Hitman With A Badass System

Chapter 1371  An Army of Dark Lords

Meanwhile, back in the ritual chamber, Rin stood, her chest heaving, her blood-red armor now streaked with sweat and… something that looked suspiciously like fear. The fight, though short, had taken a toll on her. She'd been facing a replica of the God of Darkness, a perfect copy imbued with a fraction of his power, and even that had been enough to push her to her limits.

But Andohr, lounging on his bone-carved throne, didn't look impressed. In fact, he looked… bored. Disappointed. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

He took a sip of his wine, his lips curling into a sneer.

"That's it?" he chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's the best you can do? You couldn't even finish off a clone of the God of Darkness easily?"

He shook his head, his gaze cold, calculating.

"Tell me, Rin… how do you plan to survive an encounter with the real God of Darkness, if you can't even handle a pale imitation? Are you planning to use hostages again? Because that little trick, my dear, won't work for long."

What Rin had been fighting… wasn't Michael. Not really. It was a clone, a magically constructed replica, imbued with a fraction of the God of Darkness's power. Those bodies piled in the chasm outside… they were failures. Discarded attempts to recreate the real thing.

Rin and Andohr had been experimenting, using the blood, hair, armor fragments, and any other artifact that held a trace of the previous Dark Lord's essence, to create a perfect copy of the God of Darkness, something Andohr could use as his weapon. But with such limited resources, replicating the peak of his power had been impossible. Still, they'd managed to achieve… acceptable results. Pale imitations, sure, but strong enough to provide a decent challenge. And with each successful clone, the fight had become harder, more intense, pushing Rin to her limits.

However, Andohr wasn't satisfied. He wanted more. He envisioned an army of Dark Lords, an unstoppable force of darkness under his command, ready to unleash hell upon his enemies. He wanted to push the boundaries of what was possible, to create a perfect replica, a mirror image of the God of Darkness, a weapon that would finally secure his victory against the pantheon.

As Rin listened to Andohr's condescending remarks, her gaze fixed on the smug look plastered across his face, she felt a surge of white-hot fury. She'd give anything, anything, to flay him alive, to hear him scream, to watch the light fade from his arrogant eyes.

But she clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, and forced herself to remain silent. She might be the Princess of Murder, but even she knew better than to openly defy the God of Time and Space.

"If you're so powerful, Andohr," she snarled with a venomous sarcasm, "why don't you go after the God of Darkness? Why hide behind these… replicas? Why not face him yourself, instead of cowering like a rat in the shadows?"

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Andohr simply smiled, a cold, predatory grin that sent shivers down her spine. He flicked his wrist, and a series of tiny portals, swirling with temporal energy, appeared around Rin. Her body twitched, jerked, as an invisible force began to pull her in multiple directions at once.

She screamed, a mixture of pain and laughter, her body stretching, distorting, the seams of her armor groaning in protest. Blood, a crimson mist, began to seep from the wounds that opened in her flesh as her body was pulled further and further apart.

Andohr stopped just short of ripping her apart completely. He rose from his throne, his movements languid, almost bored, and descended the steps, his wine goblet still clutched in his hand. He took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving Rin's contorted form.

"Do not," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "question my methods, Rin. Do not raise your voice to me. Do not… disrespect me. I have very little patience for… creatures like you."

He paused, letting the weight of his words, the implied threat, hang in the air.

"Xyloth can put you back together, yes. But the pain, Rin… the pain you will experience… that will stay with you. Through every reincarnation. Every lifetime. You'll never forget it."

The tiny portals surrounding Rin pulsed and throbbed, miniature vortexes of swirling gray energy that tugged at her flesh, stretching her limbs, distorting her body. Andohr circled her, his wine goblet swirling, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

"You think… these clones… are meant to fight the original?" He laughed, a low, menacing sound that echoed through the chamber. "You truly are… stupider than you look, aren't you?"

His smile vanished, replaced by a look of cold fury.

"I hate to… hype up that fucker," he snarled as his gaze burned into Rin's. "But pathetic little worms like you… you don't even comprehend who you're dealing with. You know the saying, 'tell me who your enemy is, and I'll tell you who you are'?"

He paused, letting the question hang in the air.

"The God of Darkness… he's a lion, Rin. A fucking lion. A young lion, perhaps. Still finding his paws. But a lion nonetheless. You think your little… games… are a threat to him?"

He chuckled, shaking his head in disgust.

"There's a story," he continued. "About a hyena who saw a lion sleeping in the sun. A young lion, lazy, seemingly harmless. And the hyena, arrogant fool that it was, thought… 'I can take him.' It spent days plotting, scheming, gathering its pack, convinced it could bring down the king. What the hyena didn't realize… was that the lion… he was just… amused. He'd seen it all before. A thousand times. He let the hyena play its little games, knowing that with a single swipe of his paw… he could end it all. And when the hyena finally lunged… well, let's just say it wasn't the lion who ended up as dinner."

It was clear to Rin that Andohr was comparing her to the hyena in his little story. The foolish, arrogant creature who dared to challenge a lion… only to become its dinner. And she did not appreciate the analogy.

She was Rin, the Princess of Murder, the daughter of Xyloth. She was at the top of the goddamn food chain. Andohr's story, his condescending tone, his implication that she was nothing more than a… a scavenger, fueled her rage.

"And who are you in this pathetic story, Andohr?" she snarled with a venomous fury that even the pain of her distended body couldn't completely mask. "The… wise old storyteller?"

Andohr chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a cold amusement.

"The lion," he growled as he continued, "was indeed the king of his forest. He had no rivals, no enemies who dared to challenge his rule. He was… arrogant. Complacent. He'd forgotten… that there are always… bigger predators."

He paused, letting the silence hang in the air, his gaze fixed on Rin's contorted form.

"He didn't realize… that a dragon was watching him. A dragon who ruled not just the forest… but the skies, the mountains, the seas… Wherever the dragon went, it ruled. And this lion… this arrogant, foolish lion… he had no idea that he was being… observed. That one day… the dragon would swoop down from the heavens… and devour him whole."

Andohr chuckled, taking another sip of his wine.

"These clones, Rin," he said, gesturing towards the mountain of bodies piled in the chasm outside, "they're not meant to fight the God of Darkness. Not directly. He's a god, and even a hundred, a thousand of these replicas… well, he'd wipe them out in minutes. He already proved that by killing seven Ancestors at once. "

He paused, his gaze hardening.

"I'm building an army, Rin. An army to fight the… real enemy. The old Pantheon."

He let out a harsh laugh.

"Even gods, my dear, use armies. Why do you think we let those pathetic mortals fight our wars for us? It's not because we're… afraid. It's because… it's messy. Inefficient. And frankly… it's bad for our image. A god, covered in blood, losing their temper… it doesn't inspire faith, does it? No, it's much better to let the… lesser beings do the dirty work. Keep our hands clean. Maintain the illusion of… divine detachment."

He grinned, a cruel, predatory smile.

"But my army, Rin… my army will be… different. Infinite. Unstoppable. And I won't have to worry about… image… or… faith. Because these clones… they're not… sentient. They're… tools. Weapons."

"Infinite?" Rin scoffed, her voice strained from the pain. "You're kidding, right? Each of these… replicas… they require blood. A lot of fucking blood. Flesh, bone… it's not exactly a sustainable business model, Andohr."

Andohr chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a predatory amusement.

"That's why you're here, Rin. To… perfect the process. Make it more… efficient. Imagine, my dear… an endless army of Dark Lords. All under my command. Don't you think… your father would be pleased? "

He knew how to push her buttons. Rin lived and breathed for Xyloth's approval. She craved his attention, his praise, his… love. And Andohr, master manipulator that he was, had exploited that weakness perfectly.

He'd struck a deal with Xyloth. A mutually beneficial arrangement. Andohr would get his army, and Xyloth… well, Xyloth would get to… play. To unleash his own brand of chaos and destruction upon the world, using Andohr's creations as his instruments of death.

And Rin? Rin was just a pawn in their game. A tool to be used, discarded when she was no longer… useful.

The thought of pleasing her father, of earning his approval, made Rin's pain recede, replaced by a surge of manic energy. She laughed, a high-pitched, almost hysterical sound, that echoed through the chamber.

Even stretched, broken, on the verge of being torn apart, she couldn't resist the lure of her father's… attention.

"But there's… another piece to the puzzle," Andohr continued, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "I've dispatched one of my… agents… to search for something… special. Something that will… create a void zone. Specifically for the real God of Darkness."

He paused, his gaze meeting Rin's, his smile turning predatory.

"Do you… understand what that means, Rin?"

Rin frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to process the information. A void zone… she'd heard whispers, rumors of such places, but she'd never encountered one herself. They were… legendary. Places where the laws of reality were… bent. Broken. Where even gods could be… weakened.

"No," she admitted, her voice a low growl. "Enlighten me."

Andohr chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a cold fire.

"It means… he'll be cut off, Rin. No connection to the celestial energy that fuels his powers. No access to his… godhood. Just… a mortal. Trapped. Helpless."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"And when I have him… in my grasp… I can unleash my little… replicas. Rip him to shreds. And then… I can claim his soul. And that, my dear Rin… is where the real fun begins."

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