The Greatest Assassin Gets Reincarnated in Tensura

The MC then continued his training, sharpening his skills as he traveled across the Abyss, ensuring that he avoided the other Primordials. His strength grew exponentially, his control over his magic becoming second nature. Days turned into months, months into years. He honed his techniques in isolation, studying the very essence of his power with Lara's guidance. His mission was clear—to manipulate the Cardinal World from the shadows, shaping its balance without ever being detected.

He learned patience, the art of concealment, and the importance of striking only when necessary. Every battle he engaged in was calculated, a step forward toward achieving his ultimate goal. He dismantled powerful enemies in the dark, taking what he needed, always staying hidden. His presence was a whisper, a ghost, unseen yet always lurking.

Then, one fateful day, everything changed.

A sudden surge of energy pulsed beneath him—a magic circle glowing with deep crimson runes appeared at his feet, radiating immense power. His instincts immediately flared, but before he could react, a voice thundered in the air around him.

"Hear me, demon! Answer my call and do my bidding!"

The words dripped with arrogance, a command rather than a request. The MC's eyes narrowed. "Tch. This person is rude," he muttered.

Before he could consider breaking free of the spell, Lara's calm voice echoed in his mind.

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His lips curled into a smirk. "Finally… the time has come."

The moment he accepted the call, the summoning circle erupted in a blinding light, pulling him through the fabric of existence. His body felt weightless, the sensation both exhilarating and unsettling. The darkness of the Abyss faded, replaced by a swirling tunnel of pure energy. The shift was instantaneous—one moment, he was in his domain, and the next, he found himself standing in an entirely new world.

The first thing he noticed was the overwhelming scent of incense, thick in the air. His vision adjusted quickly, revealing a grand hall with towering stone pillars adorned with intricate carvings of ancient runes. A massive red carpet stretched from the grand entrance to the elevated silver throne ahead. Arcane blue flames flickered atop golden chandeliers, casting an eerie glow across the room.

Surrounding him stood sixty mages, all donned in ceremonial robes, their hands still glowing from the remnants of the summoning ritual. Some looked at him with curiosity, others with fear. A few, however, wore expressions of sheer arrogance.

And then, seated upon the ornate throne, a figure gazed down at him. The summoner—a man clad in regal black and gold robes—leaned forward slightly, his amber eyes scrutinizing the demon he had just called forth.

"So, you are the demon I have summoned?" the summoner mused, his voice calm but laced with superiority.

The MC took a moment, assessing the situation. He could already tell—this man thought he was in control. A smirk formed on his lips.

"Summoning a powerful demon like me and the first thing you do is bark orders? How foolish."

A ripple of gasps spread among the mages. Some took a step back, their fear palpable. Others, caught between pride and disbelief, clenched their fists. The summoner, however, remained composed, his smirk unwavering.

"Hmph. I summoned you with my power, which means you are bound to my will."

The MC chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Is that what you think?"

A single step forward, and the temperature in the room plummeted. A wave of pure pressure crashed down upon everyone present. The weaker mages dropped to their knees instantly, gasping for breath. Even the more seasoned ones struggled, sweat forming on their brows. The torches dimmed, their flames flickering as if suffocating under his presence.

He raised his hand lazily, black mist swirling around his fingers. "Let me make something very clear…" His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement. "I am not some mindless beast to be tamed. If you cannot prove your worth, you will be nothing more than another corpse at my feet."

The summoner's smirk faltered for a brief moment, but the MC caught it. His sharp crimson eyes took in the man before him—sitting atop a grand throne of polished obsidian, adorned in luxurious robes of deep purple and gold. The crown upon his head gleamed under the flickering candlelight of the throne room, casting a faint glow on his calculating expression.

With an unwavering voice, he spoke.

"Enough of the theatrics. Why have you summoned me?"

The man on the throne leaned forward, his piercing gaze meeting the MC's without fear.

"I have called upon a powerful demon to eliminate a traitor."

The MC's eyes flickered with interest.

Crossing his arms, the MC smirked. "A traitor, you say? Go on."

Darius exhaled sharply before continuing. "One of my generals, Callas, has turned against me. He took a portion of my army, retreated to a fortress at the kingdom's border, and now prepares to strike against me. He believes he can overthrow me and seize my throne." His fingers drummed against the armrest of his throne. "I want him dead before he makes his move."

The MC studied the king carefully. "So you require me to kill this Callas and his men? Is that all?"

Darius smirked. "Not just kill. Erase him. His existence, his followers—wipe them from this world. Make an example of him so that no one will ever dare betray me again."

A cruel request, but nothing surprising coming from a king. The MC remained silent for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Hmph. A fitting task for a demon, I suppose."

He then took another step forward, his gaze turning sharper. "And what of my payment?"

The question sent a ripple of unease through the gathered mages. The air seemed to grow colder.

King Darius, however, did not falter. Instead, he smirked and snapped his fingers. A moment later, several soldiers entered the throne room, dragging along a group of ragged, malnourished individuals—slaves.

The MC glanced at them, sensing their despair. Over 200 of them. Men, women, even some children—all bound in chains, their faces hollow with hopelessness.

Darius gestured towards them. "Slaves. Criminals, war captives, and undesirables. I was going to sell them, but for you…" He leaned back into his throne. "I offer them as your feast. Consume their souls, take their essence—whatever it is you demons do. Let their lives serve a purpose in securing my reign."

The MC remained still for a moment before a slow grin spread across his face. His crimson eyes glowed faintly, a deep hunger flickering within them.

"Now that is an acceptable payment."

The slaves trembled as a suffocating pressure filled the room. Some fell to their knees in sheer terror, realizing they were standing before an entity that did not see them as people—but as food.

Darius watched carefully. "Then we have a deal?"

The MC chuckled darkly. "Yes, Your Majesty. We have a deal."