Time, the text emphasized, remained the one constant. Years were not an exception but a requirement. Decades were not uncommon. Those who endured long enough, who survived both failure and stagnation, were the ones who advanced. Not because they were always more talented, but because they remained when others did not.
There were no shortcuts offered. No alternative paths suggested. Only repetition, restraint, and the acceptance that progress would come slowly, if it came at all.
So these 2 assassins were both Adept Rank.
For a brief moment, something close to amusement flickered at the edge of his thoughts.
This little, for him. They surely underestimated him. The problem was everything else. He had no mana.
No direct way to meet that level of force head-on. And worse, the reason he had come—the impulse to deal with the lackey personally—had cut through the kind of caution he usually relied on.
He had walked into this unknowingly. The girl to his right moved first. Yes he could tell they were females by their voluptuous body's and hair styles.
There was no wind-up and visible preparation. One moment she was standing there, the next she was already in motion, crossing the distance between them in a way that collapsed space rather than traversed it.
Her hand came up, angle precise, strike already committed before most would have registered the movement.
Daruis didn't step back, or raise the blade.
For a fraction of a second, it looked like he wouldn't react at all.
Then she stopped.
Her body shifted mid-motion, the strike abandoning its path as she twisted sharply to the side, movement breaking just before impact.
A line of searing light cut through the space where she had been.
It was a plasma blade. It hummed with contained intensity as it passed, close enough to distort the air, close enough that hesitation would have meant contact.
The source stood behind Daruis now.
One of his droids. Its frame held steady, titanium structure catching the faint light, shoulder-mounted system still adjusting from the rapid deployment.
The blade extended from its arm retracted slightly, then steadied, ready to strike again if needed.
Daruis didn't turn to look at it. He had never come alone, he couldn't be that incompetent especially now when he has no powers.
The assassin on the opposite side shifted her stance, weight adjusting, eyes narrowing just slightly as she recalculated the situation.
The lackey's expression faltered just by a fraction. Then, from the doorway—another step, thay sounded more like Metal against wood. Then another, and another, the sound didn't rush.
It accumulated as one unit entered the room from different angles at time.
Their movements synchronized, precise, controlled. Plasma systems inactive but ready, blades concealed, frames identical in structure and presence.
They didn't spread out immediately.
They advanced just enough to claim space.
By the time the tenth stepped into the room, the air itself felt different, the balance shifting from a contained ambush into something far less certain.
For a fraction of a second, the room held still.
Not in calm—something sharper than that.
The two assassins didn't speak, but the shift in their posture said enough. This wasn't what they had prepared for. Not the number, not the coordination, not the fact that he had layered his response before stepping into the trap.
But surprise didn't slow them, it hardened them. Daruis didn't wait to see how they would adjust. The moment the balance tipped from control to contest, he moved.
The window shattered outward as he drove through it, wood and glass giving way under the force of his momentum. Cold air rushed in to replace the closed tension of the room as he landed hard outside, rolling once to absorb the impact before pushing himself back to his feet.
"Move," he said, voice low, already in motion.
Four droids broke formation immediately, falling in around him without needing further instruction. The remaining six shifted the opposite way, stepping forward into the space he had just vacated, intercepting the assassins before they could follow cleanly.
Behind him, the sound changed.
Metal meeting something far stronger than steel. The sharp, contained discharge of plasma bursts firing in controlled intervals.
Then something else—magic, heavier, more forceful, pressing back against the machines that didn't yield as easily as expected.
At first, the assassins had likely assumed it would be simple. Cut through than pursue.
But the droids didn't break. Titanium frames absorbed impact that should have crippled lesser constructs. Plasma blades forced space where there shouldn't have been any.
Each second they held forced the twins to adjust, to commit more than they had planned.
Daruis didn't look back as he made his escape. The delay was enough. The streets blurred as he pushed forward, boots striking stone in a rhythm that didn't falter. The town at night was quieter, but not empty—shapes moved in the periphery, doors closed a little faster as he passed, instinct reacting to something they couldn't quite name.
Ahead, was the gate not too far. Behind—
One of the assassins didn't run to catch him.
A faint pulse of energy marked the transition, subtle but immediate, like space had folded just enough to place her exactly where she needed to be, she had somehow teleported and apppeared next to him.
Daruis's mind registered it in pieces as the marker was a tailsman that anchored her.
Her dagger was already moving. There was no wind-up, no hesitation, no wasted motion. From arrival to execution in a single, seamless action, aimed cleanly at his neck.
The droids reacted faster than thought.
Two of them intercepted, plasma blades igniting mid-swing, forcing her to break the line of attack before it could land.
The third stepped in, shoulder launcher discharging at close range, not to hit cleanly, but to disrupt, to create space where there was none.
For the first time since this had begun—
Daruis felt it for real, a slight ting of fear.
It wasn't abstract. It wasn't distant. It sat sharp and immediate in his chest, cutting through the clarity he usually relied on. She had crossed the distance instantly. She had almost reached him before he could respond.
If the timing had been even slightly different
He didn't finish the thought and Instead he acted. "Hold her," he said, voice tighter now, less controlled. "All units—converge. Now."