Talent Awakening! Every Legendary Summon Grants Me Assassin Attributes Chapter 65: Oh so you can actually kill them, that’s a surpr

Oliver stood by the door for a few monts, unmoving, as though ti itself had slowed just for him. His eyes were locked onto his shadow, stretched thin across the polished floor by the dim lighting behind him. He didn’t blink—not once. Seconds dragged into sothing heavier, sothing suffocating, until it felt like minutes had passed in absolute stillness.

Then, abruptly, he moved.

Breaking his stance, Oliver turned and walked toward a section of the living room wall where a row of switches sat neatly aligned. His footsteps were soft, yet deliberate, each one echoing faintly in the quiet space. Reaching out, he tapped the switches one after another.

The lighting shifted.

From a dull, lifeless white... to a deep, oceanic blue that cast eerie shadows along the furniture... then finally to a blinding, radiant white that flooded the entire room in brilliance.

The transformation was instant.

Every corner of the living room was laid bare—the sleek couches, the low glass table, the polished wooden floor, and the large flat-screen TV mounted against the wall. There was no darkness left to hide in.

And most importantly...

There was no place for the shadow to escape.

Oliver stepped forward, stopping at the very center of the room, surrounded by the stillness of inanimate objects. His figure stood tall, yet sothing about him felt... off. Like a man detached from the world around him.

Then, slowly—

He smiled.

It wasn’t a warm smile. Nor was it one of relief.

It was empty.

His eyes remained fixed on the shadow beneath him, unblinking, unwavering.

"How dare you betray ," he said.

His voice was calm. Too calm.

The shadow did not respond.

It remained exactly as it should—flat, silent, and lifeless. No flicker. No distortion. No movent beyond what the light dictated.

Just a shadow.

For a mont... Oliver almost believed it.

Then—

His head jerked slightly backward, and a guttural laugh tore from his throat. It wasn’t loud, but it carried a disturbing edge, raw and unfiltered, as though sothing deep within him had found amusent in the absurdity of it all.

The laughter died just as quickly as it ca.

He looked back down.

This ti, his hand opened slowly.

Sparks of light began to flicker into existence within his palm—tiny fragnts at first, like fireflies gathering in the night. Then they grew, weaving together in intricate patterns, forming sothing solid, sothing heavy.

An axe.

A massive one.

Its blade glead with a faint, unnatural sheen, its surface etched with marks from battles long past. This was no ordinary weapon—it was the very sa axe he had taken from the Giant Knights, now resting comfortably in his grasp.

"Confess, you snitching runt," Oliver muttered, his tone dipping into sothing darker, sothing colder. "And maybe I’ll make your demise easy... and ruthless."

Still—

Nothing.

The shadow remained unmoved, bound by the laws of light and form. Silent. Obedient. Empty.

Oliver exhaled slowly.

Then, without warning—

He struck.

The axe ca crashing down with terrifying force, cleaving through the air before slamming directly into the shadow beneath him. The impact was monstrous, the blade piercing through the floorboards with a violent crunch that echoed throughout the room.

Wood splintered.

The ground trembled slightly beneath the force.

And then—

Sothing impossible happened.

The shadow moved.

Not as a trick of light.

Not as an illusion.

It moved.

It peeled itself away from Oliver’s feet, writhing unnaturally as it twisted into a distorted form. Its shape warped and contorted, stretching and coiling around the embedded axe, as though reacting to pain—real, tangible pain.

The blade had struck its shoulder.

Oliver’s lips curled upward.

"See..." he said, his voice laced with a sick satisfaction, "you could have avoided this."

He paused, watching the struggling mass.

Then he laughed again, softer this ti, almost mocking.

"Or did you, for even a second, think I wouldn’t find a way to hurt a shadow?"

A brief silence followed.

Then—

"You were wrong."

With that, Oliver raised his hand once more and summoned the Dark Crow.

The creature erged in a ripple of darkness, its form sleek and ominous, feathers shimring like fragnts of night itself. It perched beside him, silent and obedient.

Oliver placed his hand onto its body.

Slowly—

His fingers sank into its shadowy feathers, as though the creature wasn’t entirely solid. The darkness welcod him, embracing his hand, then his arm, then his entire form.

Until—

He was gone.

The Dark Crow activated [Shadow Travel].

Both it and Oliver dissolved into shadow, their forms lting into the ground before rging seamlessly with the writhing mass below.

And then—

There was nothing but darkness.

—

Oliver stood within it.

A world without light.

A world without end.

Above him stretched an endless sky of flowing shadows, like a current of darkness drifting without direction. Below him lay a vast sea of blackness, still and unfathomable, as though it could swallow existence itself.

And all around him—

An infinite void.

Yet even within this endless darkness, sothing had torn through it.

A massive white blade.

It stood impossibly large, splitting the world in two as it pierced through the shadowy sky and plunged deep into the black sea below. Its presence was violent, intrusive—a foreign object defiling the purity of the shadow realm.

This was the Shadow Defiling Axe.

Oliver walked forward.

His steps echoed faintly, though there was no ground to truly step on. And as he approached the towering weapon, he saw it—

A figure.

Kneeling.

Half of its body—split from shoulder down to one knee—was cleaved open by the monstrous axe. The wound was grotesque, yet no blood flowed. Only darkness leaked from it, dissolving into the void.

The figure breathed in ragged, uneven heaves.

It was alive.

Oliver stopped a few feet away.

For the first ti, he was truly within the shadow world—not observing through another, not relying on borrowed sight.

He was here.

And before him—

Was himself.

Or rather...

A pale, distorted reflection.

His shadow.

It knelt there, broken and trembling, its dark eyes lifting slowly to et his. There was confusion in them. Confusion... and sothing else.

Fear.

Oliver tilted his head slightly.

"They say one’s shadow is a reflection of themselves... their struggles... their pain," he said quietly. "Truly, that statent does not fail."

The shadow frowned, its voice weak but audible.

"What do you an?"

Oliver’s brows furrowed, as though the question itself confused him.

"If I were put in your position," he replied, "to betray myself for the right price... I would have done the sa."

He paused.

"I have little to no morality left. I would do anything to survive... to grow stronger."

His gaze hardened.

"But it’s still pitiful."

The shadow lowered its head.

Silence lingered.

"Getting betrayed by my own shadow..." Oliver continued, his tone flattening. "I don’t care who sent you. I don’t care if soone is turning humans into monsters."

His voice sharpened.

"My goal alone is already a burden."

He exhaled.

"I’ll leave saving the world to the so-called heroes... and focus on becoming stronger."

The shadow looked up again, confusion deepening.

"Why? Don’t you have any morality?"

Oliver froze for a mont.

Then—

Realization struck.

’This shadow... knows nothing of my first regression.’

A strange expression crossed his face.

Not anger.

Not hatred.

Sothing closer to pity.

Slowly, he raised his hand, then another axe head ford within his grasp.

The mont the shadow saw it—

Panic erupted.

"Wait!" it shouted desperately. "You can’t kill your shadow! No one can live without one!"

Oliver paused.

He examined the axe head carefully, turning it slightly as though admiring its craftsmanship.

Then he looked back at the shadow.

A faint smile ford.

"Sorry to say... fool."

His grip tightened.

SPLOOSH!

The axe ca down.

It split the shadow’s skull with a sickening crunch, the sound echoing unnaturally through the endless void.

"I... myself..."

Oliver’s voice was cold.

"Am more than enough of a shadow."

The body collapsed.

And then—

[Ding!]

[You have killed your shadow]

[You have gained a new title... Unseen by Light]