Returning to the Mysterious Era-Chapter 404 - Lets Do Another Strike

Upon hearing the name of the force behind the Shadow Thorn Organization, Ghost-Man felt no fear whatsoever. For ordinary people, the Royal Family of the Hongli Empire was an enormous power. But to a marked-one from the Black Rain Manor, it was nothing but a figurehead. And Ghost-Man, a top-tier knight-level, rivaled the strength of a combat artist. Even the once-thriving royal family, before the revolution, hadn't inspired a shred of caution in him. He wasn't afraid of vague threats.

Under the shadow of the high walls, Ghost-Man stood shrouded in a black robe, as if he was merging into the darkness. He held a scythe in his right hand, its sharp tip slowly dripping with fresh blood. With a slight shake, he flicked the blood off with his strength, and the blade's smooth, silver-black surface gleamed anew in the light.

Sunlight hit the tip of the scythe, causing it to gleam a sharp white.

Schwing...

The enormous scythe trembled slightly before vanishing into the shadows.

Half an hour later, at the headquarters of the Shadow Thorn Organization, an assassin returned from completing a mission and entered the courtyard. What met his eyes were severed limbs and mutilated corpses scattered everywhere. Black-red blood splattered every corner, staining walls, trees, and the floor, with the heaviest pools in the drainage ditch, where a thin layer of congealed blood had formed.

The nauseating stench of blood was so intense that even this professional assassin, accustomed to death, found it unsettling. He walked cautiously through the courtyard.

Assassins of varying levels within the Shadow Thorn Organization lay dead on the ground. Even the top-tier assassins could be seen occasionally, lying lifeless in piles, their heads severed and faces still covered in blood. The twisted expressions and despairing eyes seemed to reveal the horrific sight they'd encountered before death.

The returning assassin continued on, finally arriving at the body of the organization's leader. This once-powerful and ruthless man had been tortured to the point of near-unrecognizability, lying bloodied and broken. One hand clawed at a gap in the floor tiles, fingernails sunk deeply into the crevices, leaving signs of a desperate struggle. Blood splatters around the area bore testament to his final moments.

Seeing this, the assassin immediately understood: Florence's top assassination organization, Shadow Thorn, was utterly destroyed!

Half an hour later, in Florence's Third District.

Gary, a subordinate of Lion King Soss, listened in disbelief as his informant repeated the news.

"The Shadow Thorn headquarters was attacked last night. Every assassin stationed there was killed, including six top-tier assassins and the organization's leader," the man stammered, swallowing nervously, clearly shocked.

"Shadow Thorn...gone?" Gary still couldn't believe it. He slumped onto the sofa, poured himself a glass of water, and sat in stunned silence.

"Could this have something to do with last night's events?" Gary couldn't help but make the connection. Yesterday, he had issued the assassination order targeting White Aster, the Hunter. Shadow Thorn had failed the mission.

What's more, the assassin known as Shadow Wolf had exploded in front of him, nearly scaring Gary to death.

After the failure of the assassination attempt last night, this morning, the entire Shadow Thorn headquarters had been slaughtered and destroyed. It was impossible to believe there was no connection between the two events. Gary suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of crisis. As the contact for the mission, he feared he might be the next target. Soss was a royal family member with formidable power, protection, and backing; even if someone found out, he would likely be safe.

But Gary was different; he was merely a subordinate—a dog of the royals, at best.

The mysterious force that had wiped out Shadow Thorn wouldn't fear the royal family, and certainly wouldn't hesitate to eliminate him. If they traced things back to him...

The thought of such a terrifying outcome made Gary shiver. His whole body broke out in a cold sweat, and his heart thumped wildly in his chest.

"No, I can't stay here! I need to be near Soss—that's the safest place!" Gary downed his glass of cold water in one gulp and stood up in an instant.

But then, with a loud thud, he fell to his knees, legs trembling on the floor.

A towering scythe rested heavily on his shoulder, its weight like that of a mountain, forcing Gary to kneel. The cold, sharp touch on his neck and the bloody stench filling his nose made his limbs tremble uncontrollably. He swallowed hard and managed to lift his head slightly.

A tall figure cloaked in a thick black robe stood before him. freewebnoveℓ.com

The figure held the enormous scythe in his right hand, pressing it against Gary's shoulder. In his left hand, he grasped one of Gary's subordinates by the face, lifting him effortlessly into the air.

The subordinate flailed in a desperate struggle, kicking his legs, but it was all in vain.

"You were the one who commissioned last night's mission, correct?"

A cold, hoarse voice echoed from behind the mask.

"Yes...yes, sir," Gary lowered his head, not daring to meet the eyes behind the mask.

Another half hour passed; by now, it was already past eight in the morning.

The sun hung high in the sky, half hidden by winding clouds, while the other half radiated light and warmth, casting a glow over the azure blue sky. Florence city was becoming lively again, as streams of people gathered and dispersed through the residential and commercial districts.

Florence's Second District—home to the Hongli Council, with vast public government buildings and located near the royal palace in the First District.

In a shadowy alley, a tall figure appeared as if out of nowhere.

Taking a step forward, it was as though he emerged from the darkness itself. Heavy boots made no sound against the ground. He propped the shaft of his scythe against the corner.

The sharp tip angled downward, piercing a fallen leaf in mid-air.

Ghost-Man had always been steady and responsible. He had promised Cassius he'd make an attempt to eliminate Lion King Soss.

He was a marked-one from Black Rain Manor, a top-tier knight-level. If he were to be categorized by worldly standards, he was a solitary, reckless man with nothing to lose, a dangerous individual aligned with dark forces.

Of course, Ghost-Man hadn't always been this way. His past was scarred with an unforgettable experience. Every marked-one chosen by Black Rain Manor had suffered through misfortunes; hardship and misery were almost routine. But those were tales of the past, ones Ghost-Man no longer wished to recall.

At this stage in his life, only two things motivated him.

First thing was to pursue strength, enough to control his own fate.

The second was to break free from the control of Black Rain Manor. If possible, he wished to see Black Rain Manor destroyed! For every ounce of power a marked-one gained from Black Rain Manor, there was equal hatred for the place. The struggle and rebellion against it never ceased, especially for a marked-one of Ghost-Man's caliber.

Ghost-Man had allied with Cassius to pursue strength. Although the World of Calamity was incredibly dangerous, it was also a treasure trove. If he could solve the problem of Calamity invasion infecting souls, Ghost-Man would be able to draw on Soul Power in abundance, taking his skills to their absolute peak.

Only then would he have the strength to truly resist Black Rain Manor.

In this process, Cassius was indispensable as the leading partner in their collaboration. He also possessed formidable strength, qualifying him to set the rules. Ghost-Man was a pragmatic individual who was willing to please Cassius for power, not to mention, it was a debt of gratitude for Cassius saving his life.

Thus, Ghost-Man actively sought to bring in Iron Knight as a new partner for Cassius's plans and took on the task of investigating the assassination attempt. He was even unafraid of targeting members of the royal family within the palace in Florence. Hidden in the wall's shadow, Ghost-Man stood like a statue, completely still. The Black Rain Manor's Hellsings were always top-notch assassins.

Meanwhile, inside the palace, the Lion King, Soss, was bidding farewell to the princess.

Ahead of him stood the Ninth Princess, adorned in a light green, elegant court gown, radiating charm. At nineteen, she was beautiful and graceful, her lace-trimmed bodice accentuating her curves, with her swan-like neck and slender, toned calves basked in sunlight, resembling floating ice on a sea surface.

This Ninth Princess, Angela, was the object of Soss's recent pursuits. Or rather, a woman he had grown close to lately. For the past six months, Soss had been friendly with three princesses. The timing was deliberate, as it coincided with the injury of Number Four, a Shadow Hunter named Soul Scythe, leaving a vacancy in the Hunter's Guild.

With his formidable strength and royal support, Soss had a strong chance of competing for the Shadow Hunter role, estimated at fifty percent on paper. This was a mutually beneficial situation for Soss and the royal family. If he succeeded, he would soon marry one of the princesses—any princess of his choice.

This was the status and influence that power brought.

In the palace's rear garden, flowers bloomed brightly, arranged with care among well-trimmed trees. The air was filled with the fragrance of flowers and greenery.

Soss bowed slightly, took Angela's delicate fingers, and performed a hand-kissing gesture. He smiled perfectly, embodying the image of a gallant gentleman as he departed.

Once he turned, his smile vanished, his gaze no longer show any signs of admiration. He was certainly no naive gentleman, nor a noble heir daunted by royalty. He was an aspiring Shadow Hunter, a future elite of the Dark Hunter Organization. He was certainly sure of that.

Marrying a princess was merely a matter of binding mutual interests to solidify his own position. No matter how beautiful or graceful the princesses were, he was well aware that these arrangements were closer to political marriages than romances. Could Soss ever truly love a princess? Of course not! Though not a womanizer, he often accompanied his so-called friends to the city's entertainment district for amusements.

In his heart, Soss was clear of what the foundation on which everything in his life was built upon: his ambition to secure the Shadow Hunter role!

Soss strode swiftly through the palace corridors, unfazed by the armored guards stationed at every post. Around eight-thirty, he left the palace, walking along the wide avenue connecting the Central City District to the Second City District.

Soss, with his brilliant golden hair and robust figure, fit perfectly into his noble attire, exuding strength and elegance. As he gazed towards the roadside, he saw a beautifully decorated noble carriage parked nearby, a healthy steed waiting patiently, and a gray-clad coachman standing by respectfully.

Soss approached, ready to board, when a chilling sense of danger prickled his back, making every hair on his body stand up.

Swish!

A heavy weapon sliced in a crescent arc, its sharp blade slashed through the air, aiming straight for the carriage.

"An expert!"

Faced with death, Soss instantly erupted with strength. His noble attire tore to shreds, revealing his muscular build, refined by years of arcane energy infusion. His skin appeared to have a hardened shell, gleaming like armor. He spread his arms, adopting a fierce stance, and unleashed a roaring punch towards the threat beside him.

"Roar!"

It sounded like the actual cry of a mighty lion.

But in the next instant, the lion had its arm slashed off by a cold blade!

Soss groaned and staggered backward. His powerful left arm fell to the ground, blood gushing from the severed surface. Were it not for his decades of arcane energy tempering and the fast reaction speed he'd honed from practicing the Mad Lion Fist, that scythe would have killed him instantly.

"Hm?"

The cloaked figure, face hidden beneath a mask, held the reaper's scythe. He seemed surprised that Soss had survived his strike.

"So you didn't die? Then let's do another strike..."

He raised his scythe, blocking the sunlight above.

"Run! I'll hold him off!"

Suddenly, the seemingly ordinary coachman charged forward, exuding the aura of a Dark Gold Hunter. He rushed at the masked figure.

Though pale, Soss immediately responded. He summoned all his strength, his legs crushing the cobblestones as he sprinted towards the palace.

Slash! Slash! Slash!

With three swift strokes, Ghost-Man's scythe cut through the coachman, who was in reality a royal guardian. Even the carriage behind him, with its metal framework, shattered into pieces.

"Pity, I should have waited a bit longer..."

Ghost-Man remained still, watching Soss's retreat. He shook his head, choosing not to pursue. The palace held a substantial security force.

A gust of wind blew through, and the black-robed figure vanished instantly.

At ten in the morning, in Florence's Seventh District, at a nursing home.

Cassius was in his initial room, alone. Siren Claire, tasked with his protection, was in the adjacent room to avoid any awkwardness. Claire also preferred solitude.

If an assassin came within twenty meters of Cassius, Claire's mental arcane energy should theoretically allow her to detect it.

Yet, the scene unfolding was clearly contrary to Claire's bold claims. A dark figure stood in the corner shadow of the room, scythe in hand, slowly stepping forward.

The aura emanating from him was chilling and unmistakably that of a top-tier assassin.

However, the young man lying in bed showed no panic. He opened his half-closed eyes, his gaze deep and calm.

"You're here?" he asked calmly.

"Yes." The figure nodded.