Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World-Chapter 118: Assassination

In the blink of an eye, the boy with jet-black hair stepped through the shimmering purple formation, his boots touching down on cold marble stone.

He found himself in a vast chamber; and at the chamber’s heart stood a grand bed, its ornate frame draped in silken sheets.

Upon it lay an Elf, her beauty radiating through the tension that tightened her delicate features.

The instant he materialized, the boy acted with practiced precision.

His hand darted to his pouch, retrieving a small, obsidian pill that glinted ominously in the low light.

He tossed it into his mouth, and it dissolved on his tongue in a heartbeat.

A surge of raw power erupted within him, coursing through his veins like liquid fire, unlocking a fragment of the immense strength he kept sealed away.

He had five seconds... five fleeting ticks of time to fulfill his purpose.

The Elf’s eyes had snapped open quickly the moment she sensed him, her senses razor-sharp despite the stillness that had cloaked her moments before.

She needed no incantation and no gesture as her magic was an extension of her will.

"Begone, invader!" Her voice rang out, clear and commanding, echoing through the chamber with the weight of royal authority.

The air obeyed her instantly, rushing toward the boy in a lethal wave, sharp enough to cleave stone and flesh alike.

But as it closed in, something inexplicable happened. The currents faltered, recoiling as if struck by an unseen wall.

They scattered, fleeing from the boy’s presence like frightened creatures, leaving the Queen blinking in stunned disbelief.

Confusion came up across her flawless face, but it was swiftly replaced by dread.

She felt it then... a spike in the boy’s power, a dark and suffocating energy that rolled off him in waves..

Her heart trembled and a shiver of fear raced through her frame. She could sense a threat from the boy unlike any she had faced before.

The boy wasted no time. His hands moved in a blur, summoning tendrils of shadow that writhed into existence from the air itself.

They snaked toward the Queen, thick and sinuous, their surfaces glistening with an inky blackness that seemed to devour the light in the entire chamber.

The tendrils coiled around her, tightening with relentless force, before plunging into her mind.

The chamber darkened more as the dark energy swelled. It was as if the shadows themselves had come alive, a malevolent force too vast to contain.

The Queen fought back, her magic flaring in a desperate bid for survival.

Golden light clashed against the darkness, illuminating the chamber in brief, blinding bursts.

She was no mere Elf, yet, against this onslaught, her power faltered.

The tendrils burrowed deeper, overwhelming her defenses with their sheer, unrelenting might.

The struggle was fierce but brief. With a final, anguished cry, her head exploded in a burst of gore and light, the dark energy tearing through her like a storm through fragile glass.

The boy stood motionless as his mission was complete.

The Elf’s lifeless form slumped against the bed, her once-radiant beauty extinguished. But the silence that followed was short-lived.

The chamber doors burst open, and a flood of elves poured in, their faces twisted with shock, anxiety, and fury.

They had heard the commotion, and now they could see the result, they sought vengeance.

Spells ignited the air as they lunged at him.

But the boy was already moving, his focus absolute.

He channeled every ounce of his remaining magic into concealing his presence, his form being enveloped in a very thick dark cloak.

Their attacks kept faltering before reaching him, like the fight he had just triumphed.

With his five seconds ticking down to their final moments, he reached into his pouch once more, retrieving a smooth white stone.

He squeezed it in his fist and the fragile surface cracked under the pressure.

A brilliant purple light flared, enveloping him in its radiant embrace, and in an instant, he was gone.

***

Back in the quiet of his room at the Academy, the boy reappeared, the purple glow fading into the stillness.

The cold floor beneath him was a stark contrast to the chaos he had left behind.

He stood for a moment, his dark eyes glinting with an icy resolve. His expression remained unyielding, a mask of calm amidst the storm he had unleashed.

"Order shall be restored," he murmured in a low voice.

With a curt nod to himself, he sank back to the floor, crossing his legs and resuming his meditation.

The events of the chamber slipped from his mind like shadows fading at dawn, his focus already shifting to the next step in his inscrutable plan.

***

Meanwhile, in the Elf Kingdom, the Queen’s chamber had descended into chaos.

The once-pristine space, a sanctuary of elegance and power, was now a scene of devastation.

The elves who had rushed in stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief as they gazed upon the lifeless body of their Queen.

Tears welled in their eyes, streaking down faces that had once shone with pride and grace.

She had been their light and an unbreakable pillar, as she was easily the strongest Elf in Eldryth, and definetely among the strongest in the entire World.

The Queen was after all, the only Elf to have broken through the Star system, as she was a Transcendent Mage, a warrior who could single-handedly defend their realm against any foe.

And yet, she had been snuffed out in mere moments, her death a wound that threatened to unravel their entire civilization.

Among the first to arrive was a figure of striking beauty, even among the elves.

His long, flowing hair fell down his back in waves of silver-gold, shimmering like moonlight caught in a stream.

He wore no shirt, his chiseled abs a testament to both strength and elegance, each muscle defined with an almost sculptural perfection.

His skin glowed with a faint luminescence, a hallmark of his High Elf lineage, and his piercing green eyes burned with a mix of sorrow and steely resolve.

He had been outside the palace when the disturbance began and it had turned into a race against time to reach the Queen’s side.

He might have lost the race, though deep down, he knew no speed could have altered her fate.

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