Chapter 6: Ten years of waiting

For a moment, the atmosphere turned strangely heavy.

The assassin rubbed the hidden blade resting against his palm, trying to use the familiar coldness to calm himself down.

He stared deeply at the blond man before him, countless emotions churning painfully within his chest.

Anger. Confusion. Frustration.

And even a faint trace of joy and hesitation at recovering something once lost.

Eric had always been a man of few words. Sometimes he could go several days without speaking a single sentence.

But now, he felt as though he had countless questions he desperately wanted to ask.

Where had you gone these past ten years?

Why did you step back just now?

Why did you leave… only to suddenly return again?

There was so much he wanted to ask.

Yet after hearing Zong Mi apologize, the assassin suddenly fell silent again—just as he had done countless times before.

“It’s good that you came back.”

He heard his own low voice speak while forcefully suppressing the strange emotions surging restlessly from deep within his heart.

“Uh…”

Zong Mi raised his head slightly.

His own height was already considered tall for an adult man, yet the assassin before him still seemed a little taller.

Though that was understandable. Dark elves were still elves, after all. Elven bloodlines were always blessed with tall figures and beautiful appearances.

“Why don’t we leave this place first? We can talk outside while we walk.”

Zong Mi wasn’t comfortable with this kind of darkness. Honestly speaking, darkness made someone like him—someone without night vision and accustomed to keeping everything under control—feel extremely insecure.

“Alright.”

Eric answered briefly.

Those violet eyes lingered on him for a moment before the assassin silently turned away again.

“Let’s go.”

At some point, the assassins hidden within the underground temple gradually emerged from the shadows once more.

Each of them wore the standard stealth attire and hood commonly used by assassins throughout the Descending Continent. The tradition had continued unchanged for ten thousand years.

As Eric walked past, not a single assassin dared to speak.

One after another, they stood within the temple hall, placing their hands over their hearts while bowing respectfully toward the center.

Their postures were silent and devout, unreserved in expressing the utmost reverence for the master of the temple.

Within the world of assassins, Eric was an uncrowned king.

The ruler of shadows.

The sovereign of the night.

Only then did Zong Mi finally begin to feel a sense of reality.

Without drawing attention, he looked toward the man’s back ahead of him, a complicated emotion surfacing in his heart.

For Zong Mi, the expansion update had merely felt like sleeping groggily for two days.

But for the NPCs inside Descending, ten full years had truly passed.

Ten years.

Even though humans on the continent generally enjoyed long lifespans—and dark elves possessed even longer ones—ten years could never be considered short.

Time did not become briefer simply because one lived longer.

If anything, its length became even more unbearable.

For a moment, Zong Mi’s gray eyes darkened slightly.

He had spent enormous effort maintaining relationships with these people because he knew they would become useful to him in the future.

Ten years ago, he could confidently say they were loyal to him and willing to help him ascend the throne.

But after ten years apart, washed by unfamiliar time and distance, those once-solid relationships no longer felt so certain.

He would have to test the waters carefully.

Rebuild the connections subtly.

Maintain and repair relationships worn away by time like someone balancing on a tightrope.

Ten years ago, he and Eric had been brothers who adventured together, traveled everywhere together, and fought through life and death together.

But ten years later, Eric had transformed from the quiet young assassin who still struggled with Shadow Kill into the Hall Master of the Assassin Temple—the number one assassin on the rankings, estimated to be well beyond Level 80.

Time could become a chasm between people.

Zong Mi could no longer determine exactly what Eric was thinking now.

“How have you been lately?”

After leaving the underground and emerging into the back courtyard of a tavern under Eric’s guidance, Zong Mi paused before stepping forward to walk beside him, casually asking the question.

He needed to construct his identity flawlessly.

For ordinary players, much of the Descending Continent still remained unexplored. Many chose to stick together with fellow humans while adapting to this unfamiliar world.

High-level NPCs like Eric were far beyond the reach of most current players.

What Zong Mi needed to do now was properly explain why he had disappeared without saying goodbye.

After all, from another perspective, recruiting someone only to vanish immediately afterward would leave anyone bothered.

Thinking back to the future scene he had just witnessed, Zong Mi felt inexplicably irritated.

Even if that future did not necessarily belong to the current timeline, he still needed to eliminate the possibility.

“…Not bad.”

The assassin’s response was calm and emotionless, yet it eased Zong Mi’s worries somewhat.

At the very least, Eric had not shown any signs of rejection toward him.

Back when Zong Mi first met him, he had already known Eric was not someone who liked talking.

At the very least, he would never say unnecessary things.

“After all these years, you finally achieved your wish back then. Congratulations.”

Once the conversation opened, continuing became much easier.

No matter how much time had passed, the bond between them ten years ago had genuinely been strong—the kind of friendship where good brothers practically shared the same pair of pants.

More often than not, it was Zong Mi speaking while Eric quietly listened, just like before.

The two of them walked slowly through the streets of Gazi.

The city roads were smooth and orderly, paved with neat yellow stone bricks. Buildings lined both sides in endless rows.

It was a typical European-style city, filled with cold stone architecture and floating magical lamps. Looking across it, the sharp lines and majestic layout perfectly embodied the grandeur of the Central Continent’s capital.

It was currently dusk.

The setting sun spread golden light across the streets, coating the city in shimmering brilliance, magnificent and dreamlike.

Countless pedestrians passed them by, occasionally glancing in their direction.

After removing his hood, Eric was undeniably a remarkably handsome man.

When those violet eyes focused on someone, even without doing anything, he carried an almost overwhelming sense of dangerous allure.

Without realizing it, he had already grown from that slightly immature young assassin into the sovereign of the night.

Zong Mi sighed inwardly.

“How about we grab a drink at a nearby tavern?”

Night was gradually falling, and in the distance Zong Mi could already see the brightly lit tavern.

It was the finest tavern in Gazi. Even the cheapest booth cost at least one gold coin.

Expensive as it was, the alcohol truly justified the price. The tavern had endless returning customers and an excellent reputation.

Before the expansion update, Zong Mi had once promised to treat Eric there after he returned from a mission.

Remembering that promise now, he added guiltily:

“My treat.”

“……”

Eric responded softly, his violet eyes growing even deeper.

Suddenly, he remembered certain things.

Ten years was enough to forget many memories.

Eric had forgotten countless things and severed himself from much of his past.

But every memory related to Zong Mi had been carefully sealed away inside a hidden box deep within his mind—something he occasionally reopened to look at.

Because of that, he remembered the final time he saw Zong Mi with absolute clarity.

It was unforgettable.

Ten years ago, Eric had only been around Level 40, while Zong Mi was barely Level 20. Although Eric was technically an NPC, both of them were essentially weak rookies of similar strength.

By coincidence, they met while adventuring in the wild. From there, they occasionally completed missions together and somehow became friends.

And for assassins, who usually walked alone, having friends was extremely rare.

The Assassin Temple valued strength above all else.

Within it existed a strict ranking hierarchy, and higher ranks enjoyed greater privileges.

The previous Hall Master had been Eric’s mentor.

But that meant little, because a single assassin mentor could easily have hundreds of apprentices. Eric had merely been one insignificant student among them.

Then one day, the Hall Master summoned Eric to the temple and asked whether he was willing to accept the blessing of the Goddess of Night.

Eric immediately understood.

The moment had arrived.

The Goddess of Night was the deity worshipped by assassins. Only those who survived the Night Baptism could become heirs to the next Hall Master.

This had been the temple’s law for ten thousand years.

According to the assassins’ creed—

“Behind every opportunity lies risk.”

—the Night Baptism naturally carried danger as well.

All assassins participating in the trial would be trapped inside an arena.

Only the final survivor—the one who slaughtered every other participant—could receive the blessing of the Goddess of Night.

It was easy to imagine how bloody and brutal such a battle would be.

The Hall Master already had a favored successor in mind.

Asking Eric to participate merely meant using Eric’s blood to pave the road for another apprentice.

But Eric still accepted.

He needed power.

He still was not strong enough.

The realization had struck him harder than ever during a previous expedition, when Zong Mi was accidentally injured.

Even though Zong Mi had casually waved it off and said he was fine, Eric could never forget the feeling afterward.

Like a thorn lodged permanently in his throat.

“Is it a solo mission?”

The assassin paused briefly before silently nodding.

“Alright.”

Eric still remembered the blond man smiling as he lightly punched his chest.

“Good luck, brother. Don’t keep me waiting too long. Once you come back from this mission, I’ll treat you to drinks at the best tavern in Gazi. We’re drinking until we drop.”

Perhaps it was the phrase—

“Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

—that gave Eric strength.

Inside that dark arena, the heavily wounded Eric suddenly erupted with desperate force, driving his broken dagger viciously into the other apprentice’s back and tearing out half of his heart.

I can’t die… he’s waiting for me.

After leaving the arena, Eric hurriedly drank a healing potion before rushing nonstop toward Gazi.

The assassin stood beneath the tree where they usually met, dagger in hand, waiting from sunrise until dusk, from dusk until the stars filled the sky.

But the person who promised to drink with him never appeared.

Eric waited for three days.

No one came.

It wasn’t as though Eric had never searched for Zong Mi.

He issued bounties through the Assassin Temple. After inheriting the position of Hall Master, he even raised the bounty to the highest possible level.

Even a single clue would earn enormous rewards.

But—

Nothing.

Still nothing.

Zong Mi had vanished from the Descending Continent as though he never existed.

And along with him disappeared those strange people who had suddenly appeared calling themselves “Adventurers.”

Eric waited ten years.

Ten years without a single trace.

And now, after all that time—

Zong Mi had finally returned.