Chapter 38: The Assassinator of the Wild!

The Urban Runner tore through the winding dirt

roads of the Evergreenwoods Hill District, its dark silhouette cutting through

the mist that clung to the dense forest. The towering trees swayed in the wind,

their branches whispering ominously as the vehicle sped forward. The entire

district was bathed in an eerie twilight, with patches of sunlight barely

breaking through the thick canopy above.

Oris Vale sat in the

back seat, his eyes darting nervously to the shadowy woods outside. Beside him,

Malik Vesh kept his hand close to his belt — where his Abyssal Tech sidearm

rested. Voryn Malek sat up front, his face a picture of cold calculation as he

monitored the route ahead. The two Elite Segrito Escorts flanked their vehicle

in identical, sleek black rides, their engines purring like beasts waiting to

strike.

"We shouldn't have come this way," Oris

muttered, his voice taut with unease. "The

Evergreenwoods Hill District is cursed. Everyone knows it."

"We had no choice," Voryn snapped. "It's the fastest route to the Underground. If we

stay on the main roads, the Fallen Hero will track us down in no time."

Malik's eyes

narrowed as he peered out at the darkening trees. "I don't think it matters which road we take. If he's coming…

there's no escaping him."

The words had

barely left his mouth when the first explosion hit.

The rightmost

escort vehicle erupted in a fireball, its reinforced

frame twisting and crumpling like paper. The shockwave slammed into the Urban

Runner, sending it skidding sideways. Oris barely had time to shout when the second

escort detonated, the blast illuminating the forest in a searing flash

of orange and red.

"Ambush!" Voryn barked, slamming his fist

into the dashboard. "Everyone out! Now!"

The three council

members scrambled out of the vehicle just as the Urban Runner's engine ignited,

sending shards of metal and glass raining into the woods. Smoke and flame

filled the air, the acrid scent stinging their nostrils.

But it wasn't the

destruction that made them freeze in place.

It was what they

saw beyond the burning wreckage.

Through the haze

and fire, a figure emerged from the treeline. A tall, imposing

silhouette, cloaked in black — the long coat flowing like shadows around him.

His face was obscured by a sleek, metallic mask, and beneath it, his red

visors glowed like

molten embers.

"No…" Oris whispered, his voice

trembling. "It's him. The Assassinator of

The Wild."

The figure stepped

closer, slow and deliberate, the crunch of ash and leaves beneath his boots the

only sound. He carried a weapon unlike any they'd seen — a crystal

blade-like construct, crackling with an magnificent fusion of Viridian Cyro and a golden energy . The very air around it seemed to

distort, waves of heat and darkness rippling outward.

"You ran," the Wild Assassinator's voice

broke the silence — a low, distorted growl. "But there's nowhere left to hide."

Malik's hand shot

to his weapon, but before he could even draw, the Wild Assassinator moved.

In a blur of

motion, he closed the distance, the spear flashing through the air. Malik's sidearm was sliced

in half before he could

even pull the trigger. The next strike was faster — a

brutal kick to the chest that

sent Malik sprawling into the dirt.

"You think you know fear, Malik Vesh?"

the Wild Assassinator hissed. "You don't.

But you will."

Voryn roared,

drawing his twin Abyssal Daggers and charging. But the Fallen Hero was

faster. He parried every strike with ease, his

spear spinning in fluid, deadly arcs. With a final twist, he disarmed

Voryn, the uselessly to the ground. A heartbeat later, the butt

of the crystal blade slammed into Voryn's stomach, dropping him to his

knees.

Only Oris remained

standing. His face pale, his eyes wide with terror.

"W-What do you want?!" Oris stammered,

taking a step back. "We can make a deal!

We—"

"No deals." The Wild Assassinator's voice

was ice. "Only justice."

With a flick of

his wrist, the crystal blade launched forward, the tip stopping

inches from Oris's throat.

"The Ninefold

Dominion will fall. And you…" the Wild Assassinator tilted his head. "You'll be the message."

The air in the Evergreenwoods Hill District was

thick with the scent of blood and smoke. The aftermath of the battle left the

ground littered with broken weapons and bodies of the Segrito assassins. But

amid the silence, one figure still stirred.

A lone Segrito

guard, his uniform torn and stained with blood, dragged himself across

the ground. Every breath came out as a ragged gasp, but his trembling hands

reached for the communicator pod on his belt. He knew he didn't have

much time.

"P-Professor Z…" the guard croaked, his

voice barely above a whisper.

The line crackled,

and after a moment, the cold, authoritative voice of Professor

Z answered. "Report. What's the situation?"

The guard coughed,

struggling to get the words out. "Lord

Oris… Lord Voryn… Lord Malik… they're all dead."

A heavy

silence followed on the

other end of the line. Then, with icy calm, Professor Z asked the question they

both feared.

"Was it him?" Z's voice was tight,

controlled. "The Fallen Hero?"

The guard opened

his mouth to confirm, but the words never came.

A flash of silver — and the world spun sideways. Pain erupted in his chest,

and the guard looked down in shock to see a crystalline blade protruding from his ribs. The weapon

shimmered with an unnatural, pulsing light, radiating

power that seemed to drain the life from his body.

Before the guard

could react, a brutal kick slammed into his side, sending him

sprawling. The communicator pod flew from his grip,

landing several feet away.

A gloved hand snatched

the pod from the air. And then came the voice. Low.

Dangerous. Familiar.

"It's me, Professor." A dark, almost

amused edge colored the words. "The

Assassinator of the Wild."

There was a sharp

intake of breath from

the other end. "Why are you there?"

Professor Z's voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable thread of tension

beneath it.

The Wild

Assassinator smiled beneath his mask — though there was no warmth in it. "You'll know soon enough, Professor."

And with that, he cut

the call, his gloved fingers pressing the pod's controls with a

finality that sent a cold wave of dread through the airwaves.

But he wasn't

finished.

From the folds of

his coat, the Assassinator pulled a small, black sachet, marked

with crimson sigils that

glowed faintly against the dark. He let it fall to the ground, where it landed with

a soft thud among the bodies of the fallen.

Then, without a

sound, he vanished — his form dissolving into the shadows

as though he had never been there.

The forest fell

into stillness, broken only by the crackling of distant

flames. The sachet pulsed, the sigils growing

brighter and brighter until the forest floor shuddered beneath it.

And then it exploded.

But there was no

fire. No smoke. No shrapnel.

The air itself tore

apart, waves of dark energy rippling outward. The bodies

of the Segrito assassins disintegrated instantly, reduced to glowing

embers of light and shadow. The trees nearby withered

and collapsed, their bark splintering into ash.

And when the energy finally faded,

nothing remained of the fallen. Not a trace of blood, not a single weapon. Only

the faint hum of power, still vibrating

in the air — as if the

forest itself had absorbed the wrath of the Assassinator of the Wild.