Hitman with a Badass System
chapter-1331

Michael's mind flashed with vivid images of tearing the three elders apart, his rage barely contained beneath his stoic exterior. The urge to unleash his godly powers and obliterate them on the spot was almost overwhelming. However, a deeper emotion stayed his hand.

The memory of Eve, his best friend, and the guilt he carried over her death weighed heavily on him. He couldn't bear the thought of failing to protect Jasmine as well. Eve would have wanted him to save her little sister, and Michael was determined not to repeat past mistakes. This internal conflict kept him rooted in place, despite his desire for immediate retribution.

As he stood there, outwardly calm but inwardly seething, Michael realized the true nature of the battle ahead. While he was a god of immense power and cunning, these elders had spent over four millennia meticulously plotting against him. Every second of their long lives had been dedicated to finding ways to counter the Dark Lord.

This wasn't going to be a straightforward confrontation of raw power. Instead, it would be a chess match of the highest order - a battle of wits, strategy, and foresight between two formidable forces. The elders' age and experience had given them time to weave an intricate web of plans and contingencies, matching Michael's godly power with their own brand of cunning.

"Follow me if you please," Devdan gestured for Michael and his group to follow, leading them towards one of the colossal floating palaces. As they approached, the structure's true enormity became apparent, dwarfing even Michael's expectations.

They passed through ornate gates that seemed to part on their own, revealing a grand interior that left even Lenora, usually quick with a quip, momentarily speechless. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight. "Holy... This place makes our fortress look like a mud hut," she whispered with a mix of awe and unease.

Lining the vast corridors were rows of Skyhall angels, their metal armor gleaming in the ethereal light. Their wings, a blend of metallic plates and feathers, rustled softly as the group passed. Though their faces were hidden behind helmets, Michael could sense their conflicting emotions - fear and anger radiating off them in waves.

"Don't trust them, my lord. They're masters of deception." Elidyr leaned in close to Michael ash his eyes darted nervously around the hall, memories of past betrayals clearly haunting him.

Finally, they entered a spacious hall that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. Erael, the white-haired woman, waved her hand gracefully. In response, several ornate thrones materialized - a set for the elders and another for Michael and his companions.

"Please, be seated," Erael said, her tone cordial but lacking warmth. "We have much to discuss."

As they settled into the thrones, the air grew thick with tension. Michael's gaze swept across the elders' faces, searching for any hint of their true intentions. Devdan leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes locked on Michael. "Now then, Dark Lord," he began, his voice echoing in the vast chamber, "shall we begin?"

"This might be cliché, but let me tell you anyway: tell me where Jasmine is, and I'll make your deaths as painless as possible." Michael said, leaning back in his throne. "You think you can threaten us, boy? We've been playing this game since before you were born!" Thorfinn snickered, his arrogance palpable. But before the dwarf could close his mouth, a bolt of dark lightning materialized out of thin air, striking him square in the chest. The impact sent Thorfinn flying across the hall, his body crashing into a far wall with a sickening thud. As a result, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Everyone tensed, the air crackling with palpable tension. Devdan and Erael froze, their eyes widening in shock and fear.

Despite their celestial stage power, the Dark Lord's simple spell had effortlessly overpowered Thorfinn. The display of raw power was a stark reminder of the gap between their abilities and Michael's godhood.

Devdan and Erael exchanged a quick, worried glance. They realized, with growing dread, that the darkness enveloping the mortal realm due to Noah, the God of Light's death, had increased the God of Darkness's power far beyond their calculations. The situation was rapidly spiraling out of their control.

Erael's hand tightened on her throne's armrest, her knuckles turning white. Devdan's composure cracked slightly, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. They had underestimated Michael's power, and now they were facing the consequences of their miscalculation.

"Now, shall we try this conversation again?" Michael's voice cut through the silence, cold and threatening.

"You... bastard," Thorfinn grumbled, clutching the gaping hole in his chest. Blood seeped through his fingers as he struggled to his feet. "F-fucking god... think you're so tough," he spat, his voice now a mere whisper, laced with fear rather than conviction.

Meanwhile, Devdan cleared his throat, desperately trying to regain control of the situation. "Dark Lord, this should be a negotiation, not a display of power. Unless, of course, you don't wish to see Jasmine alive."

Leaning forward, Michael fixed Devdan with an icy stare. "Then you'd best make the dwarf shut up. If you think Jasmine's life gives you free rein to toy with me, all bets are off. I'll paint this place with your blood."

Beneath his calm exterior, Michael's mind raced. He knew they couldn't risk killing Jasmine; they needed her alive to save themselves from his wrath. Yet, he had to tread carefully. Pushing them too hard might drive them to desperate, suicidal actions. Both sides were walking a razor's edge.

"Let's be clear, you need Jasmine alive as much as I do. So let's cut the posturing and get to the point." Michael calmly said.

Erael's eyes narrowed, recognizing the truth in Michael's words. She raised a hand to silence Thorfinn, who had opened his mouth to retort. "You're right," she admitted grudgingly. "We all have much to lose here. Perhaps it's time we laid our cards on the table,"

"Good," Michael said, his voice low and firm.

Erael leaned forward, her eyes locked on Michael. "Jasmine is but one of many contingencies we have against you. Each will have devastating effects on both you and the mortal realm. Pay close attention."

"You bastards!" Elidyr growled, his fists clenched. "You claim to fight evil, yet you're its very embodiment. Holding an innocent hostage, using a clone in her place. You're no better than the darkness you claim to oppose!"

Thorfinn, having chugged several healing potions, limped to his throne. He climbed up, muttering curses under his breath, his earlier bravado significantly diminished. On the other hand, Devdan turned his calm gaze to Elidyr, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "The darkness engulfing the mortal realm is a clear sign that the prophecy has succeeded, thanks to your Dark Lord. And it's only going to get worse from here."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "This eternal darkness... it's already wreaking havoc. Mortals are acting strange, more violent. Crime, which always thrives in darkness, is flourishing like never before. Even good people are committing murders, their moral compasses skewed by the absence of light."

Devdan's voice took on a chilling tone as he elaborated. "Diseases are spreading unchecked, immune systems weakened by the lack of sunlight. Crops are failing, leading to widespread famine. Mental illness is on the rise as the constant darkness affects people's minds. Suicides are increasing as hope dwindles."

He leaned back, a cruel satisfaction in his eyes. "And this is just the beginning. The longer the darkness persists, the worse it will get. Society will crumble, descending into chaos and anarchy. Is this the world you envisioned, Dark Lord?"

"You're right," Michael admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The words Devdan spoke rang true, echoing the reports Nithroel had given him. The eternal darkness had indeed boosted his power, but at a terrible cost to the mortal realm.

Yet, a flicker of anger ignited in his eyes as he remembered the root cause of this catastrophe. He leaned forward, his gaze piercing through Devdan.

"Save your guilt trip, elf," Michael growled, his voice dripping with contempt. "This hellscape wouldn't exist if you and your precious Skyhall hadn't played puppeteer with Noah. You twisted his sense of justice, manipulated him into fighting me. Your hands are just as bloody as mine."

He let the accusation hang in the air, watching as discomfort rippled across the elders' faces. After a moment of tense silence, Michael's eyes turned cold, calculative.

"Cut the crap," he snarled. "You didn't drag us here for a lecture on the effects of eternal darkness. What's your endgame? What do you hope to gain from this little negotiation?"

Hearing Michael's no nonsense tone, Erael took a deep breath, her composure wavering slightly.

"In exchange for not using our contingencies and releasing Jasmine's soul, we propose a deal. We want half of the mortal realm and your word that you won't seek revenge against Skyhall." said Erael.

"A blank slate," Devdan interjected, his eyes gleaming with hope.

But the moment Elidyr heard them, he was beyond pissed. His unlocked memories cast a full picture of what the Skyhall did and he would rather die than letting these bastards who killed his parents, the love of his life and used his creation to slaughter thousands of innocent people. It was getting really difficult for him to stay still instead of ripping them apart.

"You can't be serious! After everything you've done, you expect to just wipe the slate clean because of some claimed contingencies?" Elidyr's face contorted with disbelief and rage.

"Before we discuss this further, I want to see Jasmine's soul up close." Michael raised a hand, silencing Elidyr. "Ha! So you can snatch it and damn the consequences? Not a chance, dark one!" Thorfinn's eyes narrowed with suspicion. On the other hand, Erael's brow furrowed, caught between suspicion and the need to show good faith. After a moment of internal debate, she spoke. "We can't bring the true soul here, but I'll show it through a portal spell. Elidyr can verify its authenticity."

A ghost of a smile played on Michael's lips. This was exactly what he needed. With just a glimpse, he could use the system to analyze Eve's soul signature and confirm if this was truly her sister. Once verified, he could use his badass points to locate the soul and turn the tables on these elders.

"Proceed," Michael commanded, his voice betraying nothing of his inner thoughts.

With a nod toward Michael, Erael raised her hands, intricate patterns of light dancing between her fingers. The air shimmered, and a small portal materialized, no larger than a dinner plate. Within its swirling depths, a faint, ethereal form took shape.