Timeless Assassin

(Planet Juxta, Charles's POV)

Simultaneously, while Leo and Veyr fought on Planet Nemo, a tense situation started to arise back home on Juxta, as suddenly the skies outside the planet observed unprecedented troop buildup, as thousands upon thousands of enemy Destroyer ships crowded the sky.

"All men to arms! Raise the alarms!"

"All men to arms, enemy attack imminent!"

The Cult soldiers shouted, their voices echoing across the base as sirens wailed, the sound sharp enough to rattle glass panes across the city.

*Alarm Bells*

*Officers Shouting Orders*

Charles sat on the steps outside the command post, a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips, as he lazily gazed upward toward the heavens.

Above, the darkness of space shimmered faintly, lit by the silhouettes of countless enemy hulls that now blotted out the stars, as he couldn't help but chuckle at their audacity to try and attack Juxta.

'Motherfuckers….'

He thought, as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke, utterly unbothered by the panic breaking out around him.

With Soron no longer within the Cult, and the Dragon's Army out conquering Nemo, he was now on his own.

And after assessing the situation, he realized that there wasn't much he could do about this unexpected enemy attack, but to try to thwart it with his full strength.

"Put out an SOS," He said calmly to a Lieutenant before him, who jotted his words down with sincerity.

"It's not that serious son, just let Leo and Veyr know that Juxta is under attack…"

He instructed, before stubbing his cigarette against the steel railing, as the ember died in a hiss.

*Crack*

*Crack*

Cracking his neck, Charles rose, his boots heavy against the metal walkway as he began to stroll through the panicked base.

All around him, soldiers scrambled into positions with well-drilled efficiency.

Mana bombs were distributed from armories, artillery crews rushed to their stations, and battalion leaders barked orders into comm-stones, their voices barely holding together the rising tide of fear.

Juxta had seen many military build-ups outside their skies over the years, however, this had to be the largest assault they had come under in at least the past 400 years.

*THRUMMM*

*GRRRRR*

The thrum of anti-air arrays activating filled the military base, as towers of crystal-powered cannons swiveled upward toward the crowded skies.

Meanwhile, in the civilian districts, shutters slammed shut with metallic bangs.

Merchants hurried to roll down iron grates over their storefronts, while mothers dragged children inside homes, bolts sliding into place, and prayers starting to be whispered in hushed tones.

Streets that only hours ago bustled with trade and laughter now lay empty, silent but for the tremors of distant marching boots.

The atmosphere was suffocating—an entire planet holding its breath, waiting for the storm to finally break.

—------------

(Meanwhile, Entrail's POV)

From the safety of orbit, Commander Entrail stood with hands clasped behind his back, his polished boots gleaming under the cockpit lights of the command deck.

Ahead, the view-screen displayed Planet Juxta in all its blue-green brilliance, its skies already swarming with anti-aircraft balloon mines that the enemy had deployed.

"Commander Streak," he said smoothly, his gentlemanly tone impeccable as he turned to his silent counterpart, who studied a tactical slate.

"As per Lord Mauriss's directions, we are to wait outside the skies of Juxta for one hour, and see if Soron comes out to threaten us.

If he does, we must pull back, but if he does not intervene here, we are free to attack—"

He reminded, as Streak nodded calmly.

Just like the commoners of Juxta who prayed for their side to win this fight, Entrail and Streak prayed too, albeit for a different cause, as their prayers were for Soron to not show up.

*Tick* *Tick*

As the minutes dragged, the silence of space began to feel louder than thunder to them, as they found themselves unable to wait for the full one hour.

All around their central ship, the universal fleet held its position like a blade pressed just shy of enemy throat, as tens of thousands of Destroyers drifted in disciplined formation, their weapons primed, their engines humming faintly as if impatient for the slaughter to begin.

"So what do you think… will Soron show up?" Entrail finally asked, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he turned slightly toward his counterpart.

Streak lifted his gaze from the tactical slate, his expression unreadable, and gave a single shrug. "Well, he hasn't yet. So…"

Entrail chuckled under his breath, his grin widening as he glanced at the chrono watch before him, noting with satisfaction that twenty-five of the sixty-minute wait had already passed.

At this point each tick of the dial felt like a drumbeat pounding toward inevitability, and the absence of Soron made him giddy.

"If he doesn't show up… do you want to side bet on how long it takes us to blow apart Juxta's mana shield?" Entrail asked, his voice carrying a playful edge, like a gentleman making wagers over wine.

However, Streak took his time to reply, his gaze flicking back toward the display of Juxta's defense arrays, as he made some mental calculations.

"With our firepower, I'd say conservatively… three hours."

He wagered, as Entrail's grin sharpened.

"Three? Oh, my dear comrade, you wound me with such caution. I'll take the under two hours bet, thank you very much."

Entrail said, as Streak gave him a flat look, but raised his hand all the same, as the two commanders clasped forearms briefly, the shake sealing the wager in the quiet of the command deck.

*Clap*

After making the wager, Entrail turned back to the screen, his posture impatient, his lips twitching upward as he imagined the chaos soon to unfold.

"You see, that is what I love about war. To most, it is terror and ruin. But to men like us? It is art. A contest of wit, steel, and fire, painted across the canvas of the stars."

He said, as the minutes bled away, the chrono watch's hand creeping steadily onward, as Soron still did not show up.

"All units in formation, awaiting orders from the Commander."

His men said, once the one hour was up, as Entrail chuckled like a madman.

In the end, the legendary god did not show up to stop them today, and hence their assault was free to go on.

"Transmit to all ships," Entrail commanded, his voice a silken thread pulled taut.

"Prepare to open fire."