Hitman with a Badass System

1415 The State of Mortal Realm and Zariel

Meanwhile, back in the mortal realm, Elidyr and Lailah sat in a dimly lit room within the Dark Castle, the flickering torchlight casting long, dancing shadows across the walls. Even the brightest flames seemed diminished, their light struggling to pierce the gloom that had settled over the world since Noah's death.

Harry, now fourteen, a young man on the cusp of adulthood, sat beside them, his gaze fixed on the floor, his expression troubled. Wulfric, his face etched with worry, stood near the window, his gaze fixed on the darkness that blanketed the world outside.

The eternal night had changed things. It wasn't just the absence of light. It was more than that. The darkness it seemed to seep into people's hearts, twisting their emotions, amplifying their worst impulses.

As the SKyhall elders mentioned, violence was on the rise, crime rates had skyrocketed and people were edgier and more aggressive. They would snap at the slightest provocation, resorting to fists, knives, and magic to settle even the most trivial disputes.

In addition, even the simple act of telling time had become difficult. Days blurred into nights, nights into days, with no sunrise to mark the start of a new day and no sunset to signal its end. In other words, people were losing it. For instance, farmers couldn't tell when to plant their crops and merchants couldn't tell when to open their shops. Even the animals were confused, their instincts scrambled by the endless night.

It was chaos. And it was wearing on everyone.

Elidyr broke the silence, his voice a low rumble in the dimly lit room.

"The Dark Army has established checkpoints," he said, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the castle walls. "In every major city. Every village. In every continent. They're patrolling. Maintaining order. Or trying to."

"Corey's been patrolling the seas," he continued, a slight smile touching his lips. "Keeping the pirates at bay."

The seas were particularly hit hard by the eternal darkness. The instability, the fear, and the desperation had driven many to piracy. They formed crews, raiding coastal towns, and attacking merchant ships, their greed fueled by the chaos. They were operating outside the Dark Army's control, independent, unpredictable, and increasingly aggressive.

Big Bertha, Michael's flagship, under Corey's command, was patrolling the seas, trying to contain the pirate threat. But it was like trying to bail out the ocean with a bucket.

"And Nithroel," Lailah said, her voice barely above a whisper. "She's requested our aid. In Awor."

Elidyr sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I've sent more men," he said. "But we're stretched thin. We're not fighting an organization, Lailah. We're fighting the darkness. In people's hearts."

Harry, who'd been silent until now, spoke up, his voice filled with a grim determination.

"What about Zariel?" he asked. "Has anyone seen him?"

The name Zariel hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the threat that still lurked in the shadows.

The former Reaper, once a servant of Fourcrux, now a rogue agent, was loose. He was a phantom and a monster who could possess the living, haunt the dead, and vanish without a trace. He had left a trail of bodies in his wake, each one a testament to his cruelty and power.

They all remembered, with a shudder, what he did to Cindy, how he possessed her and forced them to release him.

But Cindy, despite her youth wasn't a victim. She had grown. She was almost fourteen now, but she was different. After all, she was raised by Gaya and trained by Michael and Eve. To be precise, a mini Dark Queen, as Elidyr had once jokingly called her.

"Cindy's hunting him," Elidyr said, a hint of pride in his voice. "She's close. "

"Isn't that dangerous?" Lailah asked, her brow furrowing in concern. "She's so young. She shouldn't be doing this. We should be doing this."

Elidyr shook his head.

"Cindy she's different, Lailah. She's Raylene's daughter. But she's also theirs," he said, gesturing towards the ceiling, towards the realm of the Gods. "She grew up with them. With Gaya and him. She blames herself, you see. For freeing Zariel. For the deaths he's caused. She's hunting him. And she won't stop. Not until she's finished him. She needs to prove herself. To them. And to herself."

"Has he sent any messages?" Lailah asked, her voice hesitant, her gaze shifting towards Elidyr.

They all knew who she meant by 'he', The God of Darkness…The Dark Lord.

When Elidyr heard her, he just sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had been busy dealing with the memories that Wulfric unlocked and trying to keep the mortal realm from falling apart. He hadn't had time to even think about contacting Michael. And even if he had the time, he wouldn't have contacted them because Michael and Gaya entrusted the mortal realm with him and the others. It was their responsibility and burden.

Besides, he could only imagine what kind of shit Michael was dealing with in the realm of the Gods.

"No," he said, his voice heavy. "Nothing."

"I should help Cindy," Harry said with a firm voice. "She shouldn't be alone. Not with him out there."

Elidyr sighed. "I've tried to talk to her, Harry. Many times. I even offered to send Aria with her, for backup. But she's stubborn. Just like her godmother."

Harry chuckled, a faint, humorless sound.

"Yeah," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "She's something."

From the moment Harry saw her, he was drawn to Cindy. She was different, special. Beautiful, yes, but also courageous, a badass. She wasn't like the other girls he met because Cindy wasn't afraid of anything or anyone.

He admired her loyalty, and the way she worshipped the Dark Lord and Gaya. He had witnessed her annihilate a group of older students at Mazeroth who dared insult Michael. The professors had to intervene, restraining her furious rage. He admired that intensity in her.

Sometimes, at night, he would see her standing on the balcony of the Dark Castle, talking to the sky, as if she truly believed the Dark Lord and Gaya could hear her.

Even her mother, Raylene, teased her about it, saying she loved the Dark Lord and Gaya more than anyone else.

"She's dedicated," Harry said softly. "She's going to find him and stop him."

"You should help her, Harry," Lailah suggested gently, her gaze fixed on her son. "She's too proud, just like your father, to accept help. But she needs it, and you care about her."

Lailah saw the way Harry looked at Cindy – the admiration, affection, and longing. It was amusing, in a way, to see young love blossom even in this chaos. She felt happy for her son. And Cindy was special, a firecracker like Gaya, but with a good heart, a kind soul.

But before Harry could reply, Wulfric, who had been silent, finally spoke.

"We need to talk to Rowena," he stated calmly.

Everyone in the room froze. They all knew about Rowena, her connection to the Dark Lord and their shared history. She had been living in the Dark Castle with her father and sister since Noah's death, keeping to herself, spending most of her time meditating, barely leaving her room.

"What do you mean, Wulfric?" Elidyr asked, his voice laced with apprehension. "What does Rowena have to do with this?"

Wulfric turned to face them, his expression serious.

"Rowena's mother, Diana, possessed the blood of Arora, an Ancient God. I believe Rowena inherited this blood, this power."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over their faces.

"What we're doing is temporary, band-aid solutions. We're just prolonging the inevitable. The only way to truly fix this, to bring back the light, is to replace the darkness. And I believe Rowena is the key."

He took a deep breath.

"We need to utilize this blood, Rowena's aid, to fight the darkness."

Everyone stared at Wulfric with a mix of shock and disbelief. It seemed impossible, yet if it was true, it could change everything.

"How?" Lailah began hesitantly. "How do we do that?"

Wulfric took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on some distant point.

"There are records," he whispered. "In Mazeroth's archives. Ancient texts. They speak of rituals, spells, ways to utilize the blood of an Ancient God. It's dangerous magic, powerful and unpredictable. But I believe if we can convince Rowena to help us, we could build something, something to mimic Noah's light, a beacon, a substitute."

However, Elidyr remained skeptical.

"What records, Wulfric?" he asked, doubt in his voice. "And why do you think they're true? Skyhall was obsessed with power. They collected texts, artifacts, schemes. Most were useless, or worse, dangerous, more trouble than they were worth."

Lailah nodded in agreement.

"We can't risk Rowena's life, Wulfric," she said firmly. "She's been through enough."

Wulfric shook his head, his gaze resolute.

"Even if Skyhall is gone, she's still the Holy Maiden, Lailah," he said steadily. "She won't stand by and watch the world suffer. She has a duty, a responsibility."

"And if something happens to her," Elidyr interjected with a hint of anger in his voice, "the Dark Lord will have our heads. He'll destroy us. We can't risk it, not with her. If there are any records, we need to find another way, a safer way, without hurting her."

They were about to continue their debate, when a dark army soldier, his face pale and sweaty, burst into the room, stumbling to a halt before them.

"My lords," he gasped, his breath ragged. "A message. From Lady Cindy. She's found him. She's found Zariel."

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