Hitman with a Badass System - Chapter 1415

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." n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

He paused, his brow furrowing.

"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.

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."