Hitman with a Badass System

As Wulfric slowly approached Elidyr, the tension in the air was palpable. Michael stepped aside, giving space for the profound moment between the brothers. Wulfric inhaled deeply, then extended his hand to rest it on Elidyr's forehead. At the touch, Elidyr tensed momentarily before forcing himself to relax. A warmth spread from Wulfric's hand, quickly morphing into a sharp sting that ravaged Elidyr's senses like a swarm inside his head.

"Argh," Elidyr groaned, pain contorting his features as sweat beaded on his brow.

The onlookers, including Michael, watched as Elidyr struggled, his body buckling until he dropped to his knees. His mind was a whirlwind of reawakening memories, cascading through him with unstoppable force. Childhood images, the horrifying sight of his parents' charred remains, and the catastrophic destruction unleashed by the Celestial Cannon flashed before him. Tears streamed down his face as he recalled the heroic sacrifice of Edwina Wraith, who had thrown herself in front of the cannon's deadly beam to save him.

But this flood of memories wasn't purely tormenting. It also rekindled his deep-rooted mastery over runes, instantly elevating his skills. The buried knowledge of rune craft that had shaped him into the architect of the ritual imprisoning the Dark Lord, and the creator of the Celestial Cannon resurfaced powerfully, transforming him into a Six-Star Runemaster.

Every bit of suppressed knowledge about runes was now unleashed, radically enhancing Elidyr's capabilities and restoring him to his full potential. Others might not have caught on, but Michael did. He sensed the surge in energy radiating from Elidyr. It reminded him of the time he enhanced Raylene into a five-star cook. However, the moment wasn't one of celebration for Michael; these were the memories that had once driven Elidyr to the brink of suicide. Understanding the potential turmoil they could bring once more, he knew that only time would reveal the impact of these newly resurfaced memories on Elidyr.

As Wulfric stepped back, giving Elidyr the space he needed, the room fell into a tense silence. Elidyr's body visibly shivered under the weight of the unlocked memories, each one surfacing with an intensity that seemed to rock him physically and emotionally. Michael stood close by, his presence both a warning and a safeguard, ready to intervene if Elidyr showed any sign of collapsing under his burden or worse, attempting to end his suffering permanently.

Michael watched closely, his experience telling him that while these memories were undoubtedly a heavy curse, Elidyr might now have the strength to withstand them. The years he had spent in the Dark Army and the resilience he had built since being rescued suggested that Elidyr could now confront his past without succumbing to despair. Michael remained alert but hopeful, believing in Elidyr's newfound fortitude to face whatever demons his past had unleashed.

Finally, Elidyr slowly rose to his feet as his movements were shaky and uncertain. The others watched him with a mix of concern and curiosity, unsure of what the resurgence of his memories might provoke. He began to mumble and sorted through the onslaught of recollections that bombarded him.

"I remember...the flames..." Elidyr murmured, his voice gaining a haunted edge.

"My parents, begging me to listen, their faces twisted in agony as they tried to pull me back from the path I was so determined to follow." His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening with the strain of his grip.

"The workshop...I can see it all now, the runes I etched, believing I was saving the world..." His voice broke as he continued.

"And Edwina...her bravery, her sacrifice. She stood before the Celestial Cannon's beam for me. She saved me, and I...I couldn't save her." Tears streamed down his face, unheeded in the moment of his torment. "I cursed them, my own parents, called them traitors for worshipping the Dark Lord. They died because of me, because of my arrogance, my blindness," His words became a torrent, each memory unleashing more pain and regret. "Skyhall used me, twisted my work for their war, for their cleansings. They killed in my name, and I...I was part of it."

Michael calmly placed his hand on Elidyr's shoulder, offering a silent reassurance that he was there for him. This small gesture made a significant difference to Elidyr, helping him feel less isolated than he had two thousand years ago. Unlike back then, the Dark Lord was now by his side, and together, they could dismantle the Skyhall brick by brick.

"You've heard everything… So back off. Don't die protecting the Skyhall," Michael said, his hand still on Elidyr's shoulder, as he turned his gaze toward the graduates and professors.

His words served as a chilling promise of retaliation if they chose to stand in his way, rather than a simple request. The graduates and professors, now aware of the Skyhall's cruelty as revealed by the headmaster, lowered their weapons. However, Wulfric could not stand down, bound by an order from Qin Jiu to stop the Dark Lord.

With a heavy sigh, Wulfric took a step forward. "I cannot let you pass, Ghost. I regret having to stand in your way, but I have no choice," Wulfric said, his voice laden with resignation.

"And why is that, headmaster? Why do you continue to align with the Skyhall even after they've killed your parents, inflicted so much pain upon your brother, and slaughtered countless innocents? Enlighten me before I stop seeing you as the headmaster and start seeing you as just another minion of the Skyhall," Michael's voice bordered on threatening, clearly showing his frustration and impatience.

Although he respected Wulfric, Michael's patience had its limits. No matter the reasons, if Wulfric stood in his way, then the old man would experience what it was like to face the Dark Lord's wrath.

The professors and graduates tensed at Michael's threat. Their eyes shifted between the Dark Lord and Wulfric, torn in their loyalties. On one hand, they recognized that the Skyhall deserved punishment, but on the other, they couldn't simply stand aside if the Headmaster attempted to thwart the Dark Lord. Their loyalty to Wulfric compelled them to stand with him, even if it meant opposing Michael.

"Wulfric…why?" Elidyr asked, his voice a mix of confusion and disappointment.

"Wulfric, what are you doing?" Professor Kayla stepped forward, her eyes pleading with Wulfric to reconsider his stance.

Meanwhile, Michael's mind was racing. If Wulfric still aligned himself with the Skyhall and was willing to fight a losing battle despite everything the Skyhall had done to his family, it was clear that someone was either manipulating or emotionally controlling him. Michael also knew that Wulfric had been absent from the mortal realm when his parents were killed and during Elidyr's torment. This suggested that Wulfric's refusal to back down might be connected to his whereabouts during his parents' deaths and what he was doing there.

"Let me guess… you're doing this to protect someone… someone you were with while Elidyr was going through all that shit the Skyhall put him through," Michael said calmly. He was guessing, wanting to gauge Wulfric's reaction. To be honest, Michael wasn't certain Wulfric was protecting someone, but when he noticed the subtle change in Wulfric's expression, he was surprised to see his guess was accurate.

"So you are protecting someone…" Michael murmured to himself.

"Who are you protecting, Headmaster? Who are you prioritizing above your life and the retribution for your parents' death?" Michael asked coldly.

But before Wulfric could answer, Michael felt a slight vibration within his ear as he accepted the communication from Nithroel.

"What is taking you so long? Don't drag this out. Every second you waste, the Skyhall gets more prepared to face us. We need that portal gateway now," Nithroel urged Michael sharply.

Hearing Nithroel's voice, which showed her patience was wearing thin, Elidyr knew the Dark Lord would forcefully remove anyone in his path.

"Step aside, Wulfric. You don't want this fight," Elidyr tried to convince his brother to stand down, despite still reeling from his own resurfaced memories.

"Last chance, Headmaster. I'm not known for my patience. Stand down, or I will make you," Michael said as he stepped back, prompting the graduates and the professors—except for Kayla and Lane—to step back as well.

"Ghost… don't do this," Professor Kayla said, turning her pleading gaze toward Michael. She knew that not even their combined might could stop the Dark Lord.

"I won't kill him," Michael reassured Elidyr with a nod.

"But I can't promise it won't hurt," he added, shifting his gaze to Wulfric. At that moment, Lane realized a confrontation was inevitable.

Black lightning bolts began crackling around Michael's wrists, and the room started to darken. Seeing the battle-ready Dark Lord, Wulfric took a deep breath in preparation to defend himself.

"We are with you, Headmaster," Elliot declared, stepping forward as the others followed suit. Their loyalty to their headmaster far outweighed their fear of the Dark Lord.

"This is going to hurt," Lane muttered under his breath, resigning himself as he too stepped toward Wulfric. At that moment, all the graduates and professors positioned themselves behind Wulfric to face the Dark Lord.

Wasting no time, Deacon Saunders dashed at Michael with his hammer raised high. The hammer glowed ominously, runes etched into its surface, illuminating it with an arcane light. Michael snickered at the approaching figure, his expression one of mild amusement rather than concern. With a simple, dismissive gesture of his hand, he unleashed a powerful gust of wind. The force caught Deacon squarely, sending him hurtling through the air like a rag doll. He crashed against the wall with a resounding crack, the impact leaving spiderweb fractures across the stone.

"Come on then, step up. But you might want to keep those healing potions handy. You're going to need them," Michael taunted the remaining onlookers.

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