Timeless Assassin

(Time Stilled World, Isolated Training Arena, Leo's POV)

*Thud*

Leo fell to his knees, the chains digging into his skin as his trembling hands clawed weakly at the ground.

For a moment, his mind could not register what had just happened….

The fight was over. Casio lay unconscious behind him, while the referee's voice had already faded into silence.

'One million wins….'

'One fucking million!!!!'

The words echoed faintly in his head, but they felt unreal—hollow, distant, like a dream he was too exhausted to believe.

His breath came in ragged bursts as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cold floor, the blindfold still clinging to his sweat-soaked skin.

Then, as though something inside him finally gave way, he began to laugh.

It started low—a weak, disbelieving chuckle that soon grew louder and deeper until it filled the entire chamber, reverberating off the metal walls. His voice cracked mid-laughter, turning into something halfway between joy and sorrow, triumph and regret.

"Hah… hahahahaha…!"

He tilted his head upward, still laughing through the tears that now streamed down his face. His shoulders shook violently, the chains clattering as he tugged against them with raw, unrestrained strength until—

*CLANK!*

The bindings shattered, fragments scattering like broken glass across the arena floor.

He slumped forward, his wrists finally free, his breath uneven. Yet for the first time in years, he didn't feel tired.

He felt free.

"Twenty-five years…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Twenty-five years for this moment…"

His aura flared suddenly, the air around him trembling as a surge of chaotic energy exploded from within.

It shimmered uncontrollably, shifting from blue to red, then back to blue, each hue burning brighter than the last until the entire chamber seemed to pulse with light.

He could feel it—the torrent of energy crashing through his circuits, trying to find balance, as with the bindings on his hands removed, his body channeled mana once more.

"Fuck this shit, I'm never fighting without a dagger in my hand ever again…"

He resolved, as his emotions, long buried under discipline and silence finally surfaced, flooding him all at once.

Anger. Pride. Grief. Joy.

Each emotion bled into the next, twisting inside him like molten glass as his aura spiraled higher, wrapping around him like a storm.

"I did it…" he said, half-laughing, half-sobbing. "I actually did it…"

He thought of his family—Amanda's gentle smile, Caleb's childish laughter, the promise he'd made to return to them soon enough, and felt like he could make it now.

That he would not fail to keep his word.

He thought of the countless nights of anxiety, the defeats that had crushed him, the endless rebuilds that had nearly broken his sanity.

And yet, he had kept going.

Every scar, every sleepless night, every ounce of pain—all of it had led him here, and now, he felt like he was finally free.

"REF! REFEREE!"

He demanded, as the match official came running into the arena, kneeling before him in reverence.

"Get the kid and yourself out of here, and reward the kid with a million MP.

He's a great fighter. Bright future.

Tell him that the Lord praised him when he wakes up."

Leo instructed, as the referee nodded and carried the unconscious Casio on his shoulders.

For a while, Leo steadied his breathing as he tried to bring his emotions under control, however, his joy at this moment seemed too large to contain, as no matter how hard he tried, the stupid grin refused to wipe off his face.

"Well… I guess it can't be helped."

He said eventually, as he stood up, removed the leg binds and the blindfold, before reaching into his storage ring for the [Emperor Suppression Manual].

"It's a joyous day, I hope the manual doesn't ruin the fun by presenting me with illegible jargon."

Leo prayed, as he flipped the book open, only for the pages to be instantly illuminated by purple text.

[Congratulations for completing the second stage of the Emperor Suppression Manual.

You are officially the youngest in history to reach this mark.]

The manual praised, as Leo raised a surprised eyebrow at the book's kind words.

It was unlike the manual to offer simple words of praise, however, Leo just took it to be his lucky day.

[However, although your achievement is extraordinary, your journey remains incomplete.

You have conquered one million foes without tasting defeat and have grasped the meaning of what it is to be an Emperor upon the battlefield.

You have learned that victory, for an Emperor, is not a matter of chance but of certainty—an inevitability born from absolute will.

You have understood that an Emperor's will is law, and his blade, the execution of that law.

Yet, what you still fail to command… is the fear that an Emperor must inspire.]

The text glowed brighter, its lines crisp and steady.

[No matter the number of enemies, their strength, or your condition, your defeat to one beneath your tier is now an impossibility.

You shall never be shamed by defeat to a junior again.

However, your killing intent is still not strong enough to snuff out the lives of millions with your will alone.]

Leo read on, his smile slowly fading, as the manual moved on from the irregular words of praise to its regular programming of passing down convoluted words of wisdom.

[Unfortunately, despite your unmatched streak and the powerful aura you now wield, your essence remains insufficient.

Your victories have forged control, but not fear. Power, but not terror.

You have conquered mortals, but not mortality itself, and hence your path to becoming a true Emperor remains incomplete!]

The book pulsed once more, and a final line appeared, burning blood-red against the page.

[Final Requirement for Ascension:

Indiscriminately slaughter two billion human souls to temper your killing intent and ascend beyond hesitation.

For only through the baptism of mass death will you temper your killing intent enough to make it worthy of the title of an Emperor.]

The manual instructed, as Leo froze, the words before him sinking into his consciousness like poison.

"…You've got to be kidding me."

He muttered, as he couldn't believe, that despite everything, he still needed to do more to advance to Monarch Tier.