Timeless Assassin

Chapter 935 I Have A Lord Father

(Within the Cult Medical Ship, The Pit, Leo’s POV)

Leo jolted awake.

His eyes snapped open first, sharp and alert, as his awareness surged outward instinctively, scanning for restraints, hostile presences, mana suppression fields, or any other forms of immediate danger….

However, there were none.

No chains bound his limbs, and no killing intent was directed his way, as the only thing amiss that he found with his body were the small electric shock wires wrapped around his fingers.

*Pluck*

*Throw*

Throwing those shock wires away, he drew in a slow breath before clenching and unclenching his fingers into a fist, as he confirmed that this was the real world and no longer a dreamscape.

“L-lord… you’re awake!”

The chief medical officer’s voice broke through his focus, sharp with disbelief and relief in equal measure, as Leo turned his head slightly to regard the man without speaking, his expression calm, composed, and already moving past the moment.

“How long was I out for?” Leo asked.

“Give me the exact time.”

The chief stiffened at once, instinctively straightening as he glanced down at the chronometer strapped to his wrist, eyes flicking rapidly as he performed some quick mental calculations.

“Five hours and forty-three minutes, my Lord.”

He answered, as Leo gave him a short nod of acknowledgement.

*Jump*

Jumping off the medical bed, Leo landed on the floor soundlessly, his body feeling well rested and ready for action, as he gave the doctors present in the room a grateful glance.

“Great Job everyone, keep it up….”

He praised before walking out of the room, as he rushed straight for the ship’s exit.

*Step*

*Step*

While walking, he quickly began warming up his muscles and joints, as he rolled his shoulders, and extended his arm outward to slowly pop the joints and get rid of the lingering stiffness in his body.

*Crack*

*Pop*

His hips followed, rotating in a controlled circle as he loosened the last traces of tightness left behind by forced recovery and prolonged unconsciousness, as he regained peak fitness.

‘If I was out for five hours and forty three minutes, then according to the schedule, the army should be about half-way through the third ring by now…’

He thought, as a small frown formed on his face.

According to his initial plan, he was meant to lead the Cult army through the enemy lines, however, Moltherak’s unfiltered aura had proven to be more than what he could handle, and hence he had no idea now as to how the battle was progressing at this moment.

‘I hope they haven’t fallen too far behind schedule….

He prayed, as he stepped towards the exit of the Medical Ship. *HISS*

The ramp of the medical ship hissed open as he approached, light spilling in from outside along with the distant roar of battle, as the sound of clashing forces rolled across the air in layered waves.

*Screams*

*Explosion*

*Metal ringing*

Leo stepped out with a calm expression on his face, as he began assessing the Cult Army’s current position.

‘Mmm… not bad.’

He thought, as to his pleasant surprise, the Cult Army had managed to reach the third ring even without him, yet unfortunately, they seemed to be clustered along its outer edge, formations compressed, momentum stalled as Transcendent-tier pressure pressed down from ahead, the Chakravyuh holding firm despite the carnage already inflicted.

‘Barely at the periphery, Leo assessed silently, eyes tracking the macro outlook of the war, as he let out a half-relieved sigh. ‘Sorry for the delay lads, Moltherak’s aura really did a number on

me…’

He thought, as he cracked his neck and unsheathed his daggers.

If he were a lesser man, he might have felt disappointed by the Cult Army currently being behind schedule, however, since he was not, he

only felt clarity.

‘Without me spearheading the advance,’ he thought, exhaling slowly,

‘it’s a miracle they’ve stayed this close to schedule at all!

He concluded, before activating [Enhance], as he jumped.

*CRACK*

*BOOM*

The ground beneath his feet cracked, and the air around him

unleashed a sonic boom, as he broke through the sound barrier and launched his body skyward in a single explosive motion aimed straight for the front line of the battlefield.

(Meanwhile Dumpy)

By pushing far beyond the role he was meant to play and plunging alone into a battlefield saturated with Transcendent-tier pressure, Dumpy had long since crossed the threshold where brute resilience alone was enough to carry him through untouched.

At first, the blows he felt were inconsequential.

Nothing more than glancing techniques that skidded off his hide or weapons that melted off before they could bite.

But as the minutes stretched on and the Transcendents adjusted, those glancing hits began landing with intent rather than desperation, layered attacks slipping through timed gaps, as coordinated pressure found purchase where chaos once reigned.

*Slash*

A blade scraped along his flank.

Shallow.

But real.

*BOOM*

Another strike caught his shoulder, tearing through skin rather than bouncing away, green blood spilling freely as it ran down his massive

arm and dripped into the ruined ground below.

More followed.

Small cuts.

Hairline gashes.

Impact bruises that throbbed beneath his skin.

Individually meaningless, and yet, together accumulating, as Dumpy

began to feel its effects.

‘It stings-‘

He thought, as he began to feel the slow erosion of his strength, his

body being forced to endure beyond its designed limits, as he felt his

breaths growing heavier and his movements to lose a fraction of their former explosiveness.

‘How long can I endure this?”

He wondered, as the enemy noticed his slow down as well.

“MEN! BE BRAVE AND CONTINUE ATTACKING!”

A Transcendent Lieutenant roared from behind the lines, his voice

amplified by mana and desperation alike.

“WE CAN CUT OFF THE BEAST’S LIMB SOON AT THIS RATE!”

Another voice joined in, louder, sharper.

“HE’S JUST ONE BEAST! WE ARE AN ARMY!”

“IF A HUNDRED HITS ARE NOT ENOUGH, THEN WE STRIKE HIM A

THOUSAND TIMES!”

Their shouts fed into one another, courage manufactured through

repetition as the Righteous soldiers pressed harder, formations tightening as confidence crept back into their ranks.

“THE CULT ARMY IS FINISHED THE MOMENT THE BIG GREEN

BEAST FALLS!”

“TAKE HIM DOWN, AND THIS WAR IS OURS!”

They believed it.

They needed to believe it.

As surrounded on all sides and battered by a storm of blades,

techniques, and compressed force, Dumpy listened to their voices while standing knee-deep in corpses, his skin marked by cuts and blood, yet his posture still remaining unbowed, as despite their serious threats, he still smiled an unbothered smile.

It was not a wide smile, nor a savage one.

It was just proud beyond belief.

As though, their words had no effect on his psyche whatsoever.

“You mongrels already had your chance to kill me,” Dumpy began calmly, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the battlefield despite the chaos.

“And you failed.

As things stand, I don’t believe you can kill me anymore..” He claimed boldly, as a relatively young Righteous soldier stepped

forward from the ranks, arrogance burning brighter than his caution as he leveled his weapon at Dumpy’s chest.

“Oh yeah?” the man sneered. “And why is that, beast?”

“Did you magically unlock immortality while we were busy cutting you down?”

He asked, as Dumpy’s smile only widened in response. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted one sword and pointed toward the sky

above the battlefield, where the air itself seemed to ripple. “No,” he said, pride thick in his voice. “I did not unlock immortality.”

His eyes gleamed.

“But I did unlock a Lord Father.”