Hitman with a Badass System
chapter-895

The tension in the room was palpable as Michael faced off against the guards who had drawn their long swords. Michael had only two choices: fight or flee. He knew he had the power to defeat them all, but he also knew that it would be a stain on his legacy if he fled the scene.

As the guards advanced towards him, Michael's eyes flashed with powerful energy, and a sudden gust of wind shot out from him. The force of the blast was so strong that it sent everyone and everything in the room flying. The candles on the table flickered and were extinguished, leaving the room shrouded in darkness. The chandelier above swayed violently before losing its light, plunging the room into complete darkness.

The only source of light in the room was the icy blue glow from the outside array, which peeked through the window and illuminated the room in a haunting light. The guards froze in their tracks, their masked faces showing shock and fear. The sudden darkness and the force of Michael's power had taken them completely by surprise.

As they stood there, uncertain of what to do, they suddenly noticed movement on the floor. It was the drunk man who had been lying there all along. The guards took a step back in fear, wondering what kind of power this man possessed.

As Michael's body lifted off the ground, the room was suddenly engulfed in a dense, black mist. The guards could barely see anything as the mist crept around them, and their fear and confusion only grew. They felt a sudden chill in the air, and the hairs on the back of their necks stood up. When Michael rose to his feet, his eyes glowed with an otherworldly darkness, and the guards could sense a powerful energy emanating from him.

The guards tried to draw their weapons and attack, but their bodies refused to obey them. They felt paralyzed by fear, unable to move as Michael approached. With a simple gesture, he released a cloud of Fear toxin that filled the air, and the guards breathed it in unknowingly. The toxin spread through their bodies, causing them to tremble and break out in cold sweat.

Tertis watched in horror as the guards stepped back, their eyes wide with terror. He had never seen anything like this before, and he knew that Michael was not to be underestimated. The room was silent except for the sound of the guards' rapid breathing and the occasional clatter of their weapons hitting the ground. Michael stood there, his eyes still glowing with dark energy, a fearsome and powerful figure that demanded respect and fear.

As the guards trembled in fear, one of them spoke up, "What is this? What kind of power does he possess?"

Another guard replied, "I don't know, but it's unlike anything I've ever felt before. We need to get out of here."

Tertis, still in shock, stuttered, "W-what's happening? What have you done?"

But Michael remained silent, his eyes still burning with dark flames as the guards slowly backed away.

Michael's eyes seemed to radiate a sinister power as they fixed on the two guards. He focused his energy, and suddenly, a powerful gust of wind exploded from his body, hurling the guards backward. They flew across the room, crashing into the walls with tremendous force.

As the guards tumbled through the air, the room was filled with a deafening noise of shattering glass and crumbling wood. The furniture toppled over, sending vases and candles crashing to the floor. The chandelier shook violently, the crystals clinking together before the fixture finally tore loose from the ceiling and crashed down in a shower of sparks.

The blast of wind was so strong that it extinguished all the candles in the room, plunging it into complete darkness, except for the faint blue glow from the outside array. The curtains flapped wildly, and papers scattered across the room, blown by the gust of wind.

The guards struggled to get back on their feet, but the fear toxin was still coursing through their veins, making it difficult for them to move. Tertis watched in shock as Michael stood unscathed, his body surrounded by the dark mist.

As Michael waited for the two guards to get back on their feet, he could hear the sounds of heavy metal boots approaching the room. The soldiers were clearly alarmed by the commotion and were hurrying to investigate. Michael remained calm and composed, assessing the situation and preparing himself for what was to come.

When the guards entered the room, they looked confused and disoriented, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Michael stood up, towering over them with a fierce look in his eyes. The guards hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do.

As the two guards slowly got back on their feet, Michael took a moment to assess the situation. He knew that Tartis had no valuable information to give him, and he felt a twinge of pity for the man. The tears that had rolled down Tartis's face when he saw Aric die were genuine, and Michael knew that he was innocent. He had done nothing against him, and he didn't plan on beating him up.

Michael could sense their fear and uncertainty, but he didn't feel any animosity towards them. He knew that they were just doing their job and had no personal vendetta against him. However, he also knew that they were collateral damage in the larger scheme of things.

As the soldiers stumbled back from the force of Michael's attacks, he continued to move with lightning-fast speed, striking with deadly precision. The first Fusion stage guard barely had time to react before Michael punched him in the chest, shattering his metal chest plate and sending him crashing to the ground in a heap.

The second guard fared no better, as Michael grabbed his head and slammed it against the wall behind him with a sickening thud. Blood splattered across the wall, painting it in a deep shade of red. Despite their advanced physical abilities, the guards were no match for Michael's raw power and skill.

As the other soldiers entered the room, they were met with a gruesome sight. The two guards lay motionless on the ground, blood pooling around them. Michael stood over them, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. The soldiers hesitated, unsure of what to do next.

The fear toxin in the air had already taken effect, causing the soldiers to inhale the toxic fumes and tremble in fear. Their reflexes and reaction time were slowed down, making it difficult for them to act quickly. Instead of dashing into the room and casting powerful spells to take down Michael, they watched him hesitantly, waiting to see what he would do next.

Michael took advantage of their hesitation, moving swiftly and gracefully as he advanced toward them. He could sense their fear and uncertainty, but he also knew that he had the upper hand. He had trained for years to master his skills and powers and was not afraid to use them when necessary.

The soldiers backed away, their eyes wide with terror as Michael raised his hands and prepared to strike. With a fierce cry, he unleashed a powerful burst of energy that sent them flying across the room. They crashed into the walls and landed in a heap, moaning in pain. Michael stood over them, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. He knew he had to send a clear message to whoever kidnapped Harry. The Dark Lord was not to be underestimated, and anyone who crossed him would pay a heavy price.

As Michael avoided using his deadly magic, the other soldiers cast their spells in a panic, trying to defend themselves against the Dark Lord's overwhelming power. The spells came fast and furious, but they were no match for Michael's quick reflexes and agile movements. He dodged each attack with ease, his body seeming to blur as he moved around the room, leaving afterimages in his wake.

The soldiers cast their spells in a frenzy, their fear and panic driving them to attack with all their might. They chanted incantations, their voices rising and falling in pitch as they summoned forth bolts of lightning, streams of fire, and waves of force. Each spell was bright and intense, illuminating the room in brilliant flashes of color.

One soldier summoned a wall of ice, hoping to trap Michael within its confines, but the Dark Lord simply melted it with a flick of his wrist. Another tried to knock Michael off his feet with a blast of energy, but the spell fizzled out harmlessly as Michael dodged out of the way.

Despite their efforts, the soldiers' spells seemed feeble and ineffective against Michael. His agility and reflexes were unmatched, allowing him to dodge the spells thrown his way easily. He moved around the room with a grace that was almost hypnotic, each movement fluid and precise.

It was as if Michael was playing a game, teasing and toying with the soldiers, testing their skills and abilities. They were no match for him, and he knew it. His confidence grew with each passing moment, and he began to taunt the soldiers, mocking their feeble attempts to take him down.

But beneath the surface, Michael was seething with rage. He knew that someone had kidnapped Harry and was determined to find out who was responsible. The soldiers were merely a distraction, a means to an end. He would take them down if he had to, but his ultimate goal was to find Harry and make whoever was responsible pay for their actions.

Michael's movements were fluid and graceful, as he darted between the soldiers with incredible speed and agility. His figure was a blur as he weaved through the chaos of the room, delivering blows that shattered metal armor and sent soldiers flying. With each strike, the sound of bones snapping echoed through the air, mingling with the metallic clang of broken armor.

The soldiers fought back with all their might, casting spells and swinging their weapons in a desperate attempt to take down the Dark Lord. But Michael seemed almost invincible, effortlessly dodging every attack and striking with deadly precision. The air crackled with energy as spells flew back and forth, but none of them managed to even touch Michael.

"What the hell is he?" cried one of the soldiers.

"Get back! Get back!" shouted another as he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet.

As Michael approached them, they screamed and begged for mercy, but he was relentless. "Please! Spare us!" they cried.

"He's not human! He's a monster!" exclaimed a third soldier.

As the battle raged on, Tertis watched in horror as the soldiers fell one by one, their bodies battered and broken. The room was filled with the stench of blood, and the air was thick with the sounds of battle.

The last soldier stumbled back, his eyes wide with fear as he saw his comrades fall one by one. He raised his hands in surrender and pleaded, "Please, spare me. I didn't want any of this. I was just following orders."

The soldier could feel the immense power radiating from Michael and knew he was no match for him. He fell to his knees, trembling and crying, hoping that Michael would spare him. But Michael was not in a merciful mood. He lifted the soldier by his neck, his powerful grip like a vice that tightened around the soldier's throat. The soldier struggled to breathe as Michael's dark flames glared into his eyes.

With a sudden burst of strength, Michael slammed the soldier against the wall with a deafening impact. The walls shook and the floors trembled as the soldier's body left a human-shaped hole in the wall. The soldier's armor clattered to the ground as he slumped to the floor, gasping for air. Michael showed no signs of mercy as he grabbed the soldier by his legs and threw him like a doll across the room. The soldier went crashing through broken tables and chairs before coming to a halt, unconscious and defeated.

The room was unrecognizable from its previous grandeur, now resembling a war-torn battlefield. The ornate furnishings that once adorned the space were now smashed into splinters, scattered across the floor like confetti. The walls were cracked and chipped, and in some places, holes were punched through them, revealing the bricks beneath. The carpet was stained with blood, and broken glass littered the ground, reflecting the shattered chandelier above.

The once-peaceful atmosphere was replaced with the heavy silence of destruction. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the sound of groaning soldiers mixed with the faint crackling of flames that had been sparked during the fight. Tertis stood there, trembling with fear, staring at the scene before him, feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of so much destruction.

Michael stood tall and still, like a statue of death, his eyes glowing with a dark, eerie fire. His presence alone was enough to fill the room with an unsettling aura. It was a scene of complete and utter chaos, with destruction and violence dominating every corner.