Timeless Assassin - Chapter 825
Chapter 825: Thank-you For Everything
As Soron glanced towards the next section of the letter, he immediately noticed that the ink here was darker and more uneven, as though Charles’ hand had trembled or pressed too hard against the parchment while writing it.
The strokes looked harsher, the pressure heavier, betraying a moment where emotion had clearly spilled over the edges of his composure.
That small detail alone made Soron straighten his spine and adjust his grip on the letter, his breath slowing as he prepared himself to read the next part, knowing instinctively that whatever followed would not be any easier to bear than what had already come before, yet accepting that he had no choice but to continue.
[This next part, only read it if you already have the Origin Blades and the confidence to kill Gods with them.
For if you do not, then I have nothing more to say that will help you, old friend.
But if you do… then give what I am about to write next some very serious thoughts.]
Charles wrote, as Soron’s expression hardened, the courtyard fading from his awareness until only the page remained before him.
[In my understanding of the universal dynamics of power, I believe Helmuth the Berserker is the glue holding Kaelith and Mauriss allied.
And by extension, he is the glue holding the entire Righteous Alliance together.
As without Helmuth, I feel their cooperation will collapse…..]
Charles wrote, as Soron’s breath shortened a little.
He knew Charles was right in this line of thought.
However, at this moment, he did not want Charles to be right.
In his mind, he already knew that without Helmuth, the Righteous Alliance would likely not remain in one piece.
If left alone with Mauriss, Kaelith would not remain in such an alliance with a man of Mauriss’s temperament.
While with Mauriss and Kaelith separating, the Great Clans would abandon the current order under the Universal Government and a chaotic era would rise, where every power acted for itself.
“Hmmm—”
He mused, as although the logical side of him knew that Helmuth had to be the highest priority target for him to take down, the emotional side of him rejected that thought violently.
For his blades did not hunger for Helmuth’s head, but rather hungered for Kaelith instead.
[I know your killing intent burns for the blood of your brother.
And trust me, I want nothing less than the worst punishment for that betrayer for what he did to you and your father.
However, for the Cult’s future, killing Helmuth first makes more sense.
For even if Kaelith dies, Mauriss and Helmuth will stay allied.
But if Helmuth dies, everything ends.
The Universal Government will collapse.]
Charles wrote, the ink strokes jagged in this section, as if his frustration had bled directly into the page.
*Clench*
‘So that’s what you want to tell me?’
Soron thought, his teeth clenching tightly, as he felt his jaw ache.
‘You want me to go after a secondary target first, just because it is logically the right thing to do?
Despite knowing my personal history with Kaelith?’
‘Old friend, I’ve waited for this battle for over two millennia…. Surely you don’t expect me to give up killing Kaelith first in favor of a mere Helmuth….’
Soron thought emotionally, as he continued reading.
[I know how much you have sacrificed for the Cult, old friend.
And that you deserve closure in your final battle, closure for your father’s death.
But as your vice sect master, and the only friend you ever allowed into your heart, it is my duty to show you the right path.]
Charles wrote, as Soron felt the storm rise inside him again, violent and choking, a whirlwind of rage and grief that he could barely contain.
He hated the truth Charles was forcing him to face.
He hated the logic.
He hated that Charles was right.
He hated that fate had placed the burden of the Cult’s future in his dying hands.
He hated all of it.
But more than anything, he hated that Charles, his only friend, was the one showing him this truth mirror, as although he could have screamed at him if this were a one on one conversation, he could not do so now.
[In the end, the choice is yours.
And believe me when I say, I would like nothing better than you killing every God in the universe, starting with Kaelith.
But if you must pick just one…
I suggest you go after Helmuth first.]
Charles wrote, as Soron shut his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as the courtyard wind rustled the leaves overhead.
He knew this decision would come someday.
However, he just did not expect it to wound him this deeply.
Regardless, he continued to read, his eyes falling on the last section of the letter.
[As I write this last part, I feel more relief than fear because I know I will die honorably and while defending the Cult, which to be fair is how I always imagined myself being taken out.
Was my life the best it could have been?
No.
Could I have reached Demi God if I had pushed harder?
Maybe.
Do I have regrets?
Plenty.
But was I happy with how I spent my years?
Absolutely.]
Charles wrote, as Soron’s lips parted just slightly, a tremble forming there before he forced it still.
[So in the end, I am simply grateful.
Grateful for the journey.
Grateful for the Cult.
Grateful for the honor of serving at your side as your vice sect master.
And while I have more regrets than I can count, the only one that truly stings is not being able to say goodbye to you in person.]
He wrote, as Soron froze.
Every word written in this section struck him like a blade.
Every sentence sinking deeper than the last.
As his chest tightened until breathing itself became a conscious effort.
[So I say it here, through this letter instead…
Goodbye, old friend.
I will see you on the other side.]
Charles wrote, as the ink on the final line seemed smudged by thick fingers, as if Charles had written it and decided that it felt too cringe and decided to rub it off, only to find out that ink could not be removed that way.
“Fool…”
Soron muttered, as he suspected that Charles had probably already known that his death was inevitable when he wrote this letter, yet instead of saving his own life and running away, he stood his ground to face it like a man.
“There’s no goodbye between friends….”
He muttered softly, as despite his best efforts to hold them back, tears began to stream freely down his face, as he felt the pinch of losing Charles all over again.
“But since you said it first. I’ll say it too….
Goodbye old friend.”
“And thank-you for everything.”