Timeless Assassin - Chapter 217

Chapter 217: Final Offering
(Muiyan Faye’s POV)

Faye watched Leo win the Circuits from the upper faculty stands, from a vantage point that offered not only a flawless view of the battlefield, but also placed her within immediate reach of Leo should something go wrong.

From where she stood, she could still see the dust curling from his final step, the tension in his stance, and the faint tremble in the referee’s fingers as he reached for Leo’s arm, as she smiled ear to ear watching him win.

‘I can’t believe you really did it…’ she thought, arms folded tightly across her chest as she tried to steady the storm of emotions rising within her.

She felt pride— immense, immeasurable pride— for what Leo had just accomplished.

He had defied logic, crushed expectation, and shut-up all naysayers with his performance today.

As in only a single day, he had defeated four Grandmasters consecutively and carved his legend into the halls of the Sky-God Arena.

But even as her chest swelled with admiration, a heavier feeling pressed down on her ribs.

As deep down she knew that something wasn’t right.

A tightening in her gut. A prickling at the back of her neck. An instinctive dread that refused to be reasoned with.

She had known for weeks now that the Cult was planning something at the Circuits— something catastrophic. She’d been warned by the Elder, entrusted with Leo’s protection the moment things went south.

And yet, when the explosion finally happened— when the floor of the arena tore open and swallowed Leo whole into a pit of fire and ruin— she was still a step too slow.

“LEO—!” she screamed, the name tearing out of her throat as she hurled herself forward without a second thought, heart racing and panic flooding her system like venom.

Yet she was too late.

As by the time her boots touched down near the crater’s edge, an unknown golden barrier had already sealed the area below— seperating her from the boy she was entrusted to protect.

*BOOM*

She slammed into the barrier mid-stride, palms flattening against the shimmering wall of mana that pulsed with high-tier enchantments that were impossible for her to breakdown at her level.

“NO—” she hissed, eyes wide, heart pounding, as she instantly flared her mana and drew her blade, carving into the barrier with a precision strike—only to watch the barrier absorb the energy without so much as a flicker.

Yet, she struck again.

And again.

And again.

Each swing more frantic than the last, as her panic grew louder in her chest.

‘I must get to him…. I must protect him–’ She thought, as she pressed her face closer to the glowing seal— desperate to try and peer through the layers of dust and light that separated her from the pit below, and what she saw made her stomach roll, as helplessness filled her body.

‘Three… I can sense three unknown signatures down there with him,’ she realized, her senses extending past the veil like trembling fingers into a storm.

Cult operatives.

She didn’t even need confirmation.

As she could feel their murderous intent directed towards the three helpless individuals sprawled in the pit floor below.

‘By Soron, they’re going to kill him—’

‘No… worse….. they’re gonna murder him live—’ Faye thought, as her heart beat wildly, when she saw a Cult operative pick up a dented camera, meant to stream the circuit matches live.

And for a terrifying moment— her breath caught— because a thought far darker than panic clawed its way up her spine:

‘Will the next Dragon be devoured by its own Cult?’

She looked left and Major Hen had landed beside her, furiously channeling strikes into the same barrier.

Two Geneva professors joined seconds later, followed by a dozen more fighters who all converged on the barrier now, however, despite their combined efforts, nothing seemed to work.

The barrier was too strong, it was made from ancient enchantments that gave it power akin to a Demi-God level spell, and none of them had the strength to break it.

“Come on— COME ON—” Faye growled, slamming her forehead to the barrier, her hairline bloodied now from the strain, as her voice broke under the weight of helplessness.

‘I was supposed to protect him…’ she thought, as she kept watching the scene unfold below her with growing helplessness.

*SPLAT—*

The poor referee was the first to be murdered live, as he was decapitated without mercy, without even having a chance to fight back or say a few last words.

‘No— stay off him! Stay off our dragon!’ Faye thought, as she saw one of them turn towards Leo next, however, thankfully, Darnell stood up and attacked them at that moment, distracting them from Leo momentarily.

—————-

Unlike Leo, Darnell wasn’t as injured or tired from the Circuits, and hence once he regained his footing, he charged forward without hesitation— his mana surging as he sprinted straight at the closest Cult operative with fury burning in his eyes.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM—!” he shouted, throwing himself into the clash with reckless abandon, his body still trembling from the earlier battle, but his will undeterred.

However, his opponent didn’t even shift.

The man he was charging at— a masked warrior cloaked in black— wasn’t a Grandmaster like the ones Darnell had trained to fight all his life, but rather a Transcendent level warrior, who was in an entirely different league of his own.

And unfortunately, Darnell realized that the moment their bodies collided, as—

*CRACK!*

The Cultist caught his punch mid-air and twisted his arm with such absolute precision, that his right arm snapped at the elbow joint like it was made of paper.

“ARGHHHHH—”

Darnell screamed, as his knees buckled— but he didn’t fall.

Instead, he clenched his teeth and lunged with his left, mana pouring through the only working limb he had—

Only for the same result to be repeated.

*CRACK—!*

His left arm followed the same fate as his right, being snapped-off clean but in the opposite direction, as he gasped in pain, but no scream came this time.

“Ai…..”

Only a faint sound escaped his lips as the Cultist’s elbow drove directly into his ribcage with a dull thud that sent shockwaves through his spine.

And that was it.

His body gave out, his limbs dangled uselessly, as the Cultist casually slung him over his shoulder like he were but a broken puppet.

Then—

*BOOOOOOOM—!*

The golden barrier suddenly trembled under the weight of a colossal strike.

As Dupravel Nuna finally arrived.

His body landed like a meteor atop the golden barrier, the sheer pressure of his descent shattering the surrounding platforms.

The moment his feet touched down, he raised both arms and unleashed a roaring domain strike, his voice trembling with wrath.

“LEAVE MY SON ALONE, YOU FILTHY EVIL CULT BASTARDS—!”

And immediately the sky cracked and the barrier dented.

The golden dome shuddered beneath his power, glowing with fault lines of mana that webbed outward like breaking glass—but unfortunately for him, the barrier still did not shatter.

“He’s breaking through—!”

“We don’t have time—go, now—!”

The Cultists shouted, their voices sharp with urgency as Dupravel’s power cracked down from above like divine thunder.

Without hesitation, one of them opened a teleportation portal mid-air, the space around it warping violently— before stepping through with Darnell slung over his shoulder.

“The Cult will forever remember your sacrifice, brother Jishan,” the second operative said solemnly, giving a brief nod to the cameraman before stepping into the portal himself.

And then—only one remained.

The man they called Jishan.

The cameraman.

He let the portal close with a flick of his wrist, sealing off their escape, as silence returned to the pit.

For a moment, he simply stood there— still, composed— before slowly turning toward Leo, the camera still clutched in one hand while the other drifted to the hilt of the dagger at his waist.

His steps were unhurried, almost casual, but there was a finality to the way he moved— like a man walking toward the end of a song, or the end of a life— his presence devoid of flair, yet heavy enough to make the air itself feel thicker.

And when his eyes finally locked onto Leo’s— hidden though they were behind that blank black mask— Leo felt the killing intent hit him like a crashing wave.

Cold.

Deliberate.

Absolute.

The man wasn’t here to buy time.

He was here to finish what the others couldn’t.

And he had chosen Leo as his final offering.