Chapter 891: Chapter 6: Time Paradox, Shifting the Root!_2
Hundreds of meters away.
A shadowy and cold figure gazed intently at the distant mansion and spoke in a deep voice: "Spartacus has already lured out the Heroic Spirit protecting Napoleon."
"It’s time for others to take action."
As the words fell.
Several figures appeared around Napoleon’s mansion, including powerful humans and summoned Heroic Spirits. These individuals launched an assault on the mansion, and soon a fierce battle erupted, with some even employing curse magic at a high-tier magic level.
At this moment, a phantom-like figure suddenly appeared like an assassin. She had somehow disguised herself as Napoleon’s maid, and after the protective Corsican witch had left, she immediately drew a dagger and struck at Napoleon’s vital point.
— Charlotte Corday (Assassin) (Four-star Silver Gray).
The assassin who killed Marat during the French Revolution, later sentenced to death and executed at the guillotine on the revolutionary square.
Her appearance indicated that more than one faction wanted Napoleon dead.
Splurt.
Blood splattered.
Bam.
In this life-and-death moment, Napoleon Bonaparte seemed to unleash all his potential, swiftly drawing the gun from his waist and firing a shot that hit the assassin’s chest.
Charlotte Corday was severely injured; she was never a formidable Heroic Spirit.
But even so, for Napoleon to face off against a Heroic Spirit as a mortal, his strength was indeed more significant than rumored.
This shot gave Napoleon the chance to escape. He leapt out of the second-floor window, enduring immense pain as he began to reload ammunition upon landing, and then he quickly called for help from others at a distance. Realizing no immediate help was coming, he swiftly entered one of the hidden rooms.
His guards had been killed by the assassin with astounding skill. He expected returning to Paris would be a life-and-death situation, but never imagined so many sought his life.
"Is my life to end here?"
"No!"
"If this group of vermin takes control of France, it will only drag this country into the abyss."
The will to survive propelled the wounded Napoleon to rush into the underground chamber, where one of his lovers, the Corsican witch, had set up a summoning ceremony. Only by summoning another Heroic Spirit did he have a chance to survive the night’s attack.
Blood dripped onto the engraved array on the floor.
Napoleon Bonaparte knew little about the Heroic Spirit summoning ceremony; after all, he was a general, not a wizard. He didn’t even know that mortals found it challenging to summon two Heroic Spirits at once, nor did he understand what kind of Holy Relic was needed for a successful summoning.
But surprisingly, as he chanted the incantation taught by the witch, the ritual array activated without any Holy Relic.
Bam!
Then the door to the basement was shattered, a scarred man, along with the previously attacking female assassin, appeared. They had dealt with Napoleon’s personal guard and pursued him to the secret room.
Napoleon didn’t hesitate, raising his gun to shoot once more. He knew firearms would struggle to kill these Heroic Spirits, but he would not wait to die.
A gale swept through the underground chamber.
Amid the slightly shocked gazes of the enemies, beside Napoleon Bonaparte, a bright white light suddenly shone, followed by the appearance of a heroic and imposing figure. Clad in ornate clothing, part general and part emperor, he calmly lit a cigar with his gun muzzle and then eyed Napoleon Bonaparte with a complex gaze.
"Are you my Master?"
This newly appeared Heroic Spirit exuded a strong presence, seemingly possessing the courage to challenge everything. He slowly drew the French longsword from his waist, stood in front of Napoleon, cocked his head, assessing the enemy across from him with an arrogant demeanor: "I give you a chance to run."
"Otherwise."
"You’ll die here."
The Heroic Spirits opposite wasted no time and immediately launched their attack.
But the heroic man fought one against two without showing any disadvantage, even appearing somewhat at ease. The French longsword in his hand stirred up a fierce hurricane, followed by a serious expression and a deep voice: "Time’s up."
"Face the gale!"
An icy flash shattered everything inside the underground chamber.
Bam!
The heroic man drew the pistol from his waist, and the bullets he fired resembled cannonballs, unleashing a barrage that covered the entire area with firepower. Even more astonishing, the shadow of an elite squad appeared behind him, and the dense storm of bullets obliterated everything, tearing the two Heroic Spirits to shreds.
Napoleon Bonaparte stood shocked by the scene before him.
For some reason, as he gazed at the heroic man before him, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him, prompting him to ask, "What is your true name?"
However, the heroic man ignored him completely.
From the moment he was summoned, he seemed to possess an autonomous ability to act independently, making it difficult even for other mages to control him, let alone Napoleon Bonaparte, who had no talent for magic.
"You can stay here until everything ends."
"Or you can join me outside, face these enemies, and embrace the challenge of the era."
This heroic man appeared unafraid of anything. As he stepped out of the underground chamber and saw the corpses of the nearby slain guard, a faint trace of sadness crossed his face.
