In the frozen moment of time, the assassin holding a dagger pushed open the window and leisurely stepped into the room.
He slowly walked to the side of Sitana's bed, looking down at her peaceful and beautiful sleeping face, and mused aloud, "I wonder what that young lord is thinking, but whatever... it's none of my business."
"As a token of gratitude, I just have to ensure his mission is carried out to the fullest."
"Farewell, little one, it will be over in an instant."
The dagger, reflecting the cold moonlight, was merciless as it stabbed straight towards Sitana's neck.
Puff—
It wasn't the sound of a sharp object piercing flesh, but the soft sound of a down pillow being punctured.
The assassin raised his eyebrows slightly, his gaze falling on the pair of dark red eyes that suddenly opened.
Sitana, barely dodging the direct stab, also saw the blurry face of the assassin reflected in her eyes.
Even without understanding anything, her instincts and innate talents had already set her body's strength in motion, flowing through her limbs.
Originally in a state of rest and relaxation, her body instantly transmitted explosive power. Beneath the seemingly delicate and soft skin, the tight and well-organized muscles pushed the force from the waist and spine to the thighs. Her soft yet extremely resilient limbs kicked at the assassin's sternum from an incredibly tricky angle. Under such tremendous force, it was no exaggeration to say that the entire chest could be crushed.
However, Sitana didn't feel any response from her kick.
The young wolf's red eyes instantly contracted to the limit, and the intense phantom pain from her chest made her instinctively raise her arm to block before the dagger could fall.
This time, the blade truly penetrated the young girl's flesh, and despite her efforts to tense her muscles, her proud body, which was so tough that even a wolf's claws would struggle to rend it, was pierced through in an instant.
"BASTARD!"
The pain fueled Sitana's rage, causing her to roar and kick out once more, only to find her strike met with empty air.
But this time, her attack was just a feint with no real force behind the kick, allowing her to easily pull her leg back. She then used all four limbs to leap off the bed, successfully escaping the highly vulnerable flat-lying position.
"This is quite...," the assassin remarked with evident surprise, eyeing Sitana as she clutched her forearm, "Are you truly only at the Crystal Staircase level?"
"[Northern cursing slang], who the hell are you!"
With her short hair disheveled and her face full of anger, Sitana's eyes were fierce: "Want to avenge those two pieces of trash viscounts? Why don't you go pick on Hydra?"
"Well... about that."
The assassin shrugged: "You could say that I can't beat him."
In that instant, something inside the young wolf girl's mind seemed to snapped.
"You mean." Her face twitched, her canine teeth showing sharp tips, "I'm much easier to deal with, huh?"
The man burst out laughing: "Isn't it—"
In the blink of an eye, his figure materialized before Sitana, his blade sharp enough to cut through iron like mud, slicing through the air like a flash of light towards her throat!
"Very obvious?"
Watching Sitana tumble back in a flustered manner, the assassin spread his hands in response.
Dodging the attack by flipping backward, Sitana landed on all fours like a beast, while her throat emitting a low growl hot as fire.
She knew very well that she was not as strong as Hydra, far from being as strong as that annoying, hypocritical, scoundrel Hydra.
It was precisely because of this, because of the inexplicable yet genuine resentment that constantly surging in her heart, that Sitana felt a deep-seated anger at being inferior to Anselm.
—It was a raging fire that she herself couldn't understand, a chaotic thought that forced and urged her to become stronger quickly.
【I will not be manipulated as he please】
As the time spent with Anselm grew longer, Sitana found herself increasingly prone to such thoughts.
"So a beast-like nature, with a special talent in combat and intuition?"
The assassin nonchalantly flipped the dagger in his hand, musing, "It's not an uncommon talent, really. I'm curious why that lord holds you in such high regard."
Is a warrior with beast-like intuition really that rare?
Not at all. This gifted assassin from the Order of Time had seen countless individuals who boasted of their extraordinary fighting talent fell to their demise beneath his blade.
"If that's all you got," he yawned lazily, "then let's end this."
The man took one step after another, walking towards Sitana in the time that had inexplicably stopped.
"Still using this posture to fight," he sneered, "how patheti—!"
The assassin felt as if he had been slammed head-on by a frenzied wild boar.
Still in a crouched, all-fours position, Sitana lunged forward unexpectedly, her arms locking tightly around the assassin's waist, her head arching back!
"DIE!"
As her arms tightened with a terrifying force that could break the assassin's waist, Sitana, roaring, delivered a headbutt to his abdomen. Under this pincer attack, the assassin's lumbar spine and internal organs would likely be smashed to pieces!
However, that was not the case.
"I must admit... I've underestimated you."
The man sighed softly, seemingly unharmed for some reason, and then delivered a brutal knee strike to Sitana's chin, causing the girl to spit out a mouthful of blood on the spot.
"Just four times, right? Four times I have used my ability?" The assassin stepped back several paces, giving Sitana some safe distance, and surprisingly did not continue his pursuit. "You've seen through my arcane art? And you've even anticipated how long I can stop time?"
"This isn't something that can be done by intuition alone."
"Pah!"
Sitana spat out a small piece of her tongue, her mouth full of blood, looking utterly ferocious, no different from a beast: "Still have the mood to chat with me?"
"Oh, this... Miss Beast, you should know that I'm not your typical assassin."
The ornate and expensive dagger, adorned with a handle filled with flowing sand, twirled between the assassin's fingertips. He looked at the snow-haired girl with slightly distorted eyes, his curiosity piqued as he began to explain to Sitana:
"I—"
CRACK—BOOM!
Sitana watched as the assassin effortlessly cut through the furniture she had thrown at him with his dagger, her expression darkening.
From the previous three assassination attempts, she had discerned the assassin's ability.
Time.
It wasn't a speed that was too fast for her to react to; it was... time that had been frozen.
Because she had sensed that strange sense of displacement, every time she barely dodged the assassin's attacks, she not only prepared her counterattacks but also continuously observed the opponent's situation.
There was no sense of continuity in the assassin's attacks and evasions of her counterattacks.
It was as if... the intervening moments had been cut out.
Sitana immediately realized that it wasn't that the intervening moments had been cut out, but that she couldn't observe the time the assassin took to make his moves.
In other words, the assassin had frozen her time.
If it were the old Sitana, she definitely wouldn't have considered so much in such a short time.
She would have immediately identified the opponent as an enemy with extraordinarily terrifying physical prowess, because in her understanding, her own strength was everything. The inability to track the opponent's movements would signify only one thing: they were immeasurably faster than her.
And this wrong direction would only lead to a wrong conclusion.
But following today's lesson, Sitana was able to halt herself from instinctively heading down this wrong path.
The Beyonder. Mysterious, magnificent, intricate beyonder, the kind that's "not merely about brute force" beyonder.
It was precisely because of Anselm's earnest and meticulous teaching that she immediately considered the opponent's beyonder powers, detected the assassin's abnormalities, and was able to, in a remarkably brief period, discern the assassin's abilities through her innate talent.
Sitana had to acknowledge that she was indeed indebted to Anselm, although she didn't have the time for it now.
As for the uncanny, almost impeccably timed anticipation of movements, Sitana herself didn't know how it happened.
All she could sense was that, with blood constantly surged into her throat, it felt as though something was burning in the core of her head, and roars reverberated within her very soul.
At an unknown moment, the bleeding from the wound on the young girl's arm had stopped.
Her eyes twisted and condensed, and a colder, more ferocious will rose from her almost beast-like pupils.
Like a wolf.
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