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  Within the fines of an endless sea of sand, farther into the northeast nds of the dark dunes of the poisonous yons, where the darkest and mea of assassins as dwelled within the Realm of Ennead, there was a huge bck temple, surrounded by a rge vilge, pletely dark, and only illuminated by faint purple-colored fmes.

  Surrounded by bck walls, the people inside of this vilge were not normal; their bodies were tattooed with bd purple, and their eyes were all crimson red.

  Having undergone a special transformation and awakening since birth, these people within the Realm of Ennead had only worshiped a single being, a being not of this Realm, not of Ennead, but of far away into the stars.

  Hundreds of years ago, he tacted their former leader, their first apostle and padin of darkness, an assassin of unparalleled strength within Ennead known as the Never-Ending Night. In this dark, poisonous, and dangerous nd within an already dangerous realm, he made his home.

  This is where he heard his new master’s orders; his enlighte, apanied by his powerful curses, granted him the power to bee known as a Soul Artifact Overlord, someone who built a dark, secret empire in the underworld.

  Assassins, rogues, thieves, criminals, bandits—they all came to him, aaught them how to be better at what they did. He formed a strong bond with these monsters of society and made them his family as he was told and as he desired.

  Their desdants, and the desdants of their desdants, were all born in these dark nds and taught since birth the art of assassination, smuggling, scamming, and more. For the first time in Ennead, a Sect exclusively born for the worst people in society was created.

  And it created the deadliest assassins that even the rest of the Realms have ever seen before. With the wondrous and dangerous powers of Soul Artifacts, rare objects that are the only way for someoo grow powerful in Ennead, they gained a hey didn’t call themselves assassins.

  No, to them, they were doing this because of their God, the Desecrated Shadow King. Ay from beyond whose entire being represents darkness, curses, shadows, and the broken, rotte of humanity.

  They became the [Desecrated Shadow King’s Temprs].

  Temprs indeed, not assassins, nues, not bandits, not thieves—to them, this was all due tious cause. Their smuggling, their acts of violeheir kidnapping, their murders—it was all for their God.

  Hehey were his dark temprs, who sowed chaos everywhere and then reaped the bes once everything was gone.

  To tiheir doe across the Realms, they expaheir forces and tinued spreading their influen Ennead, being one of the most dangerous Sects iire Realm.

  Feared by most small nations and respected by the stro of Empires, the Temprs of the Outer One desired to gain more influend let the World of Genesis learn about their Lord of Shadows and Curses.

  Of their King beyond the stars and of his endless m, sorrow, and hatred.

  Today, the stroemprs of the Sect gathered within the rgest Prayer Room of their Dark Temple, built eons ago, to both pray and train new recruits.

  A siall man with gray skin, covered in bck scales, with a long tail, small wings, and long bck hrowing upwards stood in the middle of them.

  Wearing bck, purple, and red robes that covered most of his body and face, except his hands a, which resembled sharp bird-like talons, he held a huge bck staff, a Soul Artifact of tremendous power.

  Behind him, there was a huge altar. As a giant statue built out of bck diamond stood, overflowing with a powerful aura of darkness and abyssal curses, this was a statue of an outer ohat has existed for over five hundred years.

  In front of him were over ten ures of all shapes and sizes; some were as small as children, others were t beings of over three meters i.

  Among them, Shamir stood in silence, his sharp eyes gng at the man in front of him with a slight boredom and indifference.

  It has been two days since his fight against Vd, so he was able to cool down and rex, although he felt more bored than rexed.

  He had been fantasizing about meeting him again, but it would be too soon.

  Vd has trow strohe most delicious of fruits only be enjoyed when pletely ripened.

  “I’m gd all ten of you could make it here,” said the Apostle of the Outer One in front of everyohe current Leader and Religious Head of the Cult, the great grandson of the {Never Ending Night}. “Shamir in particur, I’ve heard you had a little visit over Obscuritas…”

  The other emprs eyes all nded over Shamir, who remained in silehen nodded without making any expression.

  “Yes, it was aertaining visit, Sect Master,” he said. “I learned a lot of hings.”

  “Is that so…”

  The Sect Master and the Apostle of the Desecrated Shadow king walked across the floor, looking at the rest of the temprs in silence.

  “I’ve called you all here to discuss our expansion pns towards the other Realms,” he said. “As you see, Fantasia’s growth is steady. Their defenses against our invasion were not the best. So successful infiltration has been going smoothly.”

  “Ooh! Is that so, master?”

  “Iing…”

  “Isn’t Fantasia a Realm full of boundless resources? pared to our Realm… they are very privileged.”

  “Indeed, if we could reap even a ten pert of what they have, the situation in Ennead could ge forever,” he Apostle. “Therefore, we must do as our King orders… We shall tihe expansion, and I am pnning on sending a few of you there. Volunteers?”

  Quickly, several of the Temprs raised their arms, speaking loudly.

  “Please sehere, Sect Master! I’ll get it done for you singlehandedly!”

  A young man with a fiery gaze and spiky red hair, long fur-covered ears, and huge lion-like cws and legs spoke; his red, spiky hair grew around his neck, resembling a lion’s mane.

  His body was covered in purple, bck, aattoos, and he wore nothing but a bck robe and loose white pants.

  “Efret, I see you’re eager,” he Apostle. “But you’re too reckless… I’ll need you to go with someone who is more... well, posed.”

  “I’ll keep this ihen,” said Shamir, smiling. “Let me go, Sect Master. After my battle against that vampire… I’ve been itg for a fight.”

  “Hmm, no, Shamir, you ’t go yet,” the Apostle said. “After all, you went against the orders of the Sed decided to not kill your targets, instead fighting them for fun and then not killing any at the end.”

  “What?”

  “Is that true?!”

  “Shamir, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Hah! Is this really the same Shamir we know?”

  The other Temprs reacted in simir ways, awestruck by Shamir’s passion.

  Or, well, what they thought was mercy was instead just his own way of pying with his prey.

  “Don’t misuand,” he said. “I wasn’t merciful; I was simply having too much fun with my prey. It would be a pity if they died. I’ve been really bored tely, you know? Being an assassin is a good job, but it makes me feel quite dull… I want a thrilling battle on a while.”

  “And that’s the only reason why you just…?”

  Shamir’s eyes gred at the woman who was about to talk ba; her body froze instantly.

  “If anybody has a problem with how I hahings, you’re free to e at me and show me the ropes,” he smiled. “I’ll gdly take you all at the same time.”

  The temprs felt slightly shocked at how hostile he was being!

  Most of the Temprs held a strong bond of brotherhood and family, yet Shamir was different.

  Although he was raised here, he was different from the beginning—someoh incredible talent who was always sent on faraway missions.

  With little time to i with the rest, he grew distant and in his own world.

  “Enough with your jokes, Shamir,” a tall woman with dark brown skin and a very muscur body sighed. Her entire body was covered in bck tattoos and purple jewels, and her long, white hair cascaded to her hips. Her crimson eyes gred at Shamir, her face covered in white tattoos, giving her a tribal and wild appearance. “We temprs must not fight against one another... We serve the same god after all.”

  “Hah… Right, my bad,” Shamir shrugged. “It was just a joke; I apologize.”

  Although he apologized, the rest of the temprs didn’t know what he truly meant or if he was really being serious or not.

  “Haahh…”

  The Apostle sighed, as if he were dealing with a bunch of kids instead of assassins feared across the entire Realm.

  “Okay, Shamir, you may go, but kill your targets and don’t py around,” said the Apostle. “This is your st ce before I’ll have to administer some punishment to you.”

  "Punishment, you say?” Shamir ughed a bit. “Alright~ Thank you, Sect Master.”

  The rest of the Temprs sighed, gng at Shamir. Doing whatever he wanted really made them quite mad, but they held bad decided that it wasn’t worth it.

  “But what about Obscuritas?” The fiery young man named Efret asked this question as he crossed his muscur arms. “Now that Shamir ended up failing to even take down the Vampires, we pretty much lost all our footing at Elderbridge, right?”

  “Not pletely…” said the Apostle. “He did take down the rgest branch, but there’s another smaller one hiding right now; he hasn’t targeted them all; this’ll be our opportunity.”

  “Hey, you ’t do that; leave my prey alone,” Shamir suddenly said. “If anybody dares go there and try to kill him, you’ll die by my hand.”

  The rest of the assassins all gasped again.

  “Shamir! Are you serious?!” Efret asked. “You ’t just go around saying who is your prey or not; I also want to fight that guy!”

  “You’ll have to go against me first, Efret,” Shamir uhed his daggers.

  “Y-You bastard!” Efret roared as two huge, fiery red metallic gaus materialized on his two hands. “I’ll crush you!”

  As the two were about to fight…

  BAAAM!

  Suddenly, a giant hand hit the ground, their two auras instantly fading away before the immense pressure. The Apostle had not done a sihing, but it was once more that woman, that enormous, muscur giantess of over three meters of height.

  Her aura surpassed Shamir a bined, and her sharp, crimson eyes gred into the two temprs very souls. Her body, aside from her many tattoos, also revealed tless scars, showing how many battles she had gohrough.

  Her fist hitting the ground was enough to cool them down.

  “I’ve already said so... No fights between Temprs!” she roared. “If you don’t obey, I’ll MAKE you obey. Uood?”

  “D-Don’t get so mad at me, big sis Ashira! I’m sorry!”

  Efret panicked, not because of her strength but because he admired her, and thinking that he would disappoint her was more painful than risking his life fighting Shamir.

  “My apologies… However, my warning remains the same. Please leave them to me.”

  Shamir sighed, sheathing back his ons, as he gred at Ashira.

  Ashira gnced back at him; her aura didn’t recede.

  For a moment, the two only stared at one another, measuring their power, or perhaps their wills.

  But then, she nodded.

  “Very well, Shamir,” she smiled. “You’ve done a lot for the Sect, isn’t that right, Sect Master? I suppose we give him that.”

  “I guess so,” the Apostle sighed. “Seriously, you’re all such troublesome kids… Shamir, Elderbridge is yours. I shall not send the ten, but everything else is fine, right? The other branch won’t just stay there to get sughtered.”

  “Ah, yeah, that’s fih me,” Shamir nodded with a smile. “If he dies against trash, then he was never worth my time… It’ll be a rial for him.”

  As the Desert Elf smiled, the Apostle nodded.

  “But remember, Shamir. I want exceptional results once you trao Fantasia, uood?”

  “Yes, Sect Master. I will not disappoint you.”

  “Very well…”

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  Pach