Gods, demons, and other mysterious entities exist somewhere—whether in this world or beyond. The very word world has long been fractured throughout history, a shattered term steeped in ancient conflict. Since time immemorial, countless rebellions have erupted between gods, demons, and countless other beings that once walked these lands.
Legends speak of a figure who claimed the title of Creator, a being who, without fail, emerged to save all in every era, arc, and timeline. It was he who classified all living things into their respective orders: humans, demons, divine beings, gods, shadows, monsters, fairies, souls, elves, beasts, demihumans, dwarves, immortals, aliens, spirits, dragons, dreamhunters, slaves, underworlders—and many more, including himself as the ultimate creator. The system he established governed existence for ages, until the passage of time reduced it to nothing more than myth.
Now, in this era of dread and unrest, those ancient beings—gods, demons, fairies, spirits, dragons, dreamhunters, underworlders, the creator himself—have not been seen for millions of years. The world has descended into a period of uncertainty, where peace is but a fleeting illusion. And in this tale, we follow the life of a man—one said to be the most handsome of all.
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A lone figure stood on the edge of a towering rooftop, his silhouette etched against the twilight sky. Cloaked in darkness, his form was completely concealed beneath layers of intricate, assassin-like gear, making him an enigma to any who dared look. The only feature visible—his eyes.
Murderous, yet irresistibly captivating, his calm purple gaze glowed faintly in the night, tinged with a crimson essence that hinted at something far beyond human understanding. He stood still, unwavering, watching the rising moon as it bathed the world in its silver radiance.
Suddenly, a sharp voice shattered the stillness.
"Hey, you! Come down. Your master is calling for you. You have a final mission."
The figure did not flinch. He merely gave a slow, deliberate nod, acknowledging the order with a subtle tilt of his head. Without hesitation, he turned and descended from the rooftop, moving with a fluid grace that seemed almost unnatural.
A man stood by the doorway, the source of the voice—a fellow guild member, his face partially obscured by the dim lighting of the alley. Together, they walked in silence, their footsteps echoing through the deserted streets.
Before long, they arrived at their destination—a massive, ominous structure that loomed against the night sky. The building exuded an oppressive atmosphere, a place that reeked of blood and secrets long buried. A rusted title board hung above the entrance, bearing the name: Assassin's Guild X.
Both men came to a halt in front of the building, standing still for a moment before a gruff voice called out from within.
"Come in."
Inside, the air was thick with an eerie tension. The interior was a twisted blend of a nightclub and a prison, its dark corridors lined with hidden, broken chambers—each whispering untold horrors. Flickering neon lights cast distorted shadows, and muffled music thrummed from somewhere deep within, like the heartbeat of a dying beast.
At the far end of the room, seated on a grand royal chair that seemed almost out of place in the decrepit surroundings, was him—the boss. A man with an aura of dominance, flanked by thirty heavily armed guards stationed strategically across the floor.
His cold eyes flickered toward the purple-eyed assassin, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.
"Hansi," he drawled—the nickname given to the man deemed the most handsome of all.
The assassin remained silent, his gaze unwavering, waiting for the command that would seal his fate.
The air inside the guild hall was thick with tension as the man seated on the grand chair leaned forward, his sharp eyes locking onto the figure before him. His voice echoed through the dimly lit chamber.
"My greatest, finest assassin... my prolonged slave—Galactico."
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Hansi, the purple-eyed assassin, stepped forward silently and bowed with precision. His movements were flawless, void of emotion, a machine honed for perfection.
The boss ignored Hansi’s usual silent demeanor and continued, his voice carrying a sinister undertone.
"I have summoned you here for your final and most important mission."
Hansi remained still, showing no reaction, his gaze fixed on the ground.
"You will infiltrate the nation of Raylight, the realm of the light sorcerers, and eliminate the Duke of the House of Gandors."
Not a single muscle in Hansi’s body moved—unfazed, unbothered. The boss smirked, amused at his unwavering composure, and leaned back in his chair.
"And finally, Galactico," he added with a grin, "I have something better for you. This mission was handed to me by none other than the King of Raylight himself. Read this."
With a flick of his wrist, the boss tossed a rolled parchment toward Hansi. In one swift, effortless motion, he caught it mid-air and unrolled it with a calm, practiced ease. The letter was elegantly inscribed, formal in tone yet laced with desperation.
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**To the Assassin's Guild X,**
*The Duke of Gandors, Libert Gandors, has fallen under the possession of a mind-controlling entity known as Glart. This monstrous parasite has seized control of the duke, sowing chaos and destruction within our kingdom. We implore you to eliminate him before further harm is done.*
*You will be handsomely rewarded for your services.*
*Signed,*
**The King of Raylight**
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The boss's voice cut through the silence.
"So, your job is simple—kill the duke. Do this, and your name will be etched into the guild’s history. Not that I expect you to care..."
He smirked, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "And when it’s done... I will finally set you free."
Hansi gave a small nod, a silent confirmation of his acceptance.
"You leave tomorrow," the boss added. "Remember, this mission is easy, so try not to rack up too many unnecessary kills."
Another nod.
The boss chuckled darkly. "Meet you in the newspapers, Galactico."
With that, Hansi and the other guild member left the hall, disappearing into the darkened streets of the city.
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That night, under the veil of darkness, Hansi lay in a closed-off alleyway wedged between two abandoned buildings. Though he appeared to be resting, his senses were razor-sharp, alert to the slightest disturbance. The cold winds of dawn brought no change to his ever-calm demeanor.
Morning arrived. Without hesitation, Hansi rose and stepped out into the dim light. In an instant, he teleported back to the guild, silently requesting departure clearance.
With approval granted, he vanished once more, reappearing at the towering entrance gate of Raylight.
The massive stone gates stood imposing, guarded heavily by soldiers clad in gleaming armor. As he joined the line of travelers seeking entry, suspicion sparked in the guards’ eyes at the sight of him. However, a thorough search yielded nothing—his weapons were well-hidden, and his adventurer guild card served as a perfect disguise. After brief scrutiny, they allowed him passage.
Once inside, Hansi's sharp eyes analyzed his surroundings with precision. He navigated the bustling streets with calculated steps before swiftly ascending a nearby building with effortless, feline grace. Hopping across rooftops with fluid motion, he soon reached the palace perched atop the mountain—his target.
Rather than employing a typical assassin’s stealth, he opted for a more direct approach. Entering through the main gate, he swiftly incapacitated the guards, ensuring they were only knocked unconscious. Examining their pulses, he confirmed they lived.
With a faint whisper of magic, he rendered himself invisible and moved undetected through the palace corridors, weaving past patrols with ease, using dazzling ninja-like maneuvers to disorient them—yet he left no trail of death behind him.
Arriving at the throne room, Hansi used a discreet spell to uncover a hidden passage behind the grand throne—a concealed stairway leading downward. Without hesitation, he descended into the darkness.
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The hidden chamber beneath the throne was a modest library, its shelves lined with ancient tomes and scattered scrolls. He moved swiftly, scanning the room with a meticulous eye until his hand landed on an aged map detailing the entirety of Raylight.
There it was—the location of the House of Gandors.
Without a moment’s waste, Hansi teleported himself two buildings away from the duke’s estate, taking position atop a neighboring rooftop. From his vantage point, he observed the grand three-story structure with calculated precision.
Activating his magical sight, he peered through the walls with uncanny accuracy.
Inside, he counted **twenty guards** stationed throughout the floors, along with **three royal women.** However, there was no immediate sign of the duke himself. His gaze then shifted to the underground level—where he detected **ten more guards** and the presence of two figures. One male, one female.
Hansi narrowed his eyes.
The hunt had begun.