Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 141 141: The actual processTimeless AssassinC141 141: The actual process
After warning Leo about all the risks associated with the breakthrough, Hen began explaining the process itself.
"It starts with a breakthrough potion. A volatile compound that supercharges your mana core and floods your system with raw energy. The second it hits, your mana circuits are forced to widen. And I don't mean gently," Hen said, mimicking the motion of drinking from a bottle. His face twitched in discomfort, as if haunted by memories better left buried.
"It's like shoving a hurricane through a straw," he muttered with a grim expression. "Most people scream. Some go catatonic. And those who haven't trained their mental limit? They die on the spot."
Leo nodded, slow and expressionless. "I see."
Internally, he was already imagining how he'd direct the flow—mapping out his current circuit pathways, noting the weaknesses he'd need to reinforce before attempting such a surge. The danger didn't intimidate him; it simply presented a formula with very real consequences.
"If you survive that," Hen continued, "the mana doesn't just move through your circuits anymore. It starts infiltrating your nervous system and bloodstream. That's when your body begins to change on a physiological level."
"At key overlap points—your spine, your heart, your major arteries—your mana circuits start merging with your biology. These merge zones are called Chakra Nodes. Each one becomes a fusion point between your nervous system, bloodstream, and mana circuits."
"This stage is excruciating. But once it's complete, your muscles begin receiving mana directly. Think of it like switching from combustion fuel to clean energy.
But this comes with a risk.
Because if your body's not strong enough and your muscles can't take it. They melt.
Which will leave you crippled in seconds." Hen said, giving Leo a meaningful look.
"But if you're ready… your body adapts. It upgrades. High-performance engine, high-grade fuel. Everything becomes smoother, faster, stronger."
Hen paused, letting the silence carry the weight of that sentence.
"But it's not over yet."
Leo didn't move, but his mind was already ticking. He absorbed everything Hen said and started to envision it in a chronological order, listing out the risks associated with each stage.
"After that stage, once you're overloaded. That same energy that helped you break through becomes toxic if left unused. So you have to burn it—fast."
"You activate every technique you've got. Back-to-back. Rapid-fire. Anything to drain yourself dry, because if you hesitate, even for a second, that mana starts corroding you from the inside."
Hen's tone darkened.
"At this point, you'll be in so much pain—mentally and physically—you won't be able to perform anything that isn't pure instinct. Your body won't be stable enough to execute skills you haven't perfected."
"That's why skill perfection before breaking through is mandatory," Hen added. "Because only when a move becomes second nature can you rely on it during the breakthrough."
Leo nodded again. No emotion. But internally, he felt enlightened to know the actual reason behind needing skill perfection.
It was actually because he needed those skills to quickly burn off excess mana, because if he did not, he could die.
"And once you're empty… completely hollowed out… after all the excess energy is gone," Hen said quietly, "that's when you move to the final step."
"You release your own natural mana into your new body. You flood the system—every inch of it. Because if you don't fill it in time, your body, now redesigned to live off mana, starts shutting down."
"You'll feel like you're holding your breath in a vacuum—like suffocating from the inside out."
Hen's voice flattened.
"And if you don't have enough mana to fully saturate your new body? Then the transformation halts. You end up in a broken state—alive, but ruined. Your circuits won't work right. You'll never reach Grandmaster."
Leo stood still, processing the sequence like a tactical report. Step by step. Each phase was brutal—but precise. There were no random factors here. Just thresholds. Control. Preparation.
Hen let out a breath, breaking the silence.
"That's the path, kid. Becoming a Grandmaster isn't leveling up. It's being torn apart and rebuilt. And only if you survive it all do you get to ascend."
He exhaled again, softer this time.
"You're lucky you're doing this at the Rodova Military Academy. The institution provides you with one of the highest-grade breakthrough potions in the system—for free."
Hen's voice turned slightly nostalgic.
"When I was a Master, I had to gather the ingredients myself. I scoured wild zones for some herbs, bought some on the black market, begged others for some in exchange for favors I'd rather forget."
He shook his head.
"And even after all that, I still had to pay an alchemist to brew it. And trust me, he wasn't top-tier. My potion had minor impurities… burned like hell going down. I was lucky to survive."
Leo didn't respond. But he finally understood his privilege for being a Rodova Military Academy student.
Because, if he wasn't here, he would have to struggle a lot more to get the same results.
Just because his environment would demand it from him.
"Outside this academy, nothing comes easy," Hen said, as he offered Leo some genuine life advice.
"When you're inevitably someday ready to break through to the Transcendent stage, don't expect anyone to hand you a potion. Start planning for it years in advance."
He leaned in slightly, voice quiet.
"Because if you don't… it'll take years just to gather the materials and find an alchemist talented enough to brew it for you."
Leo gave one final nod, slow and deliberate.
He understood now.
Standing here, in the heart of Rodova, surrounded by systems built to support him—he was living in a controlled environment. A privilege most warriors in the real world would kill for.
Universal Government soldiers spent decades in service to earn the right to a breakthrough potion. Independent warriors risked their lives hunting down each ingredient on their own, hoping they wouldn't die before the last one was found.
Compared to them, Leo's path had been easy.
And Hen had made it very clear—
It wouldn't stay that way forever, which was why he needed to be grateful for what he had today and prepare thoroughly for what he might not have tomorrow.
"Thank-you for the explanation Major Hen, I think I understand the entire breakthrough process clearly now.
I feel like I'll be ready to break through in about a week's time from now, but I'll let you know when I'm ready," Leo said, as Hen nodded with pride towards him.
"That's right kid. It's about time you break through—-
I've been sparring against you for months now... if you don't break through even after all that help, it will reflect badly on me as an instructor.
Hahaha!" Hen chuckled, as he slapped Leo on the shoulders.
"Just remember…. Take proper rest before you attempt a breakthrough.
With the way you're training these days, I worry for your sanity.
So when you're at the threshold. Just take a day to relax and get to your peak, and only then attempt it.
Maybe sleep for 9-12 hours the previous day.
But burn off every inch of fatigue you have in you before you do it.
The process is dangerous, and many have lost their lives trying to attempt it when they were not ready" Hen warned, as Leo gave him a final nod of understanding.
"Don't worry Major… I'll keep your advice in mind," Leo said before turning to leave.
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 142 142: CelebrationTimeless AssassinC142 142: Celebration
(7 Days Later – Rodova Military Academy)
Drip… Drip…
Sweat trickled down Leo's forehead as his body trembled under the relentless weight of accumulated exertion, every muscle fiber twitching from constant tension as the heat surged through him like a furnace nearing combustion.
'Just a little more…' he told himself, activating [Parallel Processing] as his mind fragmented across multiple layers—calculating his opponent's movement patterns, regulating his own breathing, analyzing air currents, and maintaining his stance with machine-like precision.
*TWAP*
He felt a droplet sliding down his brow, tracking every millimeter of its descent in real time, sensing the exact moment it detached from his chin and began falling. [Absolute Vision] locked onto it mid-air, tracing its arc all the way to the floor as if even gravity itself had slowed to accommodate his perception.
But Leo's focus wasn't on the sweat—it was on the man across from him.
Major Das, the Academy's Archery Instructor, moved like a seasoned predator, releasing another arrow with a fluid snap of his bowstring as the projectile whistled past Leo's cheek, cutting through the air just inches from his skin.
Leo's gaze didn't waver, as he had already anticipated the shot. His eyes were locked onto the subtle tightening of the Major's ankles and the controlled coiling of his thigh muscles, clear signs he was about to leap backward to regain distance.
'No—you're not getting away.'
As his thoughts aligned with his instincts, Leo activated [Mirror World], conjuring two identical clones behind the Major with a flicker of light and distortion. The clones surged forward immediately, forming a physical wall at the precise point where Das would've landed, as Leo denied him the space he sought.
Caught mid-motion, the Major was forced to pivot on instinct, dispatching the clones in twin slashes as sparks flew from the contact—precious seconds lost in the maneuver.
'That's it… there's my opening.'
Without a moment's hesitation, Leo activated [Thousand Phantom Slashes] as mana flooded through his limbs and blurred his form into motion, his speed transcending normal perception as his body became a ripple of shifting afterimages.
He lunged in with surgical precision, his blade dancing through the air with deceptive rhythm. Every strike was masked behind layered illusions, each step feeding into the next as his slashes overlapped and folded over one another like a spiraling storm of steel and shadows—designed not just to strike, but to overwhelm.
*SHINGG—* *SHING—*
The courtyard rang with the sound of clashing steel and tearing wind as Leo advanced like a machine—precise, relentless, and cold. His movements followed a perfect algorithm, calculated and honed over countless repetitions.
Major Das narrowed his eyes as he shifted into a tighter stance, his breathing slowing even under pressure.
With a quick motion, his bow snapped into its compact blade form as he parried one afterimage, then another, each strike blocked with just enough force to maintain balance.
Despite the assault, Das stayed composed, his eyes cutting through the swarm of illusions as he waited—not for an opening—but for the real Leo to reveal himself.
He baited a strike to the left and caught a glimpse of flickering movement to his right—spinning just in time to meet the real blade aimed at his ribs.
"You're fast, Skyshard… but not fast enough," Das muttered, as he stomped his heel into the ground.
*BAM.*
A controlled shockwave rippled through the platform, distorting the air and scattering the illusion field for a single instant—just long enough for Das to fully lock onto Leo's position.
Twisting on his heel, the Major drove the flat of his blade into Leo's side, following through with a sweeping kick enhanced by condensed mana. The impact struck like a hammer, the air around them pulsing outward as Leo was launched off his feet.
He flew backward, boots scraping against the stone as sparks flared beneath him.
The momentum carried him across the arena floor, his body skidding several meters before finally halting near the platform's edge, where he dropped to one knee.
He had lost this exchange.
But instead of frustration, Leo began to chuckle.
It started low—hoarse and dry from exertion—but quickly built into something deeper, something unhinged.
His shoulders trembled as laughter spilled from him, echoing through the otherwise silent courtyard, raw and feral in tone.
Major Das furrowed his brow as he watched. "What…?"
However, just as suddenly as it began, the laughter stopped.
Leo's head lifted, his face wiped clean of emotion as if nothing had happened.
The grin that had twisted across his lips vanished in an instant as he rose to his feet with eerie composure, brushing dust from his uniform with slow, methodical movements.
Das eyed him warily, the previous moment still lingering in his mind.
"…What happened, Cadet?" he asked, his voice calm but cautious.
Leo adjusted his stance, tapped the hilt of his blade once, and glanced up with clinical focus.
'Now I understand… this is what it feels like.'
"My last skill broke through to Perfect mastery during this fight," Leo said, his voice smooth but charged with quiet certainty. "I can feel it now—I'm ready to attempt a breakthrough"
A faint grin played at the corners of his mouth, subtle but undeniably real, while his eyes remained sharp and unblinking.
Major Das studied him for a second longer before nodding once.
"Very well… Congratulations."
Leo straightened, raised a closed fist to his chest, and gave a crisp, precise salute.
"Thank you, sir."
—----------
(Rodova Military Academy – Principal Alric's Office)
If there was one man more eager for Leo Skyshard to reach the threshold of a breakthrough than Leo himself, it was Principal Alric Dainhart.
For weeks, the man had been living on edge—checking reports daily, reviewing combat footage, obsessing over training logs—his patience stretched thin, his nerves tighter than the Academy's security seal during an universal government inspection.
And now, finally, the news he had been praying for had arrived.
"So… just two days before the Selections begin… Skyshard is ready to break through!"
Alric's voice cracked through the silence of his grand office as he leapt to his feet, his usual composed demeanor crumbling beneath sheer relief.
"Haha—!"
The laughter that followed wasn't just joy—it was release.
He strode over to a tall cabinet lined with aged bottles and pulled open the glass doors, revealing a dark bottle of whiskey sealed in wax, labeled with a handwritten tag: "For Victory."
He popped it open with ceremonial reverence, the click of the cork echoing in the room like the tolling of a bell, as reaching for a crystal glass, he dropped in two perfectly cut ice cubes before pouring himself a generous measure.
"This… this is wonderful news," he muttered, almost in disbelief. "If he breaks through successfully, then including him and Su Yang, we'll have four Grandmasters in this year's lineup."
He raised the glass slightly in the air—half in toast, half in prayer—as he stared out the window overlooking the distant training grounds, the horizon painted in shades of gold and violet.
"The tides are turning…"
Alric took a slow sip, savoring the warmth that spread through his chest as the whiskey slid down with silky precision. It tasted like vindication.
He leaned back in his chair, propping his boots up on the corner of his oakwood desk as he exhaled deeply, the weight of uncertainty finally lifting off his shoulders.
"Easy there, Alric…" he said aloud, speaking to himself with a grin. "You're the man. You're going to bring glory back to this institution."
"No more second place. No more being overshadowed by those smug bastards from Geneva."
"The talents you invested in… they're going to save your neck."
He took another sip, eyes momentarily closing as he let the warmth anchor him to this rare, quiet moment.
"Aghhh—"
A sigh of deep satisfaction escaped him, carried by the rich scent of oak and aged spirit as he finally felt the tension begin to dissolve.
For the first time in weeks… Principal Alric Dainhart believed he might actually get a full night's sleep.
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 143 143: Grandmaster Achieved!Timeless AssassinC143 143: Grandmaster Achieved!
(Rodova Military Academy – The Day Before the Breakthrough)
After reaching the threshold for his breakthrough, Leo finally took a full day off—just as Major Hen had advised.
It was the first time in months that he allowed himself to stop, and only in the stillness of rest did he realize how much his body had been screaming beneath the surface.
The aches weren't sharp, but deep and systemic—settled into his bones like a second skin. Every joint throbbed dully, his muscles felt like tightly wound cables fraying at the edges, and even his breath carried a lingering heaviness that he had grown too used to ignoring.
That day, Leo slept.
Not the shallow naps he'd been surviving on between training sessions, but true, uninterrupted rest.
For seventeen hours, his body remained still—his mind silent—as the accumulated strain of relentless grinding bled away.
When he finally opened his eyes the next morning, his body felt light. Focused. Alive.
He stood, dressed, and walked to the Promotion Wing of the Rodova Military Academy—his mind razor-sharp and his aura quiet, like the stillness before a storm.
—----------
(Rodova Military Academy – Promotion Room)
The Promotion Room was massive, its structure composed entirely of reinforced obsidian-tinted steel designed to withstand magical explosions and high-pressure mana bursts.
The chamber was bare—no runes, no markings, no equipment—just emptiness, as if inviting chaos to fill it.
It was built for one purpose only: to allow a warrior to transcend safely.
Major Hen stood waiting just inside the entrance, holding a sleek vial of violet-blue liquid—the Grandmaster Breakthrough Potion. The mana swirling inside glowed faintly, as though photosensitive and mystical.
He handed the vial to Leo without ceremony, his gaze firm.
"Once the chakra node formation stops—-
Once the mana stops building your body and starts boiling it… that's your sign.
You burn it all immediately. No hesitation.
You will have a window of about 1.5-2 seconds to burn it all before it starts to damage your body, and if you take anything more than 5 seconds, then you will be a lost cause.
So remember to act rapidly at that point" Hen warned, as Leo nodded without a word, gripping the vial tightly as Hen gave him one final look before stepping outside and sealing the heavy steel door behind him with a dull clang.
—---------
Once Hen left, Leo stepped into the center of the room, his breathing slow and even as he knelt down, placing the vial before him.
He took one last moment of stillness.
One last breath as a Master.
Then he uncorked the vial and downed its contents.
The potion was warm—strangely smooth at first—but within seconds, that warmth turned molten. A surge of energy exploded through his chest, flooding his mana core with violent force as it rushed into every corner of his body.
The pain hit almost instantly.
It wasn't sharp, but vast—a wave of pressure that bloomed from his core outward, like he was being inflated from the inside.
His circuits lit up as the mana burst into them like a flood through a narrow canal, forcefully widening them with each second that passed.
Leo clenched his jaw, body shaking as he dropped to one knee, mana sparking wildly around him. His vision blurred, his muscles tensed, and he could feel the walls of his circuits stretching, tearing, and healing all at once in a maddening loop of destruction and repair.
'Endure. Direct. Control it.'
He could feel his mind guide him, as [Monarch's Indifference] seemed to be working overtime to maintain rationality through this irrational pain.
Gritting his teeth, Leo focused everything into his flow—directing the mana through his arms, legs, spine—as the potion-fueled torrent continued to rampage within.
His skin flushed red, veins bulging across his body as mana-infused blood began interfacing with his nervous system.
And then, it began.
The chakra nodes started forming.
First along his spine—tiny convergence points where mana circuits, nerves, and blood vessels overlapped and fused.
One by one, they ignited, each formation burning like a miniature sun as it locked into place. The pain was searing, but Leo's expression remained fixed, his mind processing each change with surgical clarity.
With every new node, his body transformed—muscles growing tighter, more compact, as strength surged through him at levels he had never touched before.
Everything felt amplified. Reaction time, movement speed, power output—all operating under a new fuel source, as mana coursed directly into his tissues through his bloodstream.
He was faster. Sharper. Stronger.
But it didn't last.
What had felt like clean energy began to twist. The mana still circulating inside him started to boil—not figuratively, but literally—as a blistering heat ignited in his chest and spread outward. His veins seared. His muscles throbbed. The mana had begun turning toxic.
This was the window.
As despite the mind numbing pain, Leo moved without hesitation.
In a single moment, he activated [Thousand Phantom Slashes], [Celestial Veil], [Parallel Processing], and [Absolute Vision] all at once—layering offense, defense, precision, and awareness into a synchronized, explosive burst.
His blade screamed through the air, afterimages multiplying in every direction as his limbs blurred into motion. Celestial Veil shimmered over his skin, protecting his burning muscles for just long enough to keep moving. Parallel Processing fractured his mind into hyper-efficiency, allowing him to cast and strike simultaneously. Absolute Vision tracked every particle of motion around him in perfect clarity.
With a roar, he drove his blade into the reinforced wall—tearing a chunk of steel loose with sheer force—only for the debris to collapse inward in response.
He didn't flinch.
[Full Counter] ignited a heartbeat later, his hand flashing up as he redirected the incoming mass mid-air, returning it with twice the force, vaporizing it in the process and triggering a secondary shockwave.
All of this—every skill, every surge of power—happened in the span of half a second.
And yet… It wasn't enough.
His body still surged with residual mana, skin pulsing red, lungs on fire.
So he did it again.
Once.
Then twice.
Each time pushing harder, layering skills faster, tearing into his surroundings with relentless precision as he burned away every last trace of the unstable energy within him.
And finally—
There was nothing left.
No mana. No strength. No weight behind his limbs, as he managed to burn everything away within two seconds, thanks to him layering all his skills one over another.
"GAH—"
He dropped to one knee, gasping, as the silence of the chamber pressed down on him like a collapsing star.
His body trembled, blood cooling, skin pale. His muscles refused to contract fully, his heart slowed, and a sensation unlike anything he had ever felt set in:
He felt like a fish out of water. Breathless. Suffocating. Dying.
And then he reached inward.
Summoning the natural mana stored in his core, and deep within the very cells of his blood, as he began to circulate it.
Slowly at first—his consciousness tethered to the fragile thread of life still flickering inside him—as he guided the pure, stable mana through his freshly expanded circuits.
The difference was immediate.
Where the potion's mana had burned like wildfire, his own mana moved like cool water—soothing, harmonizing, filling.
"Gasp—"
Leo inhaled sharply, his lungs expanding as life returned to his body in waves. His vision steadied. His heartbeat normalized.
And his body—reborn under a new law—came alive once more.
He had done it!
He had successfully became a Grandmaster without any accidents, as the chambers gates slid open, and a team of medical staff rushed all around him.
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 144 144: ImprovementsTimeless AssassinC144 144: Improvements
(Rodova Military Academy – Principal Alric's Office)
*WHIRRR*
*TAP* *TAP*
The quiet hum of the air system was the only sound in the vast chamber, broken occasionally by the gentle tapping of a stylus against glass.
Principal Alric Dainhart sat at his polished desk, legs crossed, eyes scanning a glowing data slate resting on the surface before him.
A live biometric breakdown of Leo Skyshard flickered across the screen, as Alric studied the improvements that had happened in his body after the tier promotion.
As per protocol, Leo was taken to the physical assessment chamber after his Break-Through, where the machines took a new reading of his body, providing Alric with a whole new data-set to compare Leo's previous self to now.
Muscle Tensile Strength: +273%
Explosive Force Output: +292%
Recovery Speed (Cellular Regeneration): +315%
Stamina Recovery Rate: +244%
Tendon Durability: +267%
Joint Flexibility: +228%
Neuromuscular Reflex Speed: +358%
He exhaled—long, slow, and deep—as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Impressive…" he murmured, leaning back in his chair as he laced his fingers together over his chest.
If there had been one area where Leo had noticeably lagged behind his peers before his tier promotion, it had been raw strength.
His tactical thinking, combat intuition, and mana control had always been elite—but his physical output was… average at best.
But not anymore.
Alric flicked the screen, bringing up a comparative bar graph of Leo's stats from six months ago versus now.
The transformation was staggering. Growth rates in the 200–400% range across every category.
While several areas had even crossed the 350% threshold—especially those linked to movement, speed, and neuromuscular precision.
Leo's current baseline strength now sat squarely within the range of the Academy's Elite Grandmaster warriors of the past, and just a notch below Su Yang, who had long been hailed as the strongest physical combatant to join Rodova within the past 100 years.
But Leo did not need to match Su Yang's raw power anymore.
Because where Yang had brute force, Leo had speed.
Where Yang could punch through stone, Leo could appear behind his opponent before the punch even landed.
"He's closed the gap in his weakness… and widened the gap in his strengths," Alric whispered, a note of admiration entering his tone. "What a terrifying result… A prodigious breakthrough."
He set the data slate down and took a moment to simply breathe.
Weeks of pressure, of holding his breath for this exact moment, finally dissolved into satisfaction. The boy had made it through. Not only that—he had exceeded expectations in every category that mattered.
Alric's eyes drifted toward the window, his gaze piercing through the glass to the sprawling campus outside.
Beyond the courtyard, he could see instructors moving about, Cadets running drills, and the unmistakable energy of anticipation rising across the Academy grounds.
Circuit Team Selections… Two days from now.
He could already imagine it.
"Those idiots who doubted me…" he said with a chuckle, rising from his chair and straightening his coat.
"Those idiots who said it's stupid to just invest so many resources into uplifting two talents. They have no idea what's about to happen—" Alric said, as he gleefully chuckled to himself.
"Skyshard, Yang, those two stepping onto the battlefield tomorrow against senior students a full tier below them….. it's going to be a bloodbath!" He said, his voice holding no malice, just certainty.
—------------
(Rodova Military Academy, Muiyan Faye's Room)
"He's done it. Leo broke through without any hiccups." Muiyan Faye informed via the communication crystal, as the silence that followed wasn't a surprise.
It was as expected.
A few heartbeats passed before a voice echoed from the crystal—low, male, and frigid as stone submerged in still water.
"…As he should."
The elder's tone carried no praise. Only inevitability.
"I trust you're still monitoring him closely," the voice continued. "Now more than ever, we need to understand his rate of growth. A Grandmaster at his age is rare… but not unprecedented."
Faye nodded once. "I've kept detailed records of his progression. There's been no deviation in behavior—so far."
"Good. That may change. Strength awakens memory. And memory for him… is dangerous."
There was a faint crackle in the air as the elder's tone sharpened.
"If he awakens memories of his family before we give it to him, it may make Leo distrust us, as he may be exposed to a half picture.
Instead, let's use his memories as a carrot and dangle it before him to perform well at the circuits.
Inform the boy that if he performs well at the circuits and gets selected to join the Black Serpents Guild, he is to be given memories of his family back—" The elder instructed, as Faye widened her eyes in surprise.
Leo's family remained the cult's most powerful leverage over him, and his family was the only reason behind Leo agreeing to take on such a difficult mission.
If Leo somehow recalled fragments of his family life before the Evil Cult returned his memories, it could cause his behaviour to change drastically, as depending on what he recalls, his impression of the Evil Cult may shift dramatically.
Under such circumstances, the promise of giving him back his memories in due time was the best counter to him not becoming restless.
Which was why Faye wholeheartedly agreed with the elders suggestion.
"Very well, it shall be done as you suggested—" Faye confirmed, as the connection abruptly terminated.
With Leo now becoming a Grandmaster, his life in the shadows was nearing its end, as once he stepped onto the limelight of the circuits, very soon every major power in the universe was going to be made aware of a budding new talent called 'Leo Skyshard'.
Under such scrutiny, whether Leo thrived or failed would determine not only his own future, but the future of the whole Evil Cult.
As although the elder did not voice those words today…. Muiyan Faye could already hear them being whispered in-between the pauses of his sentences.
'The next dragon—'
Muiyan Faye knew it.
Leo had it in him to become the next dragon and from today onwards, he was on a fast track to getting there.
—-------- xx xx —------------
END OF VOLUME 1.
—-------- xx xx —-------------
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 145 145: RegretsTimeless AssassinC145 145: Regrets
The Timeless Assassin, Vol 2.
(The Next Dragon)
—-------------
"If you study the psychology of those affiliated with the so-called 'Evil Cult,' you will find not madness—but extreme narcissism.
They do not deny the supremacy of gods out of disbelief.
They reject them out of competition.
To them, divinity is not a destination—it is a rival to be outshone, surpassed, and ultimately destroyed."
— Dr. Major Klaasen, Universal Government Psychology of Crime Journal, Vol. 87
—--------------
(Planet Ixtal – Capital World of the Cult of Ascension)
If seen through an objective lens, then Ixtal was just another bustling planet—rich in biodiversity, climate-zoned cities, and a population exceeding twelve billion civilians. Markets thrived. Small police ships patrolled its orbit. Children played in the streets of domed arcologies that kissed the clouds.
At a glance, it was no different from any other highly urbanized planetary hub in the galaxy.
But that illusion ended the moment one tried to leave orbit.
Ixtal's defense systems were unmatched. Entire continents were rigged with anti-Arc Ship rail turrets capable of punching through planetary shields.
The atmosphere itself was layered with invisible disruption webs and complex mana arrays that were designed to tear apart any unauthorized warp drives before they could initiate jump sequences.
Its skies were protected by hardened orbital arrays, capable of tracking and vaporizing a fleet within seconds of detection.
And the surface?
Its largest cities were hidden behind folded space barriers, their locations warped and redirected through a network of reality distortion nodes so intricate that even the Universal Government had yet to map them.
All of this protection, all of this effort, was not for the twelve billion civilians.
It was for the man who ruled from within its heart.
Soron.
The current God of the Cult of Ascension—known to the rest of the universe only as the Evil Cult.
—-------
Nestled within the dense canopy of the Lost Forest, far from the floating cities and military complexes, stood a castle—if one could call it that. No taller than a noble's estate, nor grander than a baron's fortress.
Its stone walls were gray, unpolished. No spires reached for the stars. No symbols adorned its face.
The castle was quiet, functional, unassuming, and it reflected its occupant and his simple nature.
Inside the castle, from the innermost chamber, steam curled upward from a sunken medicinal bath that glowed with a dim crimson light.
Crystalline herbs floated in the liquid, hissing as they slowly dissolved, releasing pungent fumes that smelled of copper and burnt incense.
A man stood at the edge of the bath, his body slack, robes loosely draped over his shoulders.
*Cough*
*Cough*
The sound echoed in the silence—dry, harsh, mortal.
A god should not cough.
Gods, after all, were four-dimensional creatures—transcendent beings capable of rewinding time, skipping to moments before they were harmed, erasing wounds from the record of reality itself.
And yet…
As Soron let his robe fall to the ground, the truth came into view.
His body was ravaged.
Long black scars crisscrossed his chest and arms—some deep, others shallow, but all very much real. Where wounds hadn't sealed, dark pus leaked from open lesions that shimmered with corrupted energy, pulsing in rhythm with some otherworldly parasite that no amount of time manipulation could erase.
The immortality of gods had failed him.
*TWUP*
He stepped slowly into the bath, the liquid making a slight noise as the surface tension broke, as immediately he let out a breath of relief, as the heat of the bath met his raw flesh.
The crimson fluid clung to his skin like blood.
His eyes remained half-lidded, unfocused, as if seeing far beyond the chamber. Beyond Ixtal. Beyond the universe.
And yet… still trapped here.
Still wounded.
Still dying.
The wounds inflicted from the blade of the Timeless Assassin did not heal.
It was the only blade in the universe which inflicted unhealable wounds, which was a big reason behind the Timeless Assassin being able to kill as many gods as he did.
However, unfortunately after the Great Betrayal 2000 years ago, that blade fell into the hands of Kaelith The Eternal Sovereign….. or rather Kaelith The Dog.
Who unfortunately happened to be his elder brother—
However, although the Great Betrayal was two thousand years ago, Soron still bore the wounds of that day.
The wounds inflicted on him during that days fight, refused to heal even 2000 years later, as although he survived that day, the blades lingering corruption energy developed an infection in his body over time.
The infection had spread slowly at first— looking nothing more than lingering mana rot from the blade that had once slain gods.
But now, even a god's divine physiology could no longer keep pace. The pus that oozed from beneath his scars was not ordinary rot. It was legacy poison, remnants of an unhealable truth—that Soron was dying.
*TWABLE*
Soron shifted in the bath, the crimson water lapping at the sides as another breath escaped his lips. Not out of pain.
But from acceptance.
'I'm running out of time.'
He had known this for a while—but he kept the knowledge hidden beneath centuries of strength and ceremony.
But the signs had grown harder to ignore recently.
Longer recoveries. Slower mana cycling. And now… even his grip on time was beginning to slip.
A god who could not step beyond the fourth dimension was a pretender, nothing more than an injured demi-god playing dress-up with immortality.
And Soron had already accepted the fact that he was no longer the warrior that he once was.
And that meant one thing.
If no one rose to take his place soon, the Cult of Ascension, a.k.a. the Evil Cult, as the universe called it—would fall.
The Universal Government had tolerated Ixtal's independence not out of mercy, but fear. Soron's existence had been the shield, the great unknown that even their pantheon of gods tread carefully around.
While the other cult-held worlds, scattered and few, clung to that illusion of protection like drowning men to driftwood.
But once he was gone…
Without him, there would be no deterrent. No balance. No bluff to play.
'One hundred and fifty years,' he thought. 'That's all I can afford them. After that…'
The image formed in his mind unbidden—black flames spreading across Ixtal's cities, orbit cannons silenced, and warships breaching folded space barriers with contemptuous ease.
And then silence.
That would be the end.
Unless someone stepped forward.
Unless the prophecy came true.
Soron's eyes narrowed slightly as he dipped lower into the bath, the blood-red liquid reaching his lips.
He believed in the prophecy.
He believed that someone from his bloodline would someday rise to become the next Timeless Assassin.
However, he just didn't know when?
He had spent the last hundred years engineering the perfect storm—curating bloodlines, manipulating blood oaths, bending fate until it aligned just enough to carve out a single chance.
One candidate. One vessel. One dragon.
But unfortunately, not one promising candidate had appeared yet.
No-one that could truly take his spot.
As it was this pressure of having no suitable candidate, that made Soron feel like he was ageing a year with every passing month.
'2000 years…. But I still miss you…. Father—
2000 years, and I still couldn't leave a legacy half as good as yours.'
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 146 146: Selection DayTimeless AssassinC146 146: Selection Day
(Rodova Military Academy – Circuit Team Selection Day)
Circuits Selection Day at Rodova was always a strange blend of hope and heartbreak, as cadets who had trained for months—sometimes even their entire lives for the circuits—gathered in the Rodova Grand Arena with a single dream in mind, which was to make it to the Interstellar Circuit's!
The Interstellar Circuit was a chance to stand beneath the galaxy's spotlight, to be watched by billions, to fight on the grandest stage and to have one's name whispered in recruitment halls across the stars.
And hence, almost all students who enrolled into Rodova, almost always competed to try and make it to the circuits, as it was truly a tournament like no other.
For the 125 students who had enrolled into Rodova this year, today was the day that their dream of making it to the circuit would either come to life—or quietly wither into dust, as Rodova operated under a strict meritocracy, where talent reigned supreme and strength served as the only currency.
In Rodova, even the current Circuit Team members—despite representing the academy through every pre-season match—could potentially lose their team slots today to another, should they be bested in battle.
As Rodova provided this one final opportunity to all, where anyone with the strength could make it to the team.
It didn't matter if you were a first year student.
It didn't matter if you were a second year who was not selected for the summer camp or the team up-till now.
If you could claim your spot today…. You could still go to the circuits.
—---------
The viewing hall outside the arena buzzed with nervous energy. Dozens of cadets stood shoulder to shoulder, gear strapped tight, all eyes locked on the bracket screens as names continued to load.
"I heard ninety-three people signed up to face the weakest fighter in the circuit's team this year," someone muttered.
"Nearly double what it was last year..... So I kinda pity them all--- for they will have to face each other before they face Enzo"
A first-year clenched his fists. "Please don't match me with a second-year…"
"Second-year? Bro, if I end up in Leo's bracket, I'm throwing the towel before the bell rings."
Laughter tried to lighten the tension, but it quickly faded.
Even without stepping into the arena, Leo Skyshard and Su Yang had already warped the tournament just by existing.
Both had broken through to Grandmaster status—something unheard of for first-years—and the rumors of their training duels with instructors were the stuff of hallway legend.
"Su Yang's not even ranked yet and people are saying he's stronger than most of the students from Geneva."
"Leo's worse. I lost vision of him while he was sparring with Professor Powell once and he just… vanished. I don't think he even uses the same metrics as us anymore."
Suddenly, the conversations died as a familiar sound cut through the chatter.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Major Hen entered with a clipboard in hand and a face like a loaded weapon. He didn't speak right away—just looked over the room like he was waiting for the chatter to die down.
"Listen up," he finally said, flicking his wrist, as ten portraits floated into view—each representing one of the current Circuit Team members. Rank. Year. Combat stats.
"You've all selected your opponents for today.
And before you guys bitch or moan, let me inform you that your choices are now locked.
There will be no re-draws, nor any change requests entertained—" Hen said, as a few nervous murmurs spread across the room.
"If you're the only challenger for a slot, congratulations—you fight the team member directly.
Win against him/her, and the spot on Rodova's Circuit Team is yours."
"But if multiple cadets challenged the same team member… you'll fight each other first. Elimination style.
With only one of you finally getting the right to face the team member."
He paused, scanning the room.
"So those of you who purposefully picked the easiest opponent to dethrone, understand that there might be many more who shared your mindset and you're now stuck in a long and drawn out elimination battle before you can even challenge the team member.
While those of you who challenged an opponent above your weight class…. Congratulations, you now have a date with the devil—." Hen said, as listening to his speech, a voice from the back immediately grumbled, "Shuckzzz, I should've picked someone obscure… I knew Enzo would get dogpiled…"
Another cadet hissed, "Please… just let me avoid Leo or Yang in my pool. Anyone else, I'll manage…"
There were no safe bets. Going for the weakest meant a free-for-all bloodbath.
While going for the strongest meant likely defeat—but fewer steps to get there.
And now, the choices were final.
—---------
In a separate corridor, the ten current Circuit Team members waited.
Suited up. Silent.
Their armor gleamed beneath the dome lights—but there was no pride in their posture. Just tension.
Because for them, this wasn't about glory.
It was about survival.
One bad fight, one unlucky draw, and it all ended. A year of sacrifice, training, politics, and practice—erased.
'This is bullshit,' one of them thought, flexing his jaw behind his faceguard. 'I fought in five prep matches. I led drills. I missed classes to prepare for these circuits…'
'And now some first-year punk gets to kick me off the team because he had a lucky growth spurt?'
They hated the system. But they couldn't deny it.
Rodova didn't care who you were yesterday. It only cared who you were today.
And although they hated to admit it, right now most of the team members were just praying they did not draw Leo or Su Yang against themselves.
—---------
(Rodova Combat Dome – Internal Warm-Up Zone)
Away from the crowd, in a private warm-up alcove, Leo exhaled slowly as he rolled his neck, each movement precise and measured.
Beside him, Mu Shen sat with both blades across his lap, eyes closed, meditating. While Su Yang stood against the wall, rotating his shoulder, lips pressed into a thin line.
They didn't speak.
They didn't need to.
Leo hadn't bothered checking brackets. He already knew who he was going for. His fists clenched softly as mana rippled beneath the surface of his skin.
'It's time I redeem myself.'
Power hummed inside him—tighter, denser, cleaner than it had ever been.
'I'll match him punch for punch today… No tricks. No techniques. Just raw force.'
A faint smile touched his lips as his eyes gleamed.
For the first time in months, he was looking forward to a fight.
—---------
Su Yang, meanwhile, wasn't thinking about the circuits. Or the team. Or even the tournament.
He was thinking about her.
Minerva.
The one opponent who had beaten him. Publicly. Brutally.
Today wasn't about proving himself to the academy. It was about proving something to himself.
Everyone had told him not to do it. That going against Minerva was stupid. That if he faced anyone else, he'd cruise to victory.
But Yang wasn't looking for an easy win.
He was looking for redemption.
Even if his actions risked damaging Rodova's strongest-ever circuit lineup—even if it meant only three Grandmasters might make it through instead of four—he didn't care.
This wasn't about the academy. This wasn't about strategy.
This was personal.
And win or lose, Su Yang had no intention of leaving that arena without the answer he seeked.
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 147 147: PoliticsTimeless AssassinC147 147: Politics
The brackets on the massive arena display board began to populate, each name appearing with an agonizing slowness—until finally, after what felt like a nervous eternity, the full roster was complete.
1) Yu Shen (C) – 0 challengers
2) Khyaal (VC) – 3 challengers
3) Minerva – 2 challengers
4) Jude – 7 challengers
.
.
.
10) Enzo – 93 challengers
The bracket display on the arena's massive holoboard finally locked in, illuminating the room as the matchups beneath each team member began auto-populating into cascading sub-brackets.
Almost immediately, every cadet's eyes darted to three names.
The first was their own—just to confirm they were seeded under the team member they had selected.
The other two?
Leo Skyshard and Su Yang.
"Holy shit…" someone muttered. "Skyshard went after Vice-Captain Khyaal?"
"No way—really? That's a ballsy move. Khyaal's only a Master, but people say he's this close to a breakthrough."
"Ballsy move my ass," another voice scoffed. "Even the weakest Grandmaster folds the strongest Master. This isn't a fight—it's an execution. Poor Khyaal… guy's getting cooked over a grudge."
"Speaking of grudges," someone chimed in. "Look at Su Yang! He went after Fazim instead of Minerva. Guess all that talk about revenge was just that—talk."
"Nooooo, man!" another cadet groaned. "Fazim's the guy I picked! Why the hell did Su Yang have to go for him?"
"Dude, are you serious?" someone else replied with a laugh. "You really thought a Grandmaster would challenge another Grandmaster during selections? This isn't a deathmatch. Of course he's going to stomp someone else and secure his spot first."
Chatter rippled through the crowd as the implications sank in.
Leo going after Khyaal wasn't a complete surprise—rumors of their revenge scuffle had been spreading for months—but Yang choosing Fazim over Minerva?
That raised a few eyebrows.
As many felt convinced that Su Yang was the petty type that was going to choose personal vindication over greater good.
—----------
"What the hell—?!" Su Yang barked, eyes glued to the bracket board as his voice echoed with fury. His outburst snapped Leo and Mu Shen's attention instantly, both turning to glance at him with raised brows.
"I clearly selected Minerva, not Fazim," Su Yang growled, fists clenched as his tone edged toward outrage. "Someone's messed with my bracket!"
Without another word, he stormed out of the warm-up zone and onto the arena floor, his footsteps thundering as he marched into the center of the stage and pointed an accusing finger toward the officials' platform.
"Don't screw with me, Hen!" he shouted, voice raw. "I didn't pick Fazim and you know it! You know it!"
A hush fell over the arena as eyes turned toward Major Hen, who remained unmoved, arms folded across his chest as he stared down at Su Yang from the officiating stand.
"That's enough, boy," Hen said coldly. "No one but the Principal has the authority to alter brackets once selections are made. So unless you're accusing Principal Alric of tampering with your entry, you're wasting everyone's time."
All heads turned as one toward the VIP box—where Principal Alric sat calmly beside the top sponsors and other influential merchant group owners, sipping champagne as if he hadn't heard a word.
He didn't even flinch, didn't even glance Su Yang's way under the accusation, as the silence that followed simply felt suffocating.
Su Yang's breath caught in his throat as he realized—there was no proof. No logs he could show. No records of his original selection.
Just his word… against Rodova's system.
And to the rest of the academy, it already looked like he was trying to backpedal—like the guy who picked an easy opponent and was now throwing a tantrum to save face.
Hen's voice snapped again.
"As I said—no changes will be made."
"Maybe your finger slipped when making your pick. Or maybe you just regret the coward's choice you made. Either way, you're fighting Fazim."
"You can either throw the match… or suck it up and fight. The choice is yours—" Hen said, issuing the ultimatum.
As Su Yang stood frozen for a moment, chest rising and falling rapidly, teeth clenched so hard it felt like they'd crack.
'Fuckers—' He cursed under his breath. However, said nothing more, as he turned and walked off the arena floor, jaw tight with frustration.
He knew exactly what had happened.
Alric's eyes—cold and calculating—had said it all.
This wasn't an accident.
Alric had made the call.
He didn't want two of his best fighters eliminating each other before the real circuits began.
And so, without so much as a conversation, Su Yang's redemption had been stolen from him. Rewritten.
Now, he'd be fighting Fazim.
And all he could do was accept it.
—--------
From across the arena, if there was one man who gave Alric a nod of genuine appreciation, it was Yu Shen.
The captain of the circuits team was the only individual with 0 challenges to his name, as his reputation as Rodova's strongest was enough to deter any and all competitors.
'Su Yang you fool…. The circuits are bigger than just your petty revenge.
I know you're mad today. But I'll give you your chance to fight Minerva fair and square in training….. but I need you both on my team if we are to win—' Yu Shen thought, as he didn't doubt that Su Yang had chosen Minerva as his opponent, however, felt glad that Alric had intervened.
*Unbuckle—*
*Unbuckle—*
Unbuckling his gear, Yu Shen stripped down to just his usual Rodova uniform, as being scheduled to fight no opponents today, he no longer needed the armor.
Instead, he lazily stretched and began walking towards the first year warm-up area, as there were a couple things he wished to discuss with Su Yang and Leo before the fight.
Things, that were important for their future in the circuits.
—-------------
An eerie silence swept through the first-year warm-up room the moment Yu Shen stepped inside.
As for a brief second, every student paused, their eyes lighting up with a mix of hope and curiosity—wondering if the captain had come to offer some last-minute words of motivation before the matches began.
But that hope quickly faded.
As soon as they noticed his gaze locked straight ahead—unmoving, razor-focused on the two figures stretching quietly in the far corner— as they collectively understood.
He hadn't come for them.
He was here for Leo and Su Yang.
A few cadets sighed under their breath, shoulders slumping slightly as the excitement drained from the room.
"Yang. Skyshard," Yu Shen greeted as he approached, his voice calm and composed.
Mu Shen glanced up from his seated position nearby and let out a quiet cough, tapping a finger to his chest.
Yu Shen blinked, realizing the oversight. "Shen," he added with a nod.
Mu Shen gave a tight smile in return, then stood and quietly stepped away—understanding this conversation wasn't meant for three.
As soon as he was gone, Yu Shen lowered his voice.
"Some of the merchant guild reps sitting in the stands today aren't here to cheer Rodova," he said, glancing toward the observation balconies above. "They've already got teams—some from Geneva, some from Barakiel. They're here to scout. To study. To prepare"
He didn't need to elaborate further.
"They're not looking at the team," he continued. "They're looking at you two."
Yu Shen folded his arms, his tone firm.
"So unless it's absolutely necessary—don't show them anything."
"Win with the bare minimum. No showboating. No exotic combinations. Keep your skill sets hidden for as long as possible."
He didn't bother mentioning whether Leo or Su Yang would make it through today's selection.
Because in his mind, it wasn't even a question.
Their spots were already guaranteed.
However, he wanted them to reveal nothing, so that Rodova walked into the circuits with an element of mystery about themselves, as both Su Yang and Leo nodded in understanding.
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 148 148: A strong showingTimeless AssassinC148 148: A strong showing
(Rodova Military Academy – Circuit Team Selection Day)
The elimination matches began shortly after Yu Shen left the first-year warm-up room, as the academy's military punctuality demanded that the first fight start precisely at 8:00 a.m., neither a second early nor late.
The opening bout saw a wide-eyed first-year step nervously into the ring against a seasoned second-year, as the disparity in skill became obvious the moment the bell rang.
It wasn't even close, as the junior's dream of making it to the circuit team—or at least putting up a respectable fight to secure a summer camp recommendation—was crushed within forty seconds.
"Winner, 2nd-year cadet, Lu Jiang," the referee called out flatly, as the next match began without even a pause, the event unfolding with mechanical efficiency.
For the first hour, matches proceeded smoothly, as donors, sponsors, and merchant representatives enjoyed the spectacle from the observation decks. The rules capped each fight at two and a half minutes, as judges only interfered when neither fighter could secure a win within the limit.
Yet, rarely did anyone need a judge's call, as most bouts ended well before the timer expired.
For a while, the competition advanced without surprises, as cadets conserved their energy while slowly climbing through the brackets. However, once the pools were distilled down to the final ten contenders, the tension visibly rose, as desperation began bleeding into every strike.
"If Mu Shen somehow makes it into the top four," Su Yang said, casually stretching as he spoke to Leo, "he'll probably get that summer camp recommendation next year."
Leo gave a quiet nod, as both knew that it was easier said than done.
"But making it all the way? Not likely," Su Yang added as he gestured towards the arena. "Lu Jiang's too solid."
Mu Shen, having targeted Enzo for his challenge, now found himself grinding through match after match, as he advanced past four opponents already, battling against a sea of cadets who had also chosen Enzo, the perceived weakest of the circuit team.
However, despite the odds stacked against him, Mu Shen went as far as the final two, where he faced off against Lu Jiang—a second-year whose endurance and refined techniques gave him the edge.
As in the end, despite his commendable grit, the final outcome was all but sealed, with him falling just short of challenging a team member.
Yet, it was an admirable effort nonetheless, as both Leo and Su Yang silently acknowledged that Mu Shen had all but secured a future invitation to next year's summer camp.
As Mu Shen returned to the warm-up area, wiping the sweat from his brow, he couldn't help but sigh in defeat.
"Aghh, what a drag, guys," he said, forcing a smile. "I did my best, but I guess I won't be standing beside you two this year."
"That's alright," Su Yang replied with a smirk, placing a reassuring hand on Mu Shen's shoulder. "You're my vice-captain next year anyway. Skyshard can go finger his own ass."
Leo raised an eyebrow at the unexpected jab but said nothing, as he simply gave Mu Shen a small nod, acknowledging the valiant effort.
Then—-
In the most anticipated bout of the early morning, Enzo faced off against Lu Jiang, the winner of the brackets, as the first Circuit Team spot came into play.
However, as expected, Enzo, the actual circuit team member, easily retained his spot, as Lu Jiang failed to even graze him—highlighting to all watching just how vast the gap was between those on the team and the common academy cadets.
—--------
(10:15 AM — Rodova Combat Dome)
It was around 10:15 AM when an assistant referee finally stepped into the first-year warm-up room, clipboard in hand, calling out, "Su Yang! You're up in fifteen."
Su Yang, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, slowly opened his eyes as he pushed off and began to stretch, each motion deliberate and controlled, as he mentally prepared for his bout.
There were a total of 12 fighters who had challenged Faizan for his spot, giving a few a by-pass from the first round of fights.
And luckily, Su Yang was one of them.
He only had to fight three rounds instead of four to face Faizan, however, he did not really care about the by-pass anyways.
*Crack*
*Crack*
Cracking his knuckles, Su Yang grinned rather evilly, as he seemed like he was in one of his foulest moods, where his frustrations were about to come out on innocent opponents.
"I'll crush them all without using a single technique," Su Yang said calmly, his voice laced with quiet irritation as the earlier bracket incident still lingered in his mind. "Bare hands will be enough."
The cadets near him stiffened, as none dared to doubt him, as his words didn't carry the air of arrogance—but the certainty of someone fully capable of carrying out the claim.
With nothing more to say, Su Yang stepped into the staging area as the assistant quickly led him toward the ring.
—------------
(First Match – Against Cadet Harth, 1st Year)
The bell for Su Yang's first match rang, as the arena was met with mild curiosity from the crowd, given that Su Yang's first opponent was none other than Harth—a fellow first-year, known for being decent but far from remarkable.
Yet the moment Su Yang's golden eyes locked onto Harth's, the crowd realized this wouldn't even be a slight contest as the junior began to tremble uncontrollably.
[Domination]
Su Yang's innate bloodline trait seemed to oppress the hell out of Harth who could not handle the pressure, as the poor guy struggled to make his legs co-operate with his brain, his composure shattering like a glass beneath pressure.
*DING—*
The match officially began, yet Su Yang didn't even bother to raise his fists, as he simply walked forward, shoulders relaxed, expression unreadable.
"Move," Su Yang said calmly as Harth's instincts screamed at him to run, but his body betrayed him, as terror rooted him to the spot.
He tried to swing, desperate for any semblance of control—but the blade was caught between Su Yang's bare fingers effortlessly, as if swatting away a branch.
Before anyone could react, Su Yang delivered a casual palm strike to Harth's chest, sending him airborne as he crashed out of the ring like a ragdoll.
Thud
"First match, Su Yang advances," the referee declared after a stunned pause.
As the audience erupted—at the unbelievably dominating performance.
—-------------
(Second Match – Against Cade, 2nd Year)
Su Yang's next opponent was Cade, a hardened second-year who clenched his fists tightly as he tried to mask his nerves beneath a facade of forced bravado.
"You won't toss me around like that last kid," Cade said, stepping into the ring with flaring aura, as he entered a cautious stance.
Su Yang said nothing, as he simply adjusted his shoulders while raising his fists to waist level, his stance as relaxed as if he were simply preparing to go for a walk.
*DING—-*
Cade charged in, unleashing a barrage of tightly packed punches, each targeting Su Yang's weak points with practiced precision.
However, Su Yang merely shifted.
Each movement was minimal, as he slipped past Cade's attacks without wasting a single motion, his head tilting by mere inches, his feet barely stepping.
Frustration seeped into Cade's strikes, as desperation replaced technique, as Su Yang, without so much as blinking, caught the senior's extended wrist, twisted it, and slammed Cade headfirst into the dirt.
*BOOM*
Cade didn't even attempt to rise.
"Second match, Su Yang advances," the referee announced, eyes wide.
—-------------
(Third Match – Against Vega, 2nd Year)
Vega, Su Yang's final challenger before Fazim, looked visibly shaken as he stepped into the ring against Su Yang.
His earlier cocky grin from previous hours was nowhere to be found, as his aura flickered uncertainly.
"You think you're better than us just because you got lucky and became Grandmaster?" Vega growled, forcing himself to sound intimidating. "Breaking through doesn't make you invincible!"
Su Yang's gaze didn't waver, as he simply rolled his shoulders and raised his fists.
*DING—*
Vega wasted no time as he activated his skill—[Twenty Tilted Slashes]—filling the air with dozens of sharp strikes, as he attempted to overwhelm Su Yang with sheer speed and aggression.
However, Su Yang moved like water.
His feet shifted precisely, as his body leaned and rotated effortlessly, as every blade narrowly missed by fractions of an inch, as if Vega's entire skill had been read like an open book.
And then, it ended.
Su Yang caught Vega's blade mid-swing with his bare hand, twisted his opponent's stance open, and drove his palm directly into Vega's solar plexus.
*CRACK*
Vega's knees buckled, as air fled from his lungs.
A second later, Su Yang delivered a light shove, as Vega stumbled backward and collapsed outside the ring.
"Third match, Su Yang advances," the referee called, almost sounding tired of repeating himself.
As the arena erupted in cheers over Su Yang's performance once again, with Su Yang lightly waving to the crowd as he stepped out of the arena, with not so much as a slight change to his angry expression.
He hadn't used a single skill.
He hadn't drawn a single weapon.
And yet, he had humiliated three opponents with nothing but his bare hands, leaving the watching cadets speechless.
Even the sponsors exchanged glances, murmuring quietly, as for the first time today, some realized—
This year's Rodova team might just be more terrifying than what the rumors had them believing.
They had come here today expecting to check out the rumors of Rodova having two new Grandmaster students, however, with how dominating Su Yang was, they didn't even get a gauge on his true strength.
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 149 149: AcknowledgementTimeless AssassinC149 149: Acknowledgement
(Rodova Military Academy, Spectator Stand, The VIP Box)
Principal Alric sat leisurely, swirling his glass of champagne as the murmurs of the merchant groups and sponsors around him flooded the private gallery.
His eyes flicked lazily across their expressions— widened eyes, whispered exchanges, and barely contained intrigue.
As he couldn't help but scoff internally, his contempt masked behind a calm facade.
"We thought Clarence Academy was going to usurp Rodova and steal the number two spot this year," murmured one representative from the Silvergrain Syndicate, stroking his beard. "But seeing this... Rodova still has teeth."
"Su Yang, the Su Family's young master," another whispered. "Why did he enroll into Rodova? Why not Geneva? With talent like that, Geneva would've rolled out the red carpet for him."
A third, sharper voice then cut in, belonging to the Gray Metal Consortium's representative.
"Geneva's loss is our opportunity. From what I hear, the Su Family hasn't tied him to any sponsors yet. Perhaps we can rope him in early… the way he fights, he'll be the team captain by next year and worth a lot of money."
Alric chuckled quietly to himself as he took a sip.
'Vultures… all of you. Like hell I'll let you sponsor Su Yang for cheap now'
Yet not every face shared the excitement.
The Horizon Merchant Group's representative sat stiffly, arms crossed, eyes narrowed with clear dissatisfaction.
The Horizon group, who had shifted allegiance from Rodova to Clarence Academy earlier this year, now looked like they had bet on the wrong horse, as Rodova seemed to be on the road to resurgence.
Alric noticed the sour expression and immediately smiled in satisfaction, as he found the horizon group's misery to be delightful.
'Regretting the switch now, aren't you?' He thought, as he let out yet another amused chuckle.
—-----------
Meanwhile in the general viewing stands, amongst the non participating cadet population, the chatter was just as animated.
"Faizan's doomed."
"There's no way he holds onto his spot."
"An archer against Su Yang? And not even a good one like Minerva? He's finished."
"They should've just handed Su Yang the spot without wasting Faizan's time."
Although a few optimistic voices tried to defend Faizan's chances, the general sentiment was that the senior was about to be crushed.
Faizan was good. But Su Yang was something else.
And everyone knew it.
—-----------
(Combat Arena – Center Stage)
Faizan stood at the ready, bow in hand, breathing measured but betraying subtle nerves as he stared down Su Yang, who was now walking onto the stage with the same lazy composure he had displayed all morning.
Su Yang's blade hung loosely at his side, as if it weren't even part of the fight yet, as just like his previous fights, he did not draw out his weapon this time either, which caused the audience to let out a few nervous gasps.
"So arrogant that you won't even pull out your weapon? Do I look that weak in your eyes?" Faizan asked, as Su Yang shook his head in denial.
"It's not about you being weak. Which you are no doubt, but it's just that I don't want to reveal my swordsmanship to the universe just yet.
So I'll he holding that card close to my chest for now—" Su Yang replied, as Faizan grit his teeth in anger.
*DING—*
The match began as Faizan's bow snapped upward immediately, his eyes sharp with focus as he activated his signature skill— [Phantom Quiver],
causing five semi-transparent spectral arrows to materialize mid-air beside him.
Without hesitation, he fired the first volley, launching three arrows in rapid succession as each one curving unnaturally mid-flight, as they arched toward Su Yang's limbs.
*SWOOSH*
*SWOOSH*
*SWOOSH*
With precise footwork, Su Yang sidestepped the arrows by mere inches, letting them whistle harmlessly past, as the entire crowd tensed at his calm and precise evasion.
Faizan gritted his teeth as he immediately backed away while knocking another arrow, this time channeling mana heavily as he activated his second technique —
[Rain of Binding].
A barrage of mana-imbued arrows exploded outward from Faizan's position, filling the arena with dozens of arrows that blurred into a net-like formation, threatening to completely trap Su Yang.
Cheers erupted from the spectators as the trap looked flawless.
But Su Yang's eyes remained steady.
"Predictable," he muttered under his breath, as he raised his hand and activated [Flowing Steps],
a mobility technique that allowed his body to shift like a flowing current, seamlessly weaving between the incoming arrows with delicate but blindingly fast footwork.
Each step was impossibly smooth, and each movement reduced the chaos of the arrow net into mere background noise, as he carved a path straight toward Faizan.
Faizan's eyes widened as he hurriedly activated his trump card —
[Piercing Luna] —
an arrow condensed with nearly all of his remaining mana, glowing silver as it promised devastating penetration.
He drew it back fully, aiming for Su Yang's navel, as the tension in the arena peaked.
Yet Su Yang didn't even blink.
With one swift step, he entered striking range, as he tightly gripped his sword—not to swing—but to feint and instead activate [Iron Breaker Palm].
As while his opponent expected a sword slash, Su Yang's real intention was to unleash a martial skill designed to collapse an opponent's guard with a single blow.
*Boom*
Su Yang's palm collided with Faizan's chest the moment before the arrow was loosed, as–
*CRACK!*
The arrow fired wildly into the air as Faizan's entire frame was lifted off the ground, crashing against the arena floor as his bow snapped in half beneath him.
*THUD–*
Faizan coughed violently as the referee rushed forward, to prevent Su Yang from injuring Faizan even more, as he threw his body between the two contestants.
"Match Over! Winner—Su Yang!"
The referee declared, as the crowd exploded into shouts and applause, not just because of Su Yang's overwhelming victory, but due to the perfect suppression of Faizan's every trick.
Sponsors exchanged hurried whispers, noting each of Su Yang's moves displayed today with wary interest, as the fact that he didn't even need to draw his sword raised some major concerns.
Su Yang, meanwhile, sheathed his half drawn blade without a word, as he calmly turned his back to the fallen archer and walked toward the waiting area as if nothing had happened, as Major Hen from the professor stands took up a microphone and announced to whole academy that Su Yang, a first year, had replaced Faizan to officially become a part of the Rodova Circuits Team!
And that he shall represent the academy at the Interstellar Circuits this year.
"SU YANG! SU YANG! SU YANG!"
Chants of his name rang throughout the arena, as he seemed to become a role model for all first years once again…. The stain of his previous defeat diluting, as even his haters could not help but admit to his dominance.
It wasn't the showing that he wanted for today, as his goal was to fight Minerva.
However, it was a showing he could be proud of, as from start to finish he did not even break a sweat, scoring convincing victories over all his opponents, as he should with a tier difference.
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Show menu Novel BinNovel Timeless Assassin Chapter 150 150: DominanceTimeless AssassinC150 150: Dominance
A couple of hours after Su Yang had punched his name onto the Circuits Team roster, it was finally Leo's turn to step into the spotlight.
Other than him, two others had challenged Vice-Captain Khyaal for his coveted spot. Yet, thanks to a stroke of luck, Leo had bypassed the first bout, allowing the two seniors to eliminate each other first.
Now, only one stood in his way—the winner of the earlier clash—before he could face Khyaal himself.
*CHEERS*
Deafening cheers could be heard from the crowd as Leo walked into the arena, as the spectators and the VIP's got excited for Rodova's second hidden talent.
"There he is! Leo Skyshard in the flesh!"
"So that's the rumored speed specialist…"
"Is he really that good? I mean, Su Yang's strength makes sense when you look at his body, but Skyshard looks lanky and frail."
"Don't be stupid. Rumor says he left a nasty dagger slash against the chin of previous year team Captain during one of his training spars….. and he wasn't even a Grandmaster at that point."
The crowd chattered, as after Su Yang's dominant performance, expectations regarding Leo's fight also seemed to be high.
'Remember to not reveal too much. The less the better—' Leo reminded himself as he stepped onto the arena, as his gray eyes, glowing faintly, scanned the opponent standing across from him.
His opponent, a second-year named Viran, looked tense as he readied his longsword, he visibly gulped when Leo made eye contact with him, as he seemed to be aware of Leo's ruthless reputation, but still seemed to be hoping to pull off an upset.
"All the best…. You'll need the luck–" Leo said coldly before the fight began, as he loosely pulled out two daggers from his utility belt and assumed his usual fighting stance.
*DING—*
The match officially began.
Yet Leo did not rush forward.
He knew he had the upper hand here, and that the opponent would try to charge first to not let him gain rhythm, which was why he patiently waited for Viran to come at him.
"HAAA!!!"
Viran screamed while rushing, as he activated the skill [Piercing Fang]— which was a straight-line thrust skill meant to capitalize on reach.
But Leo's eyes didn't even flinch as he sidestepped at the last second, slipping past the strike's edge with surgical precision as he allowed the attack to barely graze his uniform.
"Fast!" someone in the crowd gasped.
"Wait, am I tripping or did I see afterimages of his movement for a second?" Another added, as with a short pivot, Leo's right dagger slashed upward, deflecting Viran's blade mid-air before his left dagger found its way cleanly into Viran's shoulder guard—not deep enough to cripple, but more than enough to send him staggering backward.
"KYAAA—"
The man screamed from pain, as he slashed wildly to push Leo back.
However, Leo's footwork, guided by [Absolute Vision], kept him always a hair's breadth away from danger, while the calm brought to his psyche by [Monarch's Indifference] helped him dissect every subtle movement of his opponent's sword and body.
*Huff–*
*Huff–*
Viran, now pale, activated [Steel Barrage], a flurry of slashes designed to overwhelm. Yet Leo, calm as still water, weaved between every strike, leaving afterimages as he moved.
And then, with one clean diagonal cross-cut from both daggers, Leo disarmed him entirely—sending Viran's sword clattering to the ground, as he followed it up with a second dagger pointed to his neck.
"W-Winner, Leo Skyshard advances!" The referee declared in a rush, as he pushed Leo away from his opponent.
*CHEERS*
The audience broke into a mixture of gasps and applause, as most held their foreheads in disbelief with how fast and clean Leo's fighting style looked.
"He didn't even activate an offensive technique."
"That was all footwork and reading—no actual skills except for reaction buffs."
"He's terrifying…"
The audience reacted, as Leo quietly returned to his corner, preparing for the next challenge, which was his revenge bout against Khyaal.
—---------
Leo was called back onto the main stage not even five minutes after his previous bout had ended, as Khyaal stood already waiting for him at the center of the arena, his massive greatsword slung casually over his shoulders.
The difference in their presence was palpable.
Khyaal, though visibly calm, carried the demeanor of a man who had accepted the reality of the difficult duel before it even began, while Leo eyed him like a predator looking for revenge.
There was no animosity between the two.
No personal hatred.
However, the circumstances surrounding their bout, made it so that both felt their energy levels raised higher than usual.
Leo seeked redemption.
While Khyaal wanted to hold onto his circuit's spot.
And hence neither was willing to back down from the initial gaze-off.
"You know…" Khyaal started, his voice carrying smoothly through the arena, "I had a feeling we'd meet again ever since our first bout ended."
The audience quieted as his words echoed.
"And I knew… I knew that, because of your talent, you would surpass me by the time that day came." He let out a self-deprecating chuckle as he lowered his sword to his side. "Some nights, that thought stole my sleep. Other nights, it pushed me to work harder."
Khyaal's grip tightened slightly.
"This past year… it was probably the fear of fighting you again that drove me to the very brink of becoming a Grandmaster. I tried everything—but it wasn't enough."
He took a deep breath and, without any trace of bitterness, smiled.
"That being said, you did your best when we first fought and took my arm off. So I intend to do the same today."
He pointed his blade directly at Leo.
"This time, I'll return the favor."
Leo, seeing no hesitation or fear in Khyaal's eyes, couldn't help but crack a small grin.
"Do your best," Leo said softly as
*DING—*
The match began.
For a few tense seconds, neither moved, as the entire crowd leaned forward in anticipation.
Khyaal activated [Iron Rampart], a defensive stance skill that bolstered his guard, as mana surged around his body, visibly reinforcing his greatsword.
But Leo did not hesitate.
In a single motion, his footwork blurred, closing the distance with ruthless precision as he activated [Parallel Processing] and became a streak of speed and movement unlike anything Khyaal could have ever expected.
*SHHK—*
Before Khyaal could even react, Leo's dagger slipped cleanly past the raised guard, piercing through a gap in the armor—its tip pressed firmly against the cloth over Khyaal's heart, as from start to finish, Khyaal never even saw him moving.
Khyaal's eyes widened—not from pain—but from disbelief.
He never even got the chance to swing.
Never even got to carry out the elaborate plan he had made to fight against Leo, as in the end, the difference between them was as wide as night and day.
"Huh?"
For a second, the referee hesitated, stunned by the speed himself, before suddenly snapping to his senses as he called the winner of the match.
"Winner—Leo Skyshard!"
*ROOOOAAAAAR—-*
The arena erupted.
As Khyaal blinked, then… chuckled bitterly.
"Well… I thought I was ready for you, but I guess I was just being a delusional fool," he muttered as he stepped back and dropped to one knee, surrendering the spot.
As Leo raised his fist in the air, in a triumphant display of his supremacy.
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