The Last Paragon in the Apocalypse

Klaus stared at the body of the man in dark clothes, passed out on his floor, and smirked. The moment the man slipped into the wall, Klaus sensed him. It was a foolish mistake. Though Klaus didn’t know how to limit his senses to a specific radius, he never let them go easily.

It was evening now, and he figured if he focused on their suit, he might see more, especially with three ladies in the room nearby. So, he deactivated his full awareness but kept a part of it active. The instant the assassin used his spiritual qi to slip through the walls, Klaus felt it.

He then activated his sense knowing he would have to apologize to some people in the morning. But after sensing the intruder, he found that the man was just a saint. So, Klaus did not attempt to reveal that he had sensed him. Instead, he jumped onto his bed and waited.

As the assassin drew closer, just a step away, Klaus activated the Bell of Harrows. It didn’t ring out loud on the outside, but inside his soul sea, it rang clearly and he directed the north the sonic, and the soul attack to the intruder. Its effect hit Number 91 hard he is currently passed out from both soul and mental attack.

Klaus formed a hand seal, and a rune appeared on his forehead. It moved and entered the assassin’s body. He glanced at the man one last time, then jumped into his bed, ready to relax while he waited for him to wake up.

“Well, how was your sleep?” Klaus asked, watching the dark-clothed figure slowly open his eyes. He hadn’t bound the man at all; even his dagger lay on the floor beside him.

In response to Klaus’s cheerful greeting, the assassin reached for his dagger. But as he tried to move, he realized his body wouldn’t obey him.

“What? Performance issues?” Klaus asked, a mocking tone lacing his words.

The assassin glared at Klaus, frustration etched on his face. “What did you do to me?” he demanded, his voice strained.

Klaus chuckled lightly. “Just a little something to keep you from getting any ideas. You seemed so eager to play, so I figured I should spice things up a little bit”

The man started to struggle against an invisible force, trying to regain control. “You won’t get away with this,” he hissed, his anger rising.

Klaus leaned back casually, propping his feet up. “Oh, I think I will. You’re not exactly in a position to threaten me.” He paused, enjoying the moment. “Besides, I’m curious about you. What brought you to my doorstep, or more accurately, what brought you through my walls?”

The assassin’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’ll tell you anything? Just lift this witchcraft and I will show you amateur what I am made of”

Klaus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Amateur? You’re the one who got caught. I’d say that makes you the amateur here.” He smiled, leaning closer. “Why don’t you make it easy on yourself? Tell me who sent you, and I might let you leave in one piece.”

The assassin hesitated, weighing his options. “And if I refuse?”

Klaus shrugged. “Then we can play a different game. I have all night.” His tone turned playful, but the glint in his eyes showed he was serious.

The man’s resolve faltered. “I won’t be your pawn.”

“Not a pawn,” Klaus corrected. “More like a guest. You can choose to be helpful, or we can see how far your stubbornness takes you.”

With that, Klaus settled back, allowing the assassin time to think. The tension hung thick in the air. Klaus noticed the man trying to bite down on something hidden behind his teeth, but he felt nothing. Klaus had long since removed it. In fact, it was the senior in the soul sea who advised him to do so. This will be Klaus’s first time catching an assassin after all.

It was a bewitching spell. When cast into someone’s body, it would enter their soul and strip them of their free will. The spell wouldn’t allow the caster to read the victim’s mind, but it would let Klaus know when the man was lying. Moreover, he could end the assassin’s life at will, and the victim would be unable to harm him, or themselves no matter what.

Klaus had placed the mark on the assassin a while ago, rendering him docile. His mind was still his own, but he was bound by the spell’s power. Klaus leaned closer, watching as the assassin’s frustration slowly turned to resignation. “So, what’s it going to be?” Klaus asked, breaking the silence.

The assassin glared, but the fire in his eyes was dimming. “You think you can control me?”

Klaus smirked. “Control? Not quite. I prefer the term ‘guiding hand.’ You can still think, feel, and plot. You just can’t act on those thoughts without my say-so.”

The assassin’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent, weighing his options. Klaus could see the struggle within him, the conflict between pride and survival.

“Tell me what I want to know,” Klaus urged, his tone shifting from playful to serious. “Who sent you? What’s your mission?” Of course, he already knew he was there to kill him and even knew who sent him, but he had to fake it to get what he wanted.

After a moment, the assassin finally spoke. “I’ll never tell you anything.”

Klaus shrugged. “Fair enough. But remember, the longer you resist, the more time we have for this little game.” He leaned back, waiting for the man to crack.

The assassin was completely docile, and he knew it. He could move, run, or even shout if he wanted, but the spell wouldn’t allow him to act on his own will. Yet, despite this, that foolish thing called loyalty kept him from cracking. Klaus watched him with mild amusement, knowing the man was trapped in his own stubbornness.

Klaus wasn’t in any rush. He didn’t have much pressing on his mind or hands at the moment. If push came to shove, he could easily shove the assassin in a closet and head out for the trial. By the time he returned, even the devil himself would have cracked.

“Honestly, I’ve got all the time in the world,” Klaus said with a shrug. “But you, on the other hand, don’t. How long do you think that loyalty of yours will hold up? A day? A week?”

The assassin glared, his lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to respond. Klaus sighed dramatically. “Well, since you’re choosing the hard way, I suppose I’ll just go handle my business. By the time I get back, you’ll be begging to talk.” He stood up, stretching lazily as if the entire situation bored him.

He glanced down at the assassin one last time, his voice cold and final. “Loyalty won’t save you from what’s coming. But hey, enjoy your stay in the closet.”

With that, Klaus moved away, heading back to the hall. He didn’t want to keep looking at the bastard—he might accidentally kill him out of sheer annoyance. Leaving the assassin to stew in his own thoughts, since that was all he could do now, Klaus decided to have a drink.

As he left, Klaus reached out to his senior in the soul sea, asking if there was a more powerful spell he could use to break the assassin’s mind. But the senior’s response was blunt: “The current you can’t handle the karma that comes with such a stronger spell.” Klaus had no choice but to make do with what he had.

Not long after, Klaus found himself in a small bar inside their suit. The low lighting and the quiet atmosphere were a welcome break from the tense encounter. Just as he settled down with a drink in hand, Anna walked out of her room, her eyes slightly puffy from lack of sleep.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” Klaus asked, taking a sip from his glass.