Hitman With A Badass System

Chapter 1157 Saving Fayeth I

Rurik, with a sense of pride and accomplishment, presented the five arrows to Michael.

"These arrows are ready for rune engravings," he announced, holding them out for Michael to see.

The arrows, carved from the centipede's bone, were sleek and perfectly balanced. Each shaft was smooth, with a natural luster that made them appear almost ethereal. The arrowheads, sharp and menacing, promised a deadly impact.

"That won't be necessary." Michael, examining the arrows, replied.

With a simple flick of his wrist, he placed the arrows into his system storage, where they vanished from sight, safely tucked away for future use.

Rurik's curiosity and shock were evident on his face.

"How exactly are you planning to kill Rainar? And what happens if you actually succeed in killing a god?" Asked Rurik.

Michael chuckled lightly, a twinkle in his eye.

"We'll have to wait and see, Rurik. Some things are better left as surprises."

"I hope Rainar's death will put an end to the war between him and Kranar. Nimbosia has suffered enough under the rule of a tyrant god. Its people deserve freedom and peace." The dwarven blacksmith sighed as his expression turned somber.

Michael's smile faded as he considered Rurik's words. The weight of their actions and the potential consequences were not lost on him. The path ahead was unknown and filled with dangers, but the goal was clear – to kill a god.

Feeling the need for solitude to reflect on their next steps, Michael turned to Rurik.

"I need some time alone. Please, take care of your business and leave me for a while," he requested gently.

Rurik sighed, a deep understanding in his eyes as he looked up at Michael.

"You're not like the other gods, John," he said earnestly.

"I hope you'll be one who truly gives a damn about the people." With those parting words, filled with hope and a bit of concern, Rurik left the hall, his heavy footsteps echoing slightly as he departed.

Once alone, Michael felt Vedora crawl up his arm and perch on his shoulder. The three-headed hydra seemed to sense the gravity of their mission and the burdens it carried.

"Now all we need to do is get into the gala and kill the god," Ayag said, breaking the silence. Her tone a mixture of determination and a hint of apprehension about the daunting task ahead.

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the challenge they faced. Michael stood there, his thoughts focused on the upcoming gala, the weapon they had created, and the monumental task of assassinating a god.

As Michael stood in contemplation, the earpiece crackled to life, and Pink's voice came through.

"I've got good and bad news about the gala invitation," she said.

"Which do you want to hear first?"

"What is it?" he asked, following his companion's gaze.

The first angel hesitated, then shook his head slightly.

"I thought I saw someone," he murmured, still uncertain.

The second angel glanced around the dimly lit alley and shrugged.

"It's just a dark alley. You're seeing shadows," he said dismissively, and with a flap of their wings, the two resumed their patrol.

Michael remained motionless until they were out of sight. His ability to remain undetected in the heart of the enemy's territory was crucial. With the angels moving on, he continued his journey through the rain-soaked kingdom, his mission clear in his mind.

Ayag, perched on Michael's shoulder, advised him with a sense of urgency,

"Unlike last time, we'll get caught if we try to use the rooftops to travel to Fayeth. The angels' patrols are too thorough."

Michael nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the drenched landscape.

"I see that," he said, tapping the skull head medallion on his chest. Instantly, armor began to emerge from the medallion, seamlessly covering his body from head to toe. The armor was sleek and dark, blending perfectly with the shadows of the night.

With his armor now fully deployed, Michael submerged himself into the flooded streets. His skull mask, an integral part of his suit, enabled him to breathe underwater. The mask was connected to his APD built into the suit, which pumped oxygen-rich potions directly into his bloodstream, allowing him to navigate the submerged streets without the need for air.

Moving swiftly and silently beneath the water's surface, Michael made his way towards Ava's temple, where Fayeth was known to be. His approach was undetectable, the flooded streets providing the perfect cover for his stealthy advance.

The journey to the temple was a silent one, with only the muffled sounds of the city above and the occasional shadow of an angel patrolling the skies.

After a while, Michael slowly emerged from the water, his movements cautious and measured. Peeking his head just above the surface, he witnessed a scene of destruction and chaos. Several angels, their wings beating furiously in the rain, were demolishing Ava's temple. Amidst the rubble and debris, another orc's clone stood, whip in hand, lashing out at the people who had gathered there.

The cries of the people filled the air, their pleas for mercy heart-wrenching.

"Please, no more! We've done nothing wrong!" one of them cried out, trying to shield themselves from the relentless whipping.

Another, tears streaming down their face, begged, "Spare us! We are but simple followers, we have no quarrel with Rainar!"

The orc, his face twisted in a cruel sneer, shouted over the cries,

"Soon, I will whip Fayeth to death inside Rainar's temple and make her pay for her treacherous acts against Rainar!"

Inside Michael's armor, Sarba cooped away from the water, heard the orc's threats and felt a surge of urgency.

"Ghost, we need to save Fayeth before those evil scumbags hurt her," he said, his voice filled with determination.

Michael's eyes narrowed as he observed the orc clone's brutality. A cold killing intent settled over him.

"Time to end this show," he muttered to himself, his voice low and dangerous.

"I'll save Fayeth, and anyone who stands in my way will punch their ticket straight to hell. Mercy will not be an option here,"

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