Milliseconds later, both figures appeared, one where the other had been, back-to-back.
Zhan smiled... but his smile suddenly broke.
Not because he felt sad... but literally.
His face was split in half. So were his arms. His sword. His chest. His abdon. His legs...
Zhan was split into 21 pieces and fell to the ground.
Maverick didn’t react. His daggers remained in his hand; he didn’t put them away. He simply whispered, "A Thousand Nights."
Revealing the na of his ability, the one that had taken him to the top of the world. Of his world.
Now "A Thousand Nights" had a new victim...
’I’ve grown,’ he thought, looking back in ti.
Who would have thought that he would ever be above the Cursed Face, Zhan? And with terrifying ease... he really had grown up.
"A Thousand Nights, huh. That’s a curious na for that skill." A voice echoed behind Maverick, making his hair stand on end.
He imdiately turned around and looked back, raising his daggers to his chest in one swift motion.
Then he saw a young man walking slowly beside Zhan. Blood from his victims still dripped from his hand, while three heads of the previous assassins lay scattered behind him.
"An incredible attack," Matthew said as he looked at Zhan’s body. "Why call it A Thousand Nights?"
Maverick was in shock. When did this guy get behind him?
Suddenly, he rembered the suspicions within the city’s ruling inner circle about this boy’s identity...
’It could be...’
Matthew understood his ntal questions, so he smiled and brought a hand to his face.
"Don’t be surprised. I’m just a traveler," he said, as the ultra-realistic mask he wore peeled away from his skin. "A simple traveler."
"You..."
"You still haven’t answered ." Matthew looked at the daggers and interrupted him. "Why Thousand Nights?"
Although Maverick had countless questions, when he looked at the dead assassins behind Matthew, he knew Matthew had already known what had happened here and had prevented the city from descending into chaos.
Therefore, he cald down, knowing they were not enemies. He lowered his daggers, though he still gripped them tightly, ready for action at any mont.
"Have you ever heard the na Sunlight, sir?"
"The most powerful Cursed Assassin in the world, right? They say his assassination tactics employ sunbeams."
"He used the sun to kill my family. I will use the night to destroy him. Thousand Nights was born on that desolate night, when a child saw a demon destroy his family."
Matthew nodded. "I see. So your shadow is the representation of Thousand Nights, huh?"
Understandable.
Although for Maverick, it was surprising that he knew.
"Do you know about our world, sir?" he asked carefully.
Matthew responded with a simple smile.
Suddenly, the cold of the night beca unbearable, leaving Maverick in shock.
’What’s with this cold?’ He shivered slightly...
"The World of Assassins, huh..."
Matthew’s voice echoed in the abandoned building, but specifically... in Maverick’s ears, who tensed up as he felt a terrifying presence behind him.
Suddenly, he felt as if a billion icy stakes were pointing at him, and he couldn’t escape. The world stopped for him.
"Of course, I know it. I know it very well. So well that... you’d be surprised."
"My na is Matthew Dietrich; I surely never had to know that world, because what for? What good is it for a Dietrich like to be an assassin? You are like specks of dust before all my power, regardless of whether you are damned or clean. That is why you serve those with our blood."
"But... in another life... in a life long ago... I was one of you, too."
His words stopped at that mont.
For a whole minute, he remained silent while, despite the cold, Maverick sweated.
"The Thousand Nights that represent your power and are perfectly united with your shadow are amazing, little assassin." Matthew couldn’t help but praise him.
"Back then, assassins like you and weren’t looking for the pinnacle. They didn’t even know that rumored pinnacle existed, the one that many now pride themselves on."
"But the universe knew who I was. My soul never forgot where it ca from. That’s why it allowed to have a peculiar power, little assassin. Do you want to know what it is?"
Matthew didn’t wait for Maverick to answer because he understood that right now, Maverick was scared to death but very interested.
So he spoke.
"Turn around," he said.
Although Maverick didn’t understand the reasons, he obeyed. Because he felt he would die if he didn’t. It was the first ti he had ever felt that way.
As he turned around, he expected to find countless ice stakes of different sizes pointing at him. He expected to see uncharted territory in assassination tactics, one from which he could not escape if he were the target.
But his expression changed when he looked behind him.
There were no billion ice stakes pointing at him or threatening him. There was simply a frozen world, the back of a lone man, and... a vision.
The vision of a splendid battle in another dinsion.
Ice against Ice.
A man of unfathomable power, who could be described as an "Emperor," looking down at a little assassin from a mountain... But it was the man of unfathomable power, with a broad body and sturdy bone structure, who felt fear of the little man below the mountain.
The battle was brutal; the little assassin received help to a certain extent, but from a certain point onwards, that "little assassin" demonstrated the magnificence of his ability.
The magnificence of ice abilities, capable of killing, that Maverick had never seen before.
Every movent, every breath, every particle... that "little assassin" controlled everything.
Even his opponent’s movents were perfectly controlled by that man who seed small but demonstrated the masterful greatness of a superior being.
With refined attacks clearly honed by decades of constant combat, the fight ultimately had only one winner.
It was only for a brief mont, when his daggers were stuck in the Ice Emperor’s chest, that the Ice Assassin turned to look... as if he knew soone was watching him.
His gaze frightened Maverick... he didn’t know if it was because he felt intimidated by the gaze of a legend... or because of his extraordinary resemblance to the man who was looking at the sa vision as him, but with his back to him.
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