Hitman With A Badass System

1321 Elidyr vs Wulfric I

As Elidyr's gaze fixed on Wulfric, a wave of conflicting emotions surged through him. He had long suspected that some of his memories from his time as a prisoner at Skyhall were obscured, likely sealed away by Wulfric's magic, but the reasons remained shrouded in mystery. Now, confronted with the man he suspected of altering his past, Elidyr's desire for truth overcame his caution.

Stepping forward, his expression tight with resolve, Elidyr opened his mouth to demand answers. However, before he could voice his questions, Wulfric raised a hand, his movements deliberate and calm. With a simple gesture, ethereal chains materialized, swiftly encircling Lenora and forming a cage around her. The intricate runes along the chains glowed with a soft, yet impenetrable light, securing the elder vampire just as she began to stir, her eyelids fluttering slightly.

The sudden containment of Lenora caught everyone off guard, halting their actions as they turned to observe Wulfric's display of power. Relief washed over the faces of the graduates and professors as Wulfric took control of the situation, effectively neutralizing the immediate threat posed by Lenora's impending awakening.

"Always the dramatic entrance, Headmaster. Makes you wonder what he'd do without a captive audience." Lane, unable to resist the moment, quipped with a smirk.

On the other hand, Wulfric merely sighed at the comment with weariness and resolve. He then turned his wise, patient gaze towards Elidyr and the dark army soldiers, his voice carrying a calm authority that resonated in the charged atmosphere of the training hall.

"Elidyr, you and I have a long history, one that I hope still holds some sway in your decisions today," Wulfric began, his words measured. "I understand the path you've chosen, but I implore you to reconsider the violence. There's no need for further bloodshed. We can resolve this matter peacefully. Retreat now, and no more lives need to be endangered."

His plea hung in the air, a clear invitation for dialogue over destruction, as he awaited Elidyr's response. But Elidyr's response was nothing but a laugh that echoed through the hall.

"Talks? The time for talks is long gone, Wulfric. And trust me, our Dark Lord isn't exactly in a chatty mood these days," he shook his head dismissively at Wulfric's appeal for peace.

"You're just delaying the inevitable. When the Dark Lord gets here, he's gonna kick your asses so hard you won't know what hit you. He's a god now... a seriously pissed off god," Elidyr added, his words sharp and filled with a grim certainty.

Around him, the graduates and professors exchanged uneasy glances, fully aware of the power that the Dark Lord, wielded. The thought that even their combined might would be like mere child's play to him hung heavily in the air, a sobering reminder of the powerful entity they were up against.

"He won't even break a sweat wiping the floor with us," Elidyr sneered, the dark implication of his words settling like a cold weight on everyone's shoulders.

Hearing Elidyr, Lane glanced around at the uneasy faces of his colleagues and students. Turning to Wulfric, he spoke with a hint of sharpness, his voice cutting through the tension. "He's right, you know. We need a plan, Wulfric. You better have something up your sleeve for dealing with our prodigal student turned Dark Lord," he said with urgency and a slight disdain.

"I am aware of the gravity of our situation, Lane. I do have a plan, but it requires precision and, most importantly, timing," Wulfric, maintaining his composure under Lane's pointed gaze, nodded solemnly.

"No amount of your plans and strategies will save you from the sheer power of the Dark Lord," Elidyr scoffed as Lane, arms folded, shot a skeptical look at Wulfric. Though he shared Elidyr's doubts, now was not the time to challenge their leader's authority—especially not in front of the enemy. But Wulfric was unfazed by the mounting skepticism and maintained his characteristic calm. "This path you're all walking will only lead to more destruction," he advised softly, his eyes locked on Elidyr's defiant stance. "It's not too late to turn back."

"Funny, coming from you," Elidyr shot back.

"I know you've locked away some of my memories. It's your handiwork, isn't it? Tell me what you didn't want me to remember, and maybe I'll consider putting in a good word for you with the Dark Lord," most uptodate nov𝑒ls are publish𝒆d on .

For a moment, no one uttered a word as silence enveloped the hall. Finally, it was Wulfric who calmly took a step forward and broke the silence with his calm voice.

"Let's settle this between us, Elidyr, like in the old days," he suggested, his voice measured and confident. The tension in the air thickened as everyone realized the gravity of his proposal. Despite Wulfric's higher cultivation stage—Half Celestial compared to Elidyr's Immortal stage—the headmaster wanted to ensure a fair fight.

With a wave of Wulfric's hand, the runes embedded in the ceiling and walls of the training hall began to glow softly. These runes, intricately carved and glowing with a faint light, were part of a sophisticated array designed to adjust the cultivation stage of any trainee within the room. It was a feature used to level the playing field for students during training sessions, and now it would serve to make this duel fair.

Elidyr's eyes widened as he recognized the purpose of the runes. He understood exactly what Wulfric was planning. The runes would temporarily suppress Wulfric's cultivation stage, bringing him down to Elidyr's level.

Though Elidyr was skeptical, the idea of settling their old score man to man appealed to him. He clenched his fists, feeling the surge of adrenaline. "Alright, Wulfric," he agreed, a smirk forming on his lips. "Let's see if you still have what it takes."

The runes glowed brighter, casting a soft, almost ethereal light throughout the hall. As the array activated, Wulfric's aura visibly diminished, leveling the playing field between the two men.

"You always did like to make things interesting," Elidyr muttered, cracking his knuckles.

"Let's see if you can keep up, Elidyr," Wulfric's eyes twinkled with a hint of nostalgia. But looking at the upcoming duel, the soldiers in the dark army exchanged weary glances. Then, the veteran from the Dark Army stepped closer to Elidyr, casting a wary glance towards Lenora as she twitched slightly within the confines of the ethereal cage Wulfric had conjured. "Is this really a good idea?" he murmured, uncertainty lacing his voice. As a response to his question, Elidyr gave him a stern look.

"Some scores can only be settled this way." His tone brooked no argument, and the unyielding look in his eyes conveyed the depth of his conviction.

Observing Elidyr's demeanor, the soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. They understood the risks involved but also recognized their resident runemaster's need to confront his past head-on. It was obvious to all present that Wulfric was stalling, though his reasons remained unclear.

"Shit, he's not gonna back down, is he?" whispered one soldier to another, his voice a low hiss that barely carried over the ambient noise of the hall.

"Nah, looks like he's got something to prove or settle," replied his comrade with his eyes locked on Elidyr and Wulfric as they prepared to face off.

"Just hope this doesn't blow up in our faces."

As Wulfric and Elidyr circled each other, the surrounding Dark Army soldiers tightened their grip on their weapons, ready to intervene at a moment's notice, yet the underlying question that nagged at them all was why Wulfric was stalling—what was he waiting for?

While the question nagged at everyone, Wulfric and Elidyr took the center stage as the others made way for them to fight. The shift in their aura was palpable, causing the runes to pulsate with energy. The arrays summoned layers of protective barriers around them to prevent their spells from harming others.

"Pardon me if I am rough around the edges, old friend… It has been some time since I fought someone," Wulfric said, a hint of nostalgia and sadness in his voice.

"Old friend, huh? Friends don't watch the other friend suffer stuck to a tree for two thousand years, Wulfric," Elidyr growled. Though he had been rescued by the Dark Lord, the time he spent cursed and bound to a tree by the Skyhall elders was fresh in his mind. Even now, Elidyr had nightmares about those two thousand years—isolated, unable to move, unable to speak. It was the ultimate torture.

"What memories did you lock away, Wulfric? And why? Why didn't you completely erase yourself from my memory?" Elidyr asked the question that had haunted him for so long.

"Some secrets and memories are better left untouched, old friend…" Wulfric replied, seeing Elidyr's patience wearing thin.

"You've never been known for your patience, old friend," Wulfric added, only to see Elidyr finally snap. Without wasting a second, Elidyr slapped the hidden medallion hanging around his neck. The moment Elidyr did, the medallion glowed, and the armor within began to seamlessly cover Elidyr from head to toe. This mechanism was similar to Michael's Dark Lord armor. How could Michael leave his runemaster exposed without battle armor?

The armor that covered Elidyr glistened in silver, each metal plate forged from various ores in the mortal realm, striking the perfect balance between durability and strength. The armor was sleek and powerful, with metallic wings attached behind, hinting at both agility and protection. Lines of energy flowed across the armor, showing the dispersal of arch energy, making it clear this was no ordinary suit.

The silver armor shimmered under the hall's dim light, reflecting a mixture of elegance and menace. Each plate was meticulously crafted, overlapping seamlessly to allow for maximum flexibility while offering superior protection. The metallic wings, folded neatly behind him, looked both functional and imposing, capable of unfurling for flight or additional defense.

Lines of vibrant arch energy coursed through the armor, lighting up runes engraved into the metal. The energy flow was visible, creating an intricate network that pulsated with power, making the armor not just a shield but a weapon in its own right.

"What are you hiding, Wulfric?" Elidyr demanded.

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