Revive Rome: Wait! Why not make the empress fall in love with me first?
Chapter 126 - 30: The White-robed Assassin

Chapter 126: Chapter 30: The White-robed Assassin

Ilanian White-clothed Assassin!

Aske immediately restrained his gaze, looking elsewhere.

However, the assassin quickly turned his head back, his eyes locking onto Aske.

He had been spotted... Aske thought helplessly.

Ilanian assassins, whose bloodline included the "Intuition" sequence, could sense impending danger at low levels and even detect others’ gazes at high levels.

This white-clothed assassin seemed to possess a high sequence of intuition ability (or a corresponding extraordinary item), allowing him to notice Aske just from a fleeting glance.

"Thira, take Nora back first," Aske said gently.

"Eh?" Thira was puzzled, but Aske quickly winked at her.

Thus, she obediently took Nora and left.

Aske watched the white-clothed assassin weave through the crowd, hand on his longsword, the other gripping the handgun at his waist.

This was likely to be the toughest battle he had faced since his arrival.

The Magic Tide Level limit was 5; if a high-level transcendent launched an extraordinary ability exceeding Lv.5, their spirituality would be damaged, leading to a loss of control.

However, physically oriented bloodlines could bypass this limit, such as "Weapon Master" or "Assassin."

Their bloodline’s magic potions didn’t grant transcendent individuals various unimaginable abilities; instead, they directly enhanced the individuals’ physical fitness and combat experience.

In other words, these were passive BUFFs, not active abilities.

Passive BUFFs naturally did not consume magic and therefore did not require the expenditure of spirituality, allowing them to function fully without worrying about the Magic Tide limit.

Most of the current Ilanian white-clothed assassins were advanced transcendent beings left from the last Magic Tide. Since this one was assigned to perform tasks in Olin City, his level wouldn’t be too high, estimated to be around Lv.8-Lv.10.

(Higher-level white-clothed assassins were generally accomplishing missions in major cities of the western countries.)

Nevertheless, even if only 4-5 levels lower, wouldn’t that mean his explosive power and reaction speed, among other attributes, were completely suppressed by the opponent?

It would be better not to fight... Aske turned around and left in the opposite direction from where Thira and the others went.

Once he reached an empty alley, Aske turned around and saw the white-clothed assassin standing at the entrance of the alley, his hood concealing his face.

"I’m just a passerby," Aske said earnestly. "I don’t intend to get involved in anything."

The assassin opened his arms and popped two daggers from his sleeves, gripping them.

"Why bother?" Aske sighed.

There was a loud noise as a whole brick wall collapsed, and Aske was sent flying, rolling several times on the ground.

The assassin looked at his daggers expressionlessly.

In that lightning-fast moment, he had swung three slashes with his dagger, all of which were blocked by the opponent.

Even the last whip kick was more a deliberate hit by the opponent, used to create movement and distance.

Aske sprang up, saying, "Since you can’t kill me anyway, how about we stop here? You still have your targets, right?"

"Is it worth exposing your presence just to chase me?"

The assassin responded with a sleeve crossbow, which Aske deflected with his sword.

Aske turned and fled.

The assassin quickly pursued him.

The two engaged in a close chase through the alley, Aske never heading towards the noisy areas, and neither did the white-clothed assassin.

Because if they were discovered by the public, the white-clothed assassin would immediately abandon the chase and hide.

Then, Aske would have to guard against endless assassination attempts from him, such as an unexpected arrow, a venomous snake, or a bomb under the bed.

Thus, both instinctively headed towards secluded places.

Reaching the service staircase between the 60th and 61st floors, they found a secluded maintenance warehouse with the door ajar.

Aske darted inside and saw a boy about twelve or thirteen looking at him in terror, dropping the drill in his hands.

"You!" he yelled.

"Don’t yell!" Aske rushed in and pulled him behind the shelves.

Seconds later, the white-clothed assassin kicked open the door and coldly scanned the room.

His intuition told him that the person was in this room.

The two hiding behind the shelves silently held their breath.

The white-clothed assassin looked towards the wall where a piece of power armor was displayed.

It had obvious signs of modification; in the East Solomon Empire, civilians modifying power armor was illegal.

The white-clothed assassin used his pinky to wipe the spray paint on it and sniffed it next to his nose.

The damp trace meant the user hadn’t gone far.

That meant there were two people in the room.

Pulling a dagger from his sleeve, the white-clothed assassin nonchalantly scraped the armor.

He scratched ugly marks into the painted surface.

The youth immediately showed intense emotion, desperate to rush out and perish together with the white-clothed assassin, but Aske firmly held him back.

Though he held him, a slight noise was made, and the white-clothed assassin turned his head towards the direction of the shelf where Aske and the youth were hiding.

Then, suddenly, a gun barrel peeked out from the middle of the clutter behind the shelf.

The white-clothed assassin swiftly sidestepped to dodge as the gun fired.

The shot missed the white-clothed assassin.

But it hit a single-phase nuclear fusion battery placed on the windowsill.

From the white-clothed assassin’s perspective, the power armor conveniently hid the placement of the highly explosive micro nuclear fusion battery; thus, he didn’t notice this lethal hazard.

A massive explosion echoed out in all directions, instantly engulfing the warehouse in black smoke with a sharp, acrid smell.

Behind the collapsing shelf, the pulled youth collapsed on the ground, dazed, knowing his power armor must have exploded.

From the black smoke, a figure dashed out, sharply stabbing a dagger towards Aske.

Aske grabbed his knife with his left hand and fired thrice with the handgun in his right.

Even with three bullets in him, the white-clothed assassin continued to clash blades with Aske.

The two exchanged several rapid strikes, each with a fierce determination to not rest until the other was dead. The clang of their weapons resonated through the smoke-filled warehouse.

Aske’s longsword performed a Sharp-breaking move, bypassing the white-clothed assassin’s block and plunging straight into his chest.

At the same time, the white-clothed assassin’s dagger stabbed into his abdomen.

Then both let go, and the white-clothed assassin staggered and collapsed weakly to the ground.

Only then did Aske notice his entire back was shredded by the blast from the nuclear fusion battery.

Blood pooled underneath him like a lake; by the rate he was bleeding out, he should have been dead already.

This white-clothed assassin was seriously strong, more Spartan than the Spartans. If it hadn’t been for using the environment and blind spots, he wouldn’t have been able to kill him so quickly.

Aske staggered over and began to search the body.

A sleeve crossbow, poison, smoke bombs... he indiscriminately grabbed a bunch of items, not even looking as he stuffed them all into his bag.

Finally, he managed to find a small package, it was chewed hemostatic herb mixed with trace amounts of anesthetic.

Pulling out the dagger from his abdomen, Aske lifted his torn chain armor and cloth armor, pressing the herbs forcefully into the wound.

The pain subsided, and he slowly leaned against the wall and sat down, feeling a drowsy sensation.

However, a youthful voice woke him up.

Aske strained to open his eyes, only to see the youth’s expression, half in pain and half in anger.

"You owe me a power armor!" he roared through clenched teeth.