather abruptly.
I returned from my mission at midnight. This time it went well; the girl was beautiful, gentle, and sensual, very… well, everything was alright. It was my most enjoyable mission in the past two months, and the first time I'd experienced the thrill of red in almost two months.
But I still returned early. In my experience, girls like this often want to maintain a long-term relationship afterward. This violates my principles; I'm a principled person.
My principles are simple. First, I must be willing (whether the other party was initially willing is not my concern).
Second, regardless of who the other party is, I will only assassinate her three times a year, only three times.
Third, I am an assassin, not a businessman. So don't talk to me about money.
I remember two years ago, a voluptuous and alluring noblewoman became obsessed with this activity after I assassinated her. Within seven days, at her insistence and with my half-hearted resistance, I carried out three raids. I said, "Our fate is over." She then cried, clinging to me and refusing to let me go, while promising several things, one of which was three million mainland currency.
That was a large sum of money, not a small amount even for me. But I don't like money, at least not at the time. I remember it was a night with a crescent moon reflected in the branches, and the wind was strong.
The wind blowing in through the window not only tousled my hair but also ruffled the woman's eyes. Her skin was beautiful; I liked the feeling of touching jade. "
Then take me away," the woman said, looking at me with eyes devoid of any guile. As the wife of the owner of one of the three major conglomerates on the continent of Kemo, this woman's wealth is absolutely astonishing. Unfortunately, none of this is what I wanted.
I patted her face and said softly, "You're beautiful, and I felt great pleasure, but our fate is sealed. Also, I'm an assassin, not a businessman. I'll help you forget me," I said, and with a flick of my finger, I hypnotized her.
She's a nice woman. I sighed and walked away without looking back.
Actually, I'm usually a very boring person. I like quiet, I like solitude, and I like doing mundane things. My enthusiasm is limited and reserved; I don't want to waste it on irrelevant things.
Speaking of which, I've been in this business for almost three years now. Since I debuted at eighteen, I'm already twenty-one. At first, I was very upset that the Assassin's Guild didn't recognize my identity, but now I understand. On this continent of Kemo, I'm the one who founded my own sect. Although I haven't been able to vindicate the Holy Assassins or secure a place in the Assassin's Guild, we are still colleagues, and there's still some exchange between us.
Unfortunately, the Dark Clan lacks any noteworthy talent. Most are vicious and ugly, while those with both inner and outer beauty like myself are extremely rare. There are others with strong physiques and handsome features, but in my eyes, they are all show and no substance, not on the same level as my own. So, after a year in the business, I began to feel the loneliness of being at the top.
Ah, life is truly lonely.
When I wasn't on missions, I often sat alone on the spire of the Star-Picking Tower, counting stars, feeling the wind, and resigned to my loneliness. This continued until this autumn when things started to change. This autumn was particularly eventful.
In Chapter Two of the "Romance and Romance" series, "The Night of the Flower Exploration,"
I met someone. Ten days later, as we sat together on the tower's summit, I couldn't help but sigh, perhaps the Dark Clan has a successor.
In these three years, he's been the only one I've truly taken a liking to. However, this only friend of mine, perhaps as he himself said, is someone who has no interest in the opposite sex.
Frustrating. I was depressed for a long time that day.
I thought I had finally found comrades-in-arms, but unfortunately, apart from having more people to share the wind with, nothing has changed.
But I still made him my friend, my only friend so far.
I didn't know his name, and he couldn't possibly know mine. The first element for a holy assassin to live easily is 'mystery.' You see, my client prays constantly that God will let her see me again.
I'm not a believer in God; I exist outside of all faiths. Simply put, I'm not human, but I'm neither god nor demon.
I'm an assassin.
That's all that defines me.
Little Thorn is also a mysterious person. Although his martial arts skills are only so-so, he's very much to my liking in that regard. Out of tacit understanding, after that night's encounter, fight, and conversation, two shared names were born.
"Although we have different systems, we are both assassins after all. From now on, I'll be called Big Thorn, and you'll be called Little Thorn." That was my twenty-first autumn. In the Prime Minister's mansion in the Roman Empire, I encountered this opponent while preparing for an assassination.
Better late than never. Just as my chosen client was about to be stabbed a few more times, I appeared at the right moment.
This kid's skills were the best I'd ever seen among dark assassins, but I still took him down in three seconds. I'm skilled in both magic and martial arts; he's no match for me.
The Prime Minister Yang Lang's daughter, disheveled, leaned against the wall, her sword drooping from exhaustion. Panting, her face was pale, but she was still breathtakingly beautiful. (Of course, I've said I'm picky.) This young lady seemed to sense from my words and gestures that I wasn't one of them, but she still assumed I wasn't a benevolent helper. She watched me warily and suspiciously.
"Why am I called Little Thorn? Can't I be called Big Thorn?" she said, still under my foot, her tone defiant and arrogant.
I didn't answer immediately, but started taking off my clothes. It was a professional requirement; being an assassin dressed up wasn't a good idea. The Prime Minister's daughter and Little Thorn both let out a scream that echoed through the sky. However, I figured the soundproof and riot-proof barrier outside would protect me from most of the trouble this might cause.
"Do you even need to ask? Look, mine's bigger than yours, isn't it? Want to compare?" I said, proudly brandishing the weapon.
"You—!" Little Thorn seemed quite angry, his face even turning red.
I stared curiously into his eyes, and surprisingly discovered a deeper emotion hidden besides disgust.
"Little Thorn, you're not interested in men, are you?"
My heart sank, and I quickly turned around, simultaneously kicking him out the door with my heel.
"Your name is Yang Ling?" I carried the limp Prime Minister's daughter to the bed, casually taking her sword from my hand. "What a nice name." I dealt with Little Thorn in three seconds, how could such a delicate beauty be a match for me?
"You, you, you scoundrel! Let me go."
"No, Ling'er, don't call me a scoundrel, or a lecher would be more appropriate." I smiled, my hands roaming over the girl's body. After all, she was a sixteen-year-old girl; the feel of her skin, the scent of her virginity, there was something about her that touched something deep within my soul. Or perhaps, this is what I've been searching for.
"Help! No, no, let me go. Help—kill me!" How could anyone be here? Heh, I gently drew a symbol on the girl's delicate skin. Quite a strong character, not a tear yet.
My fingers glided slowly across her lower abdomen, calmly moving towards a certain firm spot. The peach is about to ripen, I sighed, looking into the girl's eyes.
A deep shame, anger, despair, and even a hint of regret flashed in Yang Ling's eyes. The magic symbol vanished in a flash, and Yang Ling's long-held will to die dissipated.
She was probably thinking that dying at Xiao Ci's hands would have been better, even though my actions were much gentler. Yang Ling struggled, biting her lips until they bled.
Red! I like it. I lowered my head, sucking the blood and saliva. The faint, sweet scent of virginity stirred a surge of desire within me. I reached out, my fingers grasping a soft mound of jade. The maiden's peach-like nipple shifted shape in my hand, and at times like these, I felt like a master magician, or perhaps a sculptor. I controlled the rhythm, picking up the red bud, gently plucking and twisting it, like a musician playing a tune.
"Is it comfortable? Why don't you make a sound?" I gently licked her rounded earlobe, whispering softly against her cheek. The girl's breathing quickened, trembling under my caresses.
I am a highly professional assassin; bringing pleasure to my clients is my ultimate goal.
The assassination itself is naturally exquisite, but unfortunately, I don't want to share it with anyone.
Under the light gauze curtains, the moans finally subsided with a high-pitched cry of pleasure.
The entry wasn't smooth, but the exit produced a soft, erotic sound. I looked down and smiled.
I'd immobilized Little Thorn, who lay on her side on the ground, listening to the shouts and rapidly approaching footsteps downstairs. "Catch the assassin! Don't let him get away!" I withdrew the magic mirror that obscured my vision and glanced back. Surprisingly, I didn't see a trace of panic in Little Thorn's eyes. I thought to myself, "This kid's not bad."
Yang Ling looked at me with her beautiful eyes, her gaze no longer filled with the obvious fear and hatred of the beginning. Her expression became complex and contradictory—a situation I often encountered, one I was used to.
I touched her lips with my weapon and smiled. Admiring the lingering blush on her face, I knew I didn't need to worry about her suddenly biting me. The footsteps downstairs were getting closer; it seemed my barrier was about to crumble. I spun around, slowly gliding my weapon across her face, wiping away the tears that streamed down her face as she teetered on the edge of hatred and pleasure.
"I'm leaving. You can see me twice more. Let me know with this spell when you decide." I tossed a card aside and sighed.
I glanced down at her lower body, where delicate red dots were scattered against the snow-white skin.
"Beautiful," I praised.
With a wave of my hand, a flash of gold appeared, and the sheets turned white again, leaving Yang Ling's lower body clean.
Yang Ling bit her lip, still silent.
What a stubborn girl, so cute. I nodded, slowly dressed, gently stroked her breasts, and walked out unhurriedly.
"You, who are you?" Her voice was soft, like the resistance and moans she made when she was initially powerless.
I didn't turn around, but walked slowly to the outer courtyard and called out, "From now on, you'll call me Big Thorn." "You, you..."
Without turning around, I knew she must be both ashamed and anxious.
"Actually, I'm also an assassin." Saying this, I reached out and picked up Little Thorn, leaping into the void.
Chapter 3 of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms: The Two Thorns
Becoming a qualified assassin is not easy, especially for a holy assassin.
Those of the Dark Faction only need a fast and ruthless sword to complete their missions, but for me, speed alone is clearly insufficient.
In fact, I rarely use a sword. Although I am a warrior, I am also a mage, and thorough preparation is one of my habits. Therefore, always prioritizing invincibility, I have very few opportunities to draw my sword.
My martial arts emphasize endurance, rhythm, and the perfect fusion of force and angle. Actually, the weapon I use is very ordinary, truly ordinary.
Little Thorn once asked me about it, and I said, "Do you really want to know?"
He nodded.
So I started taking off my clothes, and as his face flushed again and his eyes gleamed once more, I carefully hid at a distance, pointed to my waist, and sincerely and calmly said: "This is my weapon."
"You, you're a monster!" Little Thorn sighed, looking up at the sky, his voice trembling slightly. "
Little Thorn, you've wronged me. My words and actions are entirely in accordance with the identity of a holy assassin. I'm just saying what I should say and doing what I should do." I shook my head, helpless.
There are too many things in this world that go against one's conscience; honesty often becomes heresy. Legend has it that a saying from prehistoric times was left behind—understanding is the hardest thing.
Even on this continent where science and magic coexist, the greatest distance between people is still the distance of the heart. "
Little Thorn, people often overlook the most ordinary things around them. My weapon is ordinary, yet no one believes it." I circled Little Thorn with my weapon, saying meaningfully, "Swords and spears are all external things. If you want a weapon that suits your hand and heart, the best weapon is still your own body."
My intention was to remind him that although his current cultivation level was good, he would be constrained in many ways when facing someone like me who excelled in physical skills. Moreover, if he could accept it, I was willing to teach him a martial art. After all, he's my friend.
Unfortunately, Little Thorn didn't heed my wise words. He stared blankly into his deep blue eyes, his gaze fixed on my weapon. "
Little Thorn? Do you also want to learn this kind of skill?" I paused, pondered for a moment, and then firmly said, "Alright, if you really want to learn, I can teach you. But before that, let me see what your thing looks like."
I moved closer to Little Thorn, gesturing for him to take off his clothes. Little Thorn finally looked away from his lower body, then jumped back as if electrocuted.
"No, I won't learn. I won't learn."
Watching Little Thorn dart down the tower as if fleeing for his life, I was utterly bewildered. "My friend, it seems you're not truly a like-minded person after all." I sighed deeply, a sense of desolation washing over me. We're
both assassins, but the difference between us isn't just a name. Watching Little Thorn's figure disappear into the night like the wind, I couldn't help but feel regret. "Such a promising talent, why did he choose the dark path?" Sigh.
As a skilled Holy Assassin, speed, appearing and disappearing without a trace, is naturally indispensable, but the most important ability isn't endurance—well, it should be called technique.
Those who rely on familiarity to achieve proficiency are merely ordinary people; for me, skill lies hidden within skill, skill is the essence of the Divine Assassin. When the ancient sage created the term "Divine Assassin" and named this continent with it, his understanding of the Divine Assassin might not have reached the depth I have now.
I don't claim to be smarter or wiser than the ancient sage; after all, I am a successor to the ancients. Inheriting existing knowledge and achieving breakthroughs on that basis is perfectly normal.
I myself am a powerful example. I am neither human nor god/demon, so who am I?
This isn't my biggest secret, but no one else could possibly know it.
Adding the word "Holy" before "Assassin" requires a considerable price. Besides some general assassin's rules, you need other more specialized qualities.
Ten years of diligent study, immersing myself in calligraphy, painting, and poetry; eighteen years of rigorous training, day and night, have finally culminated in this dual mastery of magic and martial arts. My achievements today are largely due to chance. Of course, it's undeniable that as a sacred assassin facing beautiful women, my innate talent is my greatest asset.
However, things are always unpredictable. No matter how outstanding, intelligent, cautious, or self-disciplined I am, something has still exceeded my control.
This is the third unexpected event since this autumn.
I never thought that I, who had no friends for twenty years, would have one. Little Assassin hasn't appeared these past two days, and sitting alone on the top of the tower is quite lonely.
This winter is still just as cold. Lying on the icy tiles, the starlight scattered on my face has turned into snowflakes.
When Little Assassin isn't around, I mostly reminisce about memorable people, events, or scenes from my assassin career.
Actually, I think about these things most of the time when he's around. Little Assassin doesn't like to talk. Looking at the stars and feeling the wind, he often stays silent all night. This kid is becoming more and more to my liking.
The wind is a bit stronger tonight, and the snowflakes are more fragmented, falling in clusters and clumps.
I dislike surprises. Watching the snowflakes blocked a foot away by an invisible magical aura, I grew annoyed. Since that incident two months ago, I hadn't sensed Yang Ling's unbinding spell. The card I gave her contained a simple incantation; simply reciting it aloud was enough for me to sense it. However, this time the interval had been much longer.
Perhaps she was a woman capable of resisting the temptation of pleasure, savoring the distinct tearing sensation of breaking through that membrane symbolizing her pure virginity with a weapon. What I saw in her eyes then was a shy joy and acceptance of her fate. Was it just my imagination? Gentle on the outside, strong on the inside—I hadn't realized this little beauty's self-control was far stronger than I'd guessed. But I didn't care about such things; besides, I'd encountered more than one woman like her.
But what about the scratches on her back?
My special constitution grants me a rather bizarre self-healing ability. Let alone a scratch from an irresistibly pleasurable fingernail, even a cut from a poisoned sword specifically designed to slay dragons would heal completely after two months of cultivation and breathing exercises.
Yet, the fact remains that the hair-thin fingernail mark is still as fresh as ever, reminding me of the girl's tearful smile, the echoing soft moans and gasps of her voice. Yang Ling, this girl, is a bit strange. But what exactly is different? Her curves are beautiful, her breaths and moans are captivating, but she still seems like an ordinary girl. I sighed, flicked my finger to break the protective barrier, letting the snowflakes fall directly onto my face.
The cool sensation felt good. I closed my eyes, sensing the night traveler rapidly flying from the east. This person's movements, this person's speed... hmm, it must be Little Thorn. I didn't look up, but instead used a simple invisibility spell to test if this kid had improved.
Little Thorn floated to the top of the tower like a gust of wind, landing right beside me. Seeing his shifty gaze, I couldn't help but smile bitterly. Still no good. An assassin of this caliber is no different from suicide in front of me. I shook my head. Little Thorn slowly moved, unknowingly appearing beside my face.
Looking up, from bottom to top, I suddenly had a strange feeling. Little Thorn, his legs are long. I thought if it were a woman, these would definitely be a pair of legs that could enthrall any man.
What a pity, such beautiful legs, on a man's body. A wave of melancholy washed over me, and I couldn't help but sigh.
*Hiss!* The longsword, whistling through the air, was upon me in an instant.
Little Thorn's speed was still fast, and he possessed the keenness of an assassin. However, an assassin's sword shouldn't make such a noticeable sound. Little Thorn, it seems you're regressing. Even so, this one strike from Little Thorn was enough to destroy more than half of the so-called masters of the Kemo Continent. Unfortunately, he encountered me, someone who doesn't often use force, but is far more unfathomable.
*Clang!* My fingernail flicked against the sword tip, emitting a sharp whistling sound. As Xiao Ci cried out in surprise, I had already embraced him from behind around the waist.
Xiao Ci, why do you have such beautiful legs?
I had anticipated the consequences of this action, but I was wrong.
There was no counter-elbow strike, no return strike, not even a cry of surprise; Xiao Ci simply collapsed limply into my arms.
"Ah!" I screamed. The feeling in that instant was like suddenly discovering that the flowers I held in my hands had turned into cow dung—the shock was indescribable.
When a man falls into another man's arms in this manner…
Chapter Four of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms:
Instantaneous Teleportation a hundred meters away, watching the helpless Xiao Ci slowly slump to one side, I took a deep breath, involuntarily shivering, and looked at this strange friend with a panicked expression. Xiao Ci, you…you wouldn't…really be that…you…, would you?
Little Thorn, his face still flushed, glared at me, then a bright red bloomed at the corner of his mouth.
With a sway, I pulled his limp body into my arms again, my starry eyes flashing with rage. "Tell me," I said, "who hurt you?"
"Cross. So. Weilaman.
Cross!" It was him! I was stunned.
Cross. So. Weilaman—a name well-known in the Greco-Roman Empire. As one of the three greatest mages of the Greco-Roman Empire, I had the privilege of having a brief encounter with him.
In my first year, I rose to fame with a single blow, brazenly defiling the chastity of Anqi, the daughter of a Greco-Roman general, under the protection of tens of thousands of soldiers. In my moment of triumph, Cross. So. Weilaman extended his ghostly hand—the hand that had imprisoned the souls of countless powerful beings—to me.
That confrontation was the most dangerous I had ever faced; the instantaneous clash taught us a lesson about the power of those stronger than ourselves. Although his ghostly hand failed to capture my soul, I also failed to shake his resolve. He was a powerful magician, and even someone as proud as me had to admit it.
But what surprised me wasn't this, but why Little Thorn had encountered Kross. As the royal advisor of the Hiromas, Kross held an incredibly prestigious position, and his Ghost Palace was one of the most dangerous places on the entire continent. I believed that even if Little Thorn was incredibly audacious, he wouldn't go to the Ghost Palace to assassinate him. So, there was only one possibility left.
Little Thorn, you went to assassinate Yang Ling again?
That was my mission.
Mission? After the first failure, didn't he realize that the Prime Minister's Mansion would be on high alert? Yang Xi holds a high position; the protector who came by invitation couldn't possibly be a third-rate character. I sighed, but didn't voice my complaint.
My profession is a dark assassin! Little Thorn seemed somewhat stubborn, and his words were quite emotional. It seems that things are not just a simple failed assassination attempt.
But you've already failed once. I had no intention of prying into other people's thoughts; I could only fulfill my duty as a friend by reminding him. After all, even the noblest things are not worth sacrificing one's life for. Actually, I had already guessed that Yang Xi would increase his vigilance after we first left the Prime Minister's residence. However, it wasn't the Empire's Golden Knight Karna who came, but the Archmage Cross. So. Weilaman. To be able to summon such a powerful figure, Yang Xi's status in the Hierro Empire is truly extraordinary.
Yes. But I'm only a five-star.
I looked at Little Thorn's face, gently placed him on the roof tile, and asked with some doubt, "You, only a five-star?"
In my memory, with Little Thorn's skills, he should at least be a seven-star expert in the Dark Assassin Alliance. Could it be that they are deliberately hiding their strength?
In the doctrine of the Dark Assassin Alliance, a five-star assassin cannot assassinate the same target more than twice. Because, a person who fails twice in a row not only loses the right to remain at the five-star level, but also loses the right to survive in the Dark Assassin Alliance. This absolute system of survival of the fittest has spurred the development of the Dark Faction for hundreds of years, finally making it a shadowy force that can dominate the continent.
There's no excuse for failure. Even though you're facing a powerful figure like Cross, So, and Weilaman. I pondered for a moment, then asked, "What are your plans for the future?"
Little Thorn shook his head and smiled.
I didn't say anything more. Everyone has their own choices. I never try to change others, not even with the slightest suggestion. Why try to influence someone's thoughts? I like people who are different from me, so why try to make them similar to me?
Lying with him atop the tower, our gazes pierced through the swirling snowflakes to the deep night sky. We both know that behind that endless darkness lie countless stars.
Big Thorn.
Hmm?! Although I had given us names under my guidance, this was the first time he had called me that.
Yang Ling is getting married.
I turned to look at Little Thorn. What does this have to do with me?
She's your first woman. This is probably the most ridiculous conclusion I've ever heard. Even if someone pinned the blame for the rape and murder of the Golden Rooster of Belarus on me, I wouldn't be surprised. But for Little Thorn to say such a thing to a holy assassin with a reputation for lewdness that's been around for three years makes me want to laugh. He must be feverish. From the moment he appeared until now, I've felt that Little Thorn has changed.
Her? Hahaha. I laughed wildly, correcting him, "Little Thorn, I'm her first man."
Don't lie to me. I know she's different.
The laughter stopped abruptly. I glanced at Little Thorn but didn't refute him. Thinking of the long-standing, vivid scratch on my back, Little Thorn's words weren't without reason. But, Little Thorn, you don't know me well enough. Perhaps she can leave a mark on my body, but not in my heart.
Little Thorn. I've been around for three years, the Holy Maiden of the Dragon Clan—Julia. Feline is my first work!
I knew how much of a shock those seemingly casual words would cause him; at the very least, he would never be so confident in his previous views again. Julia. Philin, she was a goddess-like, holy being, possessing beauty, wisdom, status, and unparalleled martial arts skills—the model and idol of all women on the continent, and the supreme aspiration in the hearts of all men.
She was a great being that could not be profaned!
You're lying. I don't believe it.
Little Thorn's reaction was as I expected. I just sighed and didn't say anything more. Julia. Philin, you are the first woman in this world to leave a mark on my heart. Three years have passed, and there are still three years until our promised reunion.
Suddenly, a somber atmosphere enveloped Little Thorn and me. Love always has such an indescribable power to affect us.
A carriage sped towards us in the distance. Without even looking up, I could see these uninvited guests clearly. The magnificent carriage exuded a faint, refreshing fragrance, the very scent of my favorite butterfly-shaped flowers. The person sitting in the carriage must be a woman, perhaps a very charming one.
A squad of a dozen or so guards followed closely behind, clad in black armor, exuding a powerful aura of oppression in the snowy night. In the continent of Kemo, only royalty were entitled to ride in carriages; ordinary nobles and commoners could only drive motor vehicles. Science ranked after magic, and magic, in turn, ranked after nature.
The curtain of the carriage window was slowly lifted, revealing a youthful and stunningly beautiful face that instantly brightened my eyes and dispelled the melancholy in my heart.
Gazing at the night sky filled with countless ghostly figures, the girl reached out and caught a snowflake, watching it dissipate in her palm. "
You must be new to this city where I am." A glint of consciousness swept across the girl's delicate figure, and I pursed my lips, smiling silently.
Aside from missions, chatting atop the tower, and that gleam in his eyes when he saw a weapon, I wondered what else Little Thorn would be interested in. Gazing at the sky, as the sound of the wheels faded into the distance, he softly said, "From your eyes, I saw everything." He said he saw everything? Haha, my eyes aren't the windows to my soul. My weapon is my heart.
My heart has already stirred; that instantaneous hardening is truly captivating.
Sensing the magical signal on the carriage, I flipped to my feet, giving Little Thorn a disdainful smile, and watched the caravan follow.
When I have work to do, I never slack off. The caravan trailed far behind, the tire tracks and hoofprints in the direction they were heading filled me
with
increasing unease. When the caravan entered a magnificent mansion, I finally understood why the chaotic tracks in the snow felt so familiar.
Watching the girl's slender figure disappear into the deep courtyard of the Yang mansion, I couldn't help but hesitate. I have a strange rule that even I can't understand: I generally won't cross the line before a previous customer has made an invitation.
In fact, those I've assassinated all request two more assassination attempts within a week to a month, and I've always obliged. It's been over two months now. Women like Yang Ling who can endure loneliness aren't uncommon, but they're few and far between.
However, the fundamental principle of a holy assassin is to seek pleasure. When other principles conflict with it, I naturally choose the former. An assassin bound by principles won't be happy; I understand this very well. Principles are rigid, but methods are flexible.
Entering from the side of the courtyard, the moment I leaped over the high wall, I discovered the sensitive barrier.
Another masterpiece by Cross. So. Weilaman, isn't it? Perhaps it's because of the little assassin, but I felt a slight aversion to this person I'd never even met. However, the barrier he set up—effective against gods, demons, humans, and even machines—had no effect on me. I swayed, and like a gust of wind, I merged into the endless night.
Aside from myself, every creature living on the continent of Kemo possesses its own life imprint. It's something innate; regardless of race, everyone has this thing, scientifically named "DNA" and called "magical chromium" by mages.
I used this to complete my stalking mission before seducing the beauty. Although the imprint was very faint under the magical barrier of a less-than-expert, it was enough for a flower hunter of my level. Under
the watchful eyes of a renowned mage on this continent, I dared not be too arrogant. However, I was quite proud of my ability to conceal myself. Carefully avoiding the dark, powerful aura emanating from a corner, I pinpointed the beauty's location and drifted like a gust of wind to a half-open window.
The garden beside the window was ablaze with emerald green 'fireworks,' and through the faint shadows of the flowers, I saw my target sitting on a small stool.
Delicate eyebrows, a small mouth, and long eyelashes trembling slightly. The girl was engrossed in reading a book, a hazy joy on her face. Her long neck was snow-white, her shoulders delicate and graceful. When my gaze fell upon her full, rounded breasts, my eyes burned with intense desire.
What a lovely girl! I savored her beauty from bottom to top, finally fixing my gaze on her prominent chest.
If only I could peel back that layer of clothing, those ripe peaches would be mine. As I thought this, my invisibility spell activated simultaneously, sensing my presence.
Turning around, I looked up at the high pavilion and saw, behind the crimson railing, a woman of breathtaking beauty.
It was Yang Ling. However, compared to that night, she seemed much more haggard.
The girl gazed at the night sky, her exquisite face etched with an unyielding melancholy. Her lips parted slightly, and with an elegant gesture, she blew away a snowflake that fell into her palm. Two pearl-like drops of water spilled from her eyes, falling to the distant ground much faster than the snowflakes.
That expression, those tears—I knew them all too well. It must be something called lovesickness. Were you thinking of me? Then why didn't you release the curse?
I shook my head, withdrawing my gaze from the distance, and turned back to the beauty in my sights. Inside the bedroom, it was late at night again. The girl was dressed casually and intimately, a feast for my eyes. Her loose, sheer blouse billowed in the wind, instantly revealing her long, slender, white legs, even the faint glint of color at the base of her thighs.
Such a lithe and exquisitely beautiful figure made my trip worthwhile. But who was she? Did Yang Xi have a second daughter?
I dismissed this thought, gently pushed open the window, and jumped in as the beauty entered the inner room.
Ah, what a large bed. What a fragrant room.
I took a deep breath, waved my hand, dispelling my invisibility, and simultaneously set up my usual complex barrier around the room. I was quite satisfied with its soundproofing and anti-riot effects, even against Cross. "Weilaman, I think I'll have time to get dressed."
"Ah! Who are you?" the beautiful woman exclaimed, dropping the book she was holding. "
Your voice matches your appearance perfectly, a feast for the eyes, making my nighttime journey worthwhile." I stared at the terrified woman, letting my inner energy instinctively create a perfect protective layer, and calmly approached.
Although I'm not a lustful person, since Cross is here, I have to cherish my time; a moment of pleasure is worth a thousand pieces of gold. As for making another mage an enemy, that doesn't concern me. If we're talking about enemies who are truly powerful, I think no one in this world has more than me.
"Help! Someone help me!" the girl cried out as she retreated. The more composed I was, the more frightened she became. "
Hehe, when you moan in bed... I think you'll use a more emotional voice. That kind of moaning from the depths of your heart is the most beautiful and pure music in the world."
Yes, I truly enjoy the feeling of those sounds echoing in my ears. Whenever I wield my weapon and ride on a woman's body, I forget everything; the world is so perfect in that moment.
I flicked my finger, and the vase the girl threw at me instantly turned to dust. I followed her retreating footsteps and slipped into the pink gauze curtains. Gently binding the girl's hands, I first planted a kiss on her fair, rosy cheek. Her skin was beautiful, healthy and rosy; the moment I touched it, my heart fluttered. Still a virgin, I thought with delight, my hands becoming even gentler.
Watching the girl savor the shyness on her face, I gently restrained her frantically flailing hands and sincerely said, "Actually, I'm an assassin." As I spoke, I removed my already simple clothes.
Whether it's winter or summer, wearing only two layers of clothing is a habit I like. You know, getting dressed is tiring, and I've always been lazy. Of course, I do enjoy the corresponding exercise before getting dressed. Most importantly, every time I undress, the women say something that touches me deeply.
"You, shameless! You, lewd! Pervert!"
"Sigh. That's the profession I aspire to, but alas, I'm just an assassin." I don't care about her accusations; in my heart, being a pervert is just a slightly different profession. In this magical continent of science and magic, there's probably nothing that can surprise me anymore. But the legendary Mud King, who supposedly elevated the pervert's profession, is one of the few great figures I admire. Making women happy is always my guiding principle. Unlike those lowly flower-picking perverts, I always invest more effort and time before taking out my weapon.
The sound of the barrier being struck finally rang out outside. Within minutes, they had noticed the anomaly. After all, they're archmages; their lack of vigilance is surprising.
"What's your name?" I asked casually, taking advantage of the girl's panting.
"Yang Jia."
"Yang Jia? Are you also Yang Xi's daughter?" Yang Xi only has one daughter, so it's a bit strange that there's another one, Yang Jia, besides Yang. Then again, given Yang Xi's status, it's normal for him to have several illegitimate daughters. However, the girl, having recovered her senses, didn't answer my question, only glaring at me angrily while struggling in vain. At times like this, a woman's resistance is undoubtedly a flirtatious act for a man; that's where the thrill of forcing oneself upon someone lies. Unfortunately, this situation was special, and I didn't have time to play this game with her. I flicked my finger, placing a powerless barrier on Yang Jia, and the girl's resistance immediately weakened. Although it ruined the mood, there was nothing I could do.
With the strength of a mage, if my barrier hadn't been different from ordinary magical barriers, it would probably have already been broken by Kross. So. Weilaman.
Time was running out, and the first layer of the barrier was thinning. Although there was still a second layer of barrier set up in the room, I didn't want a group of vicious and ugly people watching me as I carried out the assassination. Just as I was about to plunge in, the girl suddenly laughed inexplicably, "Hehehe..." I was startled by her sudden strange reaction, not even noticing her slight sway of her snowy hips, causing her to shift her flower path and weapon away. In this respect alone, she was the most unique woman I had ever met. Looking at her beautiful, smiling face, I had a kind of dazed feeling.
Three years ago, An Qi seemed to have laughed like this when we first faced each other naked. It seems I'm not as heartless as I thought, nor do I possess that ability to leave no trace.
Just as I was feeling somewhat frustrated by my discovery, the girl said something that surprised me again, "Why haven't you looked into my eyes from the beginning until now?" I was stunned again, my fingers involuntarily stopping. This was indeed a very unusual request. I stared intently at her.
Chapter Six of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms: Humiliation of the Enemy
"Look, is there your shadow in there?"
"Hmm?"
A bright light suddenly flashed in her deep blue, watery eyes, shooting into my gaze like lightning.
"Ah!" I cried out in surprise, my body rapidly retreating. "Autumn Wave Sword Qi!?" In an instant, countless thoughts flashed through my mind, and I finally gained a new understanding of the seemingly frail woman before me. Looking across the entire continent, there are only two people who can use their eyes to unleash sword qi: a master and a disciple. Therefore, the true identity of this woman who 'accidentally' called herself Yang Jia becomes clear. It seems this was all a scheme specifically set up to deal with me, but the sacrifices you've made are considerable. My peripheral vision swept over 'Yang Jia's' naked body, which had become as swift as lightning in the blink of an eye, and with a mocking smile playing on my lips, I leaped into the air.
You think you can keep me here? Heh, I am the only holy assassin in this world.
The astonishment from the sudden change in my heart hadn't yet subsided when the barrier shattered just as I rose into the air. Almost simultaneously, a scorching stream of air surged out, and dozens of fierce lightning bolts, accompanied by thunderous roars, struck towards me.
This person wasn't the Kross. So. Weilaman I had guessed. Lightning, though powerful, was clearly ineffective against a master like me. But I still carefully dodged it. The real threat lay in the shadows.
"You lecherous thief, die!" My eyes were still aching unbearably. I dodged another sword strike from 'Yang Jia' by instinct. Amidst flying wood chips, several more lightning bolts intertwined and swirled towards me.
"Beautiful lady, was everything you did before just to lure me into this trap?" Although I had miscalculated for a moment, I wasn't panicked. In fact, on this continent of Kemo, no one had ever truly defeated me.
"You lecherous thief! Today I will tear you to pieces!" the woman cried out, all traces of her previous fragility gone. Although I couldn't see anything at the moment, I could still imagine her expression of shame and indignation. Her entire body had been touched by a man she hated and despised, even her private sanctuary had been violated by his fingers; the complexity of her feelings was unimaginable. However, while I could imagine it, I couldn't fathom her thoughts.
"Hahaha. For me, you've already planned to sacrifice your chastity if necessary? What a noble and touching resolve! But you can't fool me. Those beliefs aren't enough to make you so restrained, are they? After all, the feeling of being gently caressed by a man is very comfortable, isn't it? If I had penetrated you at that moment, I don't think you would have refused. The way you looked then, you were truly moved; you can't fool me." I dodged the woman's frantically unleashed sword energy while constantly humiliating her. Making a Saint Swordsman-level warrior lose her composure was crucial for my successful breakout.
"You bastard, stop right there! Come and take my sword if you dare!"
"I'm going to kill you, shut up!"
"You lecher! Die! Shameless, vile! Why don't you try to dodge? Take my sword, a shower of petals, die!" The woman, knowing she was powerless to argue, simply raged like a shrew, her scattered sword energy flying in all directions. In the blink of an eye, the exquisite little building was reduced to a dilapidated ruin.
Listening to the sounds outside, I knew the woman's frenzied sword energy had not only blocked my retreat, but also disrupted our previous plans, leaving the two in the shadows somewhat disheveled. At least, that villain no longer dared to unleash his lightning strikes so recklessly. The time was ripe; it was time to add fuel to the fire.
"You've gone to great lengths, haven't you? Lord Cross, is it really possible for you to rely on a woman selling her body to cover for you? Is this the true power of a legendary archmage? Or do you simply enjoy this kind of method? Which is worse, your magic or your character? You, who have been watching all this time, must have been unable to suppress your excitement, right? After all, spying is quite thrilling." I closed my eyes, sensing that the complex spell cast by someone outside was nearing its success. I had no choice but to launch a verbal attack on this supposedly righteous and compassionate archmage, but my plan was clearly ineffective. This old man's composure was truly admirable. With a wave of my hand, I redirected the lightning bolt that someone had suddenly unleashed, and as I moved, dozens of illusory figures appeared.
'Yang Jia' was exhausted, panting heavily, still cursing incessantly.
"Are you alright?" The person hiding finally couldn't hold back any longer and slipped out during the woman's pause for breath. Unfortunately, this person was not the one I wanted to see.
"She's fine. She just had her first orgasm." I laughed, seizing every opportunity to enrage my opponent.
"You lecherous scoundrel. You think you can defile the beautiful and holy Golden Knight?" the man retorted, falling right into my trap.
"Oh, so only you can defile this Golden Knight who seduced me with her body?" Perhaps my words were too provocative, for the Golden Knight calmed down after her companion appeared.
"How despicable!" the man gritted his teeth in response.
After his voice, several more bolts of lightning struck. The still-restrained Cross made me feel somewhat pressured. Although I appeared calm on the surface, a smile even with my eyes closed, I wasn't so carefree inside. It was truly despicable; in over twenty years, this was the first time I'd been outmaneuvered. And by the very beauty I'd chosen, the one who had just been writhing in my arms!
"What could be wrong? Kill this idiot for me first!" 'Yang Jia' replied to the man in a coquettish voice, her tone surprisingly alluring.
The woman's unusually soft and seductive voice ignited my anger. I gently slapped away the lightning, dispersing the pain in my eyes, and glared at the beautiful woman who had been moaning in my arms moments before, now looking like a demon with a cold and fierce expression. I didn't know when, but she had donned a light green robe. A woman wearing men's clothes had a unique charm, especially such a captivating beauty. With a face still flushed, the expression of shame and embarrassment on her face made her suddenly appear mature, no longer the petite and innocent girl I had seen before.
"Are you really the Golden Knight, Garna?!" I had never heard of Picasso having a beautiful apprentice, but the blue light in her eyes was undoubtedly Picasso's unique skill—the Autumn Wave Spirit Sword.
"Hmph! It's too late now. Let me announce your doomsday." Before Karna could speak, the man emitting lightning blurted out obsequiously. He spoke smugly as he set up a binding barrier outside the room.
The man's confident expression was truly repulsive to me, and in fact, he was an utterly hideous figure. His face was shaped like a millstone, as if he'd been stepped on several times at birth; his flat, shiny black nose did resemble a certain part of his genitals. He was looking at me with a straight face, but his eyes kept glancing at the beautiful woman beside him. Any man with a conscience would probably be furious at the sight. The ugly man and beautiful woman standing side by side was truly unpleasant to me.
I dared not look at him again, lest I lose control and give that hidden, different person an advantage. I ignored the ugly man's idiotic words and stared only at the cold and beautiful Karna. Just moments before, she was a frail lamb, but now she had transformed into a swordswoman exuding endless killing intent. Looking at the clothes she wore and the sword in her hand, I was still skeptical.
"The renowned Golden Knight, the Holy Swordsman, is actually a beautiful woman?" "Can't a Holy Swordsman be a woman?" Karna roared, wildly swinging her sword. Although she acted fiercely, I still managed to catch a glimpse of panic in her eyes. Perhaps it was my piercing smile that provoked her. Karna suddenly unleashed a rain of sword strikes, her voice icy as she shouted, "Your perfect defense has been broken. I'll make you suffer a terrible death." "Is that so?" I smiled noncommittally, offering no resistance, and looked at the man who was trying to bind me with his rope technique. "And you? And who are you?" The ugly man smiled smugly again. "Haven't you seen me before?" (
Chapter Seven of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms: Outwitting
Such an outstanding figure, I thought, must have had some kind of effect.) But I searched my memory thoroughly, yet I still couldn't recall which lover's husband the man before me was.
"Is that so? Have I seen you before?" I asked inexplicably, while simultaneously activating my aura to deflect Karna's sword rain. At the same time, I was also distracted, searching for the location of Cross. So. Weilaman. At this moment, I couldn't afford to be careless. Karna was right; my perfect defense had indeed been broken.
As the most powerful protective divine skill resulting from the fusion of magic and science, Perfect Defense truly lives up to its name. With this skill, I've roamed freely for years, never fearing a woman's ambush during intimate moments. Even a woman with the abilities of a Holy Swordsman couldn't possibly bite my weapon.
But now, things are terrible. I've encountered the successor of Picasso, the founder of the Eye of the Mind. A single flirtatious glance has made me experience the feeling of Perfect Defense being breached for the first time.
The ugly man forced a hateful sneer, making his already distorted face even more repulsive. "Three years ago, in the An General's Mansion in the ancient city of Loulan, do you remember the handsome general you softened and threw into the Jade Pool?" Handsome general? His mention of him suddenly brought it to mind. Looking at the ugly man's face again, I realized, "Oh, it's General Stephen Pig. What happened to you?" The last sentence was clearly a deliberate attempt to humiliate him. While fending off the combined attack of the 'handsome general' and the beautiful swordswoman, I recalled a past event that had long since faded from my heart.
My assassination attempt on An Qi occurred after a turbulent period. Those days had just ended my relationship with Julia Felin, the Dragon Girl. I was torn between sticking to my original intention of becoming a free-spirited, holy assassin, or turning over a new leaf and becoming a carefree, idyllic couple with the Dragon Girl. And then this self-proclaimed dashing and skilled martial artist, Stephen Pig, provoked me.
As a trusted general under An Qi, the First General stationed in the ancient city of Loulan in the Roman Empire, and the son of the Governor of Fama Province, Stephen Pig was undoubtedly one of An Qi's most outstanding suitors. Judging from the way they exchanged glances and chatted amiably as they entered the bar side-by-side, it seemed only a matter of time before the beauty was in his arms. Unfortunately, getting involved with me was the greatest misfortune of his life.
First, he issued a stern warning because my gaze lingered on An Qi for a moment, and then he actually launched a sneak attack on me. Unfortunately, he met me. His prized skills crumbled before me, and after losing face, I made a bet in front of An Qi that would make me famous overnight.
"Within three days, I will take your virginity." I remember when I uttered these shocking words in front of so many people, besides fear, everyone just thought I was delusional. However, An Qi, being a woman, saw in my eyes a madness and seriousness hidden behind my arrogance. So, leaving behind
a bunch of fools who came to help, I gracefully left the Sabbath and, three days later, won the bet. In the process, I cast a softening spell on this once handsome general, altering his bones and flesh, then stomped on his face a few times before throwing him into the Jade Pool, and escaped unscathed from the ghostly hands of the continent's renowned mage, Kross So. Weilaman.
I just never expected that the softened and reconstructed once handsome general would become like this. What a sin! Recalling that past event, looking at the ugly man before me, I felt a strange sense of familiarity.
The thought that Anna, the most famous general of the Roman Empire, almost became this man's wife sent a chill down my spine.
"Handsome General, how has my beloved Anqi been lately?"
"You lecher! Shameless! Die!" After a prolonged and fruitless assault, this 'ugly man' finally went berserk. Countless bolts of lightning suddenly flashed across his body, as if he were clad in a magnificent electric net, his hair steaming, his muscles bulging instantly. Amidst two gasps of alarm, he lunged at me with outstretched arms.
Destructive lightning? It seems his hatred for me is truly immense, resorting to such a suicidal move. I sighed, instantly transforming into a giant blade, severing the binding magical energy. I teleported outside the small building just before a gray ball of light reached me.
"Pig!"
"Nephew!"
"Ah? Why bother?" I sighed softly, finding it laughable. I'd never seen such a narrow-minded man before. Although I cast a softening spell on him three years ago, if he had rested peacefully for a few months, he should have fully recovered. Now, in this state, something must have happened after I left the ancient city of Loulan.
I remember I stomped very lightly; it wouldn't have disfigured him like this. To play a game of self-destruction over such a trivial matter—that's hardly the behavior of a responsible, mature man.
Stephen Pig was on the verge of self-destruction. After losing sight of me, he lunged back, only to be easily dodged again. The lightning's energy grew stronger, the air scorching hot, and some of the surrounding wooden objects began to spontaneously combust. Seeing the thickening smoke around him, I knew that if I didn't intervene, he would truly explode into a pile of minced meat.
I certainly don't have that kind of compassion, and Garna doesn't have that ability either. So the only one who can save him is that mage hiding in the shadows, passionately calling out "Nephew!" Given Stephen Pig's status, surely Cross wouldn't stand idly by and watch the son of a provincial governor die just to ambush a mere assassin like me. Besides, it's rumored that this ugly man's father, Stephen Roger, is the biggest benefactor of his Ghost Island laboratory.
Sure enough, just after I dodged the ugly man's hungry pounce once again, Cross So. Weilaman, whom I'd been waiting for, finally appeared. This strange old man must have been quite frustrated, hiding like a dog for over ten minutes, only to have to give up a golden opportunity to attack with all his might, all to distract him from saving the "ugly self-destructive man." The ghostly chill, refined from the essence of vengeful spirits, that this sinister and profound mage shot at me was much warmer.
The archmage's gaunt figure flashed past amidst the surging air currents. I seized the opportunity to break through the first layer of the trigger-type destruction barrier secretly set up by Kross. Even though Kross had lost some energy, the powerful attack he had accumulated over so long still sent a chill down my spine.
Watching that gray, ghostly spirit shatter into nothingness under my high-pressure counterattack, Kross let out a roar of unwilling anger, but his raised hands struck at the already irrational Stephen Pig.
"Hahaha. Master Kross, is it necessary for you to save that good-for-nothing?" "Three years have passed, and you're still as pedantic as ever."
"Or is letting you see my true form this time your greatest gain from this trip?" "But do you know which face is the real me? Hahaha!" I laughed wildly, relentlessly provoking him with words, while secretly breaking through eight more powerful trigger barriers. If I hadn't been prepared, touching this "Nine-Nine Unity" barrier would have instantly concentrated all the energy that formed it. Although I was confident enough, I still didn't want to directly confront such a powerful magical attack.
Cross. So. Weilaman remained silent. With a flash of white light, Stephen Pigg quickly recovered, but I had easily dispelled the last layer of the barrier. Now was the time to leave.
"Hahaha, you think you can trap me like this?" I laughed arrogantly, casting a deep glance at the eager Garna, then with an incredibly carefree gesture, I stepped into the void.
"Spatial teleportation?!"
"Void shattering?!"
This technique naturally seemed ambiguous to them; to a mage it looked like magical teleportation, to a swordsman it looked like wielding profound energy to pierce the void. However, it was very effective. In the blink of an eye, I had broken through the encirclement, but the instant I stepped into the alternate dimension, I suddenly looked back and saw Yang Ling's seemingly resentful yet tender gaze in the bamboo building not far away.
Was she worried about me? Or was she reluctant to let me leave? She missed me, so why didn't she undo the spell? Sigh, I sighed, suddenly feeling somewhat disinterested.
The gasps of a man and a woman around me had faded. I stood in the endless, ethereal void, gazing at the snow-covered night sky of another world, feeling the blood seeping from the corners of my eyes. I couldn't help but sigh, "I never expected that she would actually break through my perfect defense!" This autumn has been full of surprises. But isn't it precisely this kind of unexpected turn of events that makes life so exciting? I had no interest in researching whether I could find a way to strengthen my perfect defense. What interested me more was that a Golden Knight, a Holy Swordsman with the potential to enter the Holy Realm, was actually such a beautiful and radiant young woman!
Life would no longer be lonely.
Imagining what it would be like to hold a Golden Knight in my arms and ravage her as much as possible, I licked my lips, casting one last glance through the endless clouds at the already chaotic Yang Mansion, before merging into the night of this alternate dimension with a somewhat excited feeling.
Chapter Eight: Dream. The secret man's strong body pressed down on her forcefully. She felt like she was suffocating, but I am a Holy Swordsman, I am still a Golden Knight, I cannot lose.
A strange thought suddenly popped into her head, and she shyly stared into the man's eyes, meeting his gaze. "Could you...could I touch your weapon?"
The man didn't speak, only smiled wickedly.
Her heart raced instantly, her breathing became heavy, and she tremblingly reached out her small hands towards the man's lower body...but she touched nothing, because the man had already turned her over, his large hands forcefully kneading her buttocks again. "Jiajia, let me tattoo a few words on you." As
he spoke, the itchy and painful sensation from his nails made her groan involuntarily. "What...what words are you tattooing?" "
A number, my number for you. All my women have a number."
"Do you have many women?"
"Yes, I'm an assassin."
She laughed, then suddenly asked, "How many women do you have?"
The man made her bend over, sticking her buttocks out, before slowly saying, "You are my 3,836,983,130th woman."
"Ah, so many? I don't believe it." She reached back, straining to touch her buttocks, but instead of her own, she reached for the man's waist. "Let me touch your weapon." "
Don't you believe me?" The man deliberately grabbed her hand, speaking in an extremely serious tone. "This statistic was generated under IP address restrictions. There's no more accurate statistical method in the entire continent of Kemo." "
What's an IP address?"
"It's a new science." As he spoke, the man suddenly lifted her up.
She felt a wave of dizziness, and a sudden tension made her entire body tense instantly.
At this moment, the man said in a strange voice, "Jarna, I'm going in."
Her body seemed to be torn apart instantly, and a sharp pain shot through her…
"Ah—! No—!" Garna screamed in horror, abruptly sitting up in bed. Her chest heaved violently as she gasped for breath, wiping away cold sweat. Garna looked around in bewilderment for a long time before finally confirming that everything before had just been a dream.
She sighed with relief, but then a strange look appeared on her face. Her small hand trembled as she reached out and touched her smooth, white buttocks.
Oh. Still so smooth and delicate, without any words. Thinking of this, Karna's face suddenly flushed red, her eyes flashing with light, sometimes cold, sometimes hot.
"That lecher. I must kill him." Karna thought hatefully, jumping off the bed. Her starry eyes darted around and she saw the unusual wet patch on the sheet, which had soaked a large area where her buttocks were.
Karna froze, staring silently at the wet patch. Her beautiful face changed expressions constantly, an indiscernible mix of emotions surging within her. Her efforts to hold back finally shattered, and she suddenly collapsed onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.
Outside the door, a handsome young man hesitated whether to knock on Karna's door. He raised his hand several times, but finally knocked. This man was none other than the 'self-destructive man' Stephen Pig, who had gone berserk in a fit of rage that day and had been saved by Cross at the last moment. Fortunately, given his physical condition at the time, Cross cleverly neutralized the remaining softening toxins in his body, unexpectedly restoring him to his original appearance.
Normally, he wouldn't have dared to risk his life to regain his looks.
"Click, click." Stephen Pig knocked for a while, waiting for the noise inside to subside before muttering, "Um, Jiajia, someone's looking for you." "Get out!" Jiana suddenly roared, swinging her hand, sending a sword aura flying towards the door.
Stephen Pig quickly pulled his neck back, looking at the strands of hair floating in the air, his expression awkward, caught in a dilemma.
"What's wrong?" Yang Ling walked over at this moment.
"Oh, perfect timing. Lingling, can you pass on a message to her for me?" Stephen Pig said, carefully pointing to the room with his finger.
"What message?" Yang Ling curiously peeked into Jiana's eyes, who was buried in the blankets, her face showing disbelief. So her sister could cry too.
"Tell her. The gentleman has arrived; the knight who has pursued her for five years has arrived." The gentleman's arrival also meant that another person had arrived. Yang Ling's face instantly turned pale.
"Under the escort of the Sinmadas Knights led by the Golden Paladin, the gentleman's entourage arrived at the Prime Minister's residence three minutes ago." Stephen Pig finished speaking quickly and ran away as if fleeing. He didn't notice the fleeting look of despair on Yang Ling's face.
As the son of Havis Duma, the Western War God and the leader of the four great war gods of the Komo Continent, Kerell... The marriage between Duma and Yang Ling was highly anticipated by both the Heroic Empire and the Saint-Tempilon Empire. Yang Xi and Havis were pillars of both empires, holding important positions, and their marriage was essentially seen as an extension of the royal alliance between the two countries three years prior, with extremely profound political implications.
This Corel was a remarkable young hero, while Yang Ling was a renowned virtuous and beautiful woman in the Roman Empire. Since their brief encounter three years prior, Corel had been captivated by Yang Ling, and after much effort, with the support of both kings and their parents, he finally embarked on his marriage proposal.
Yang Ling had also harbored feelings for Corel. Although their union was undoubtedly influenced by political factors, it was still a beautiful and mutually agreeable marriage.
But... but... how should she face him now? A man's image surfaced in Yang Ling's mind. He turned around indifferently, "Actually, I'm also an assassin." Yang Ling's eyes instantly welled up with tears. She stumbled open the door, rushed to the bedside, and embraced Garna, whose shoulders were sobbing uncontrollably, bursting into tears herself. Was this what they called being bound by fate? But at this moment, who could truly know the truth?
Some dreams haunt the heart. Some things leave devastating marks.
Of course, I, the culprit, could not possibly know what happened at the Yang residence; I was having another dream.
Is there anyone in this world who has never dreamed? Probably not. Dreams seem like a very common and ordinary thing. But setting aside all the so-called knowledge and science you've learned, how would you define a dream? What exactly is a dream?
My dream is simple; it's a memory. A memory of my past life.
I've lived on the continent of Kemo for over twenty years. Since I achieved perfect defense at sixteen, I haven't dreamed at all.
Twenty-two years! For the first time, someone broke my perfect defense. In a meadow full of butterfly blue flowers, I awoke from meditation, from the only dream I'd had in six years. My perfect defense was once again repaired, albeit imperfectly. My eyes remained my only weakness, my most fatal one.
But only one person in this world possessed the Autumn Wave Spirit Sword. When I didn't give her a chance, even this last weakness vanished.
It was the same familiar scene, the same familiar feeling.
For so many years, since I was still human, this dream has accompanied me. It startled me awake, blurring my vision without my realizing it.
Gazing at the vast, white expanse of another world, I wiped away the dampness from the corner of my eye, erasing the traces of memory. Then I withdrew my gaze, observing this otherworld for the twenty-second time in twenty-two years.
A void that could be stepped into in a single step, yet no matter how many times I passed by, I only saw it once a year.
Endless forests, endless green, endless oceans, endless blue… birds, beasts, insects, fish…
flowers, grass, trees, wind…
but no one. Not a single person. The one I waited for was still not there.
The sealing power remained as strong as ever, the magical aura, sometimes faint, sometimes strong, pervasive in this space. Everything was unchanged, more than twenty years had passed, and it was still the same.
Lying quietly on the grass, I gazed at the endless sky, letting my thoughts wander. So long, so very long. If I don't recall it now, perhaps I will truly forget.
That was another world, another cycle of reincarnation. If being an assassin was my present life, then everything I remembered was my past life, wasn't it?
That world. That year I was seven years old. That winter, my only remaining relative left me.
The snow that year was heavy and white. Crimson blood splattered down, then bloomed on the dazzling white snow.
The plum blossoms bloomed, and my brother was gone.
I am a nameless person. My brother told me, "Brother, you have no name."
I also have no parents. From as far back as I can remember, my brother has been my only caregiver. My brother's back is my home.
The snow continued to fall, gradually covering the messy footprints and scattered corpses on the ground, until even the last trace of crimson was stained white.
I have no home anymore. Wrapped in a tattered straw mat, I buried my brother in a forest at the foot of Zorro Peak. Besides that straw mat, this sword is my only possession.
I am a person without tears. My hand gently strokes the blade, and the purple blade is stained with a layer of crimson. Brother, you have no name, and you have no tears.
Brother, what are tears?
I don't know either.
Do you have any?
I had them a long time ago. My brother stared at me as I wolfed down my food, his eyes gleaming with a white light.
I knelt there quietly, the mound of earth in front of me still speckled with blood. "
Brother, look, I'm not afraid of red anymore." I raised my hands, my ten bloodied fingers making practiced movements. "
Brother, look, I've learned all these techniques."
This forest was deep; I knew that once I left, I would never find this place again. My brother would sleep there alone, just as I would have to wander the world alone.
I grew up on my brother's back; his back was broad, and he was steady when running. No one could get very close behind him. My brother said there was no sword faster than his in this world. Except for the Demon King Wind and the Spirit Realm Flash Dragon, there was no creature that could run faster than him.
I said, "Brother, when we grow up, let's run together." My
brother smiled, "Little brother, when we grow up, we won't have to run anymore."
My brother also said, "I'm someone who faces enemies, and so are you."
I nodded. My brother's back was broad, and he was steady when running.
That day, as we crossed the Monaco Plain, my brother proudly declared that in this beautiful space, we were the last two humans still free. Like eagles and swallows in the sky, he said that when I grew up, we could fly and sing together.
My brother's voice was so beautiful that I would fall asleep while listening to it.
When I woke up, he was still running at top speed; he was someone who never slept. From as far back as I can remember, we were always on the run, running for seven whole years.
That was my childhood.
Brother, why did we run?
Because you were still young.
Brother, why did they kill us?
Because they were the enemy.
What is an enemy? The
person you will kill when you grow up.
Brother, I don't like killing; I'm afraid of the color red. My
brother stopped, gazing at the eagles in the sky, and after a long while, he softly said, "Brother, slowly, you will come to like red."
I fell asleep, quietly nestled on my brother's back.
I knelt there, my brother's words still echoing in my ears. My brother had said that once I got off his back, I would grow up.
As my brother crushed the Demon King Feng's heart, Feng's claws pierced through his chest, leaving a trail of red—my least favorite color.
That year, I was seven. I picked up my brother's sword and, with a smile, pierced the Demon King's other heart; Feng's blood was black. The sword was heavy.
Brother, you've grown up. From now on, I can no longer carry you. My brother is gone. He smiled at me and whispered, "
Brother, where are you? If you're gone, who delivered the message that you're about to be resurrected?" I'm useless. So many years have passed, and I still haven't been able to stain that cold sword with the blood of my enemy. Twenty-two years have passed. In another world, your brother is already twenty-two years old.
My vision blurred again. I sighed. I shouldn't think about it anymore. I shouldn't think about it anymore. So many years have passed; if I could forget, I would have forgotten long ago.
I took a deep breath, waved my hand to tear open the spatial interface, and as Yang Ling and Karna embraced and wept, I, with mixed feelings, calmly jumped into the void of the Komo Continent.

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