Summoning Millions of Gods Daily, My Strength Equals Theirs Combined Chapter 5 -5-The Terrifying Elemental Assassin

In the imperial capital of Eryndor, within the bustling marketplace of the outer city.

A sturdy wooden door exploded open abruptly from a mighty kick that echoed like thunder.

A brute in a broad hat strode inside boldly, his face twisted in threatening fury.

"Old Jack! The second day has already arrived. How long will you keep delaying me?"

Upon a shaky wooden bed, a lame-legged elderly fish seller fought to prop himself up. His fingers shook as they gripped the bedding. Despair brimmed in his gaze while he stared at the brute.

"Boss Harlin... there must be some error. I handed over all the money yesterday! I passed the coins to your guy Danny, and he claimed the debt was settled..."

"Bullshit!" Harlin growled. His eyebrows furrowed intensely, his stare gleaming with savage intent.

"Do you believe you can deceive me, old timer? You have the nerve?"

Without any caution, he slammed his foot down ferociously, his heel crushing against the elder's cheek.

"Spit it out! Where have you stashed the remaining cash?"

Old Jack howled in torment, grasping frantically at Harlin’s boot while he wept,

"Boss Harlin, I vow, nothing remains! Mercy... please release me!

"My initial loan from the Blackfish Gang was just two gold coins. Yet I've returned twenty to you! Surely that's sufficient?"

Harlin merely scoffed, his mouth twisting upward.

"Sufficient? Hardly for me."

His boot bore down with greater force. A sickening snap of bone resounded, and Old Jack’s wail of suffering ripped across the dingy chamber.

But suddenly—

A tiny form dashed from under the bed. Emitting a fierce yell, a young girl bit down hard on Harlin’s arm.

"Release my father, you wicked brute!"

Harlin flinched in shock. His eyes lowered, fixing on the small shape.

"Oh ho... Old Jack, I had no idea your girl had grown so much."

His smile warped into a sinister leer.

"Very well. Allow me a few days to amuse myself with her... and consider your debt wiped clean."

Dismissing Old Jack’s frantic begs, Harlin grabbed the girl harshly by her collar and hauled her out.

The nearby vendors in the market had observed in hushed quiet.

When Harlin appeared outside, clutching the child tightly, everyone bowed their heads, acting oblivious.

Not a soul ventured to utter a word. None braved opposition.

They understood all too clearly the consequences of challenging the Blackfish Gang.

Truth be told, this scene barely shocked them. Events like these unfolded daily in the outer city. If pressed, they considered Old Jack fortunate.

His kin remained breathing, after all.

Typically, once the Blackfish Gang targeted an individual, it was straightforward: capture the target, ransack the home, wipe out the relatives. A complete package of dread.

By that measure, Old Jack and his spouse enduring could nearly pass for compassion.

At the same moment, deep within the Blackfish Gang’s base—

The second-in-command fidgeted restlessly, shooting an anxious look toward the bare-headed, marked figure lounging at the hall’s forefront.

"Boss... aren’t we pushing boundaries a bit much this round?"

He gulped, dropping his tone.

"We’re on Cardinal Austin’s domain still. If our antics grow too wild, won’t that invite the Cardinal’s fury?"

The bald leader snickered ominously, reclining with disdain etched on his features.

"Why worry? You seriously believe our backer stationed us here sans safeguards?

"Imagine he’s unaware of Austin?"

He grinned slyly.

"Likely he’s cut a deal with the Cardinal already... or maybe the Cardinal’s in on the scheme.

"Plus—if they opt to suppress us someday, how else do they extract protection money from the Treasury?"

The deputy’s look stayed tense. Doubt clouded his sight.

"Boss, I fear they’ll exploit us till we outlive our worth. Then discard us like refuse.

"Our fates won’t matter to them."

The bald man’s grin dissolved. His gaze turned pensive. Far from stupid, he pondered the risk deeply.

Yet prior to his response, a piercing, derisive chuckle echoed from the entrance.

"Bennett, you overthink matters!"

The tone flowed silkily, young, brimming with contempt.

"Huddling in fear like doves... small surprise you dread death constantly."

The entrance doors flung apart.

Three silhouettes entered.

Each donned opulent silk garments, exuding noble poise. Yet under their sophistication pulsed a far deadlier force—a hidden force bearing down on the thugs akin to a crushing anvil.

"L-Lords... what brings you here?"

The bald head and his second dropped into deep bows instantly, brows almost scraping the ground.

These weren’t mere mortals.

Their backgrounds stayed concealed, yet the essence of awakeners emanated from them fiercely, like a tempest.

Around them, even the notorious gang chief of the outer city held his breath cautiously.

Solely due to these three had the Blackfish Gang ascended swiftly, claiming lands and expanding wildly.

The trio’s frontman—a youth with brown ringlets and a noble visage—declared icily.

"Your directives remain straightforward. Sow turmoil. Unleash mayhem across the outer city.

"Once the moment arrives, departure shall be allowed."

He gestured dismissively, his voice offhand but commanding.

"Obey my will, and rewards await. Resist... and you’re aware of the cost."

The bald leader mustered a smile, bobbing his head eagerly.

"Indeed, my lord. Naturally. We shall follow your instructions precisely."

The youth smirked subtly, haughtiness marking his traits. Such detachment—such superiority—compelled the gang head’s submission even deeper.

No partner was he. A lord, with them as hounds.

"Henceforth, intensify your efforts," the young one proceeded.

"Unleash sufficient disorder, and the treasury must deploy army funds.

"The Secretary-General grows aged and fatigued. As the empire falters, he’ll have no choice but to draw assets from the palace core.

"Thus the royals... shall teeter on ruin’s brink."

The bald leader chuckled emptily, keen to ingratiate.

"Affirmative, my lord. We’ve dispatched our forces already. Results will emerge shortly. Trust us—we shan’t disappoint."

The boy’s mouth hooked up.

"The royals are done for. Mere playthings henceforth, tokens on a gameboard to shift and shatter.

"Meddling with them, if briefly... offers diversion at least."

The bald leader faked yet another chuckle, ready to lavish praise.

However—

A gentle gust wafted across the chamber.

Subtle. Barely perceptible.

In an instant—

The second-in-command’s head soared upward.

Blood erupted over the ground, crimson streams defiling the planks.

The space halted.

All countenances paled.

"W-What occurred there?"

The bald leader gaped, eyes bulging, air trapped in his chest.

The chamber stood vacant.

No forms. No killers. Zilch.

Still, his second lay slain.

Another gust rushed in.

The brown-locked awakener tensed. Horror seized his gaze.

"An assassin!" he bellowed, bolts of lightning sparking alive on his arm. Bolts flickered wildly, bathing the area in sharp flashes as he surged ahead, pursuing a shadow he scarcely perceived.

Yet ere he advanced further than a stride, icy metal sliced his limb.

One slim, keen incision.

Agony followed soon.

"AAAHHHHH!"

He shrieked while his limb tore apart, lopped neatly at the upper leg.

Blood surged forth like a geyser, drenching the rocky surface. He toppled, twisting in suffering, his howls resounding in the chamber.

The remaining two awakeners freaked, summoning their abilities frantically. Fire and ice flickered on their palms.

But prior to unleashing their assaults—two forms materialized at their backs like specters.

And swiftly, both were bisected.

Their frames tumbled, ripped and shattered, their abilities’ glow snuffed out.

The bald leader, Bennett, fell to his knees.

His frame quivered fiercely, soaked in icy perspiration.

"What... what’s transpiring?"

His thoughts spun.

No killers lurked. The chamber was bare. No invaders, no forms—naught.

Nevertheless, his second and the trio of awakeners perished in moments.

No common slayers these.

Ghosts they were.

Ethereal beings that attacked unannounced, silently, relentlessly.

Terror flooded him. His gut urged flight.

In a frantic surge of vigor, he grabbed the opening, lunging for the exit.

But scarcely two paces in, a glint of silvery gleam flashed across his vision.

A compact knife stabbed straight through his right socket, erupting from the rear of his cranium.

His form spasmed briefly, then slumped dead upon the ground.

The Blackfish Gang’s base fell quiet again.

Quiet... save for the soft treads of invisible slayers, fading into the darkness.