The Deadly Assassin Robin (Tristan Storm) novel Chapter 1377

The mountain wind howled across the dueling platform on Mount Netheris, thick with a palpable killing intent.

The elite young disciples still stood frozen in shock.

Even the Thirteen Guardians were deeply shaken by Robin's final, brutal act.

For decades, the Netheris Syndicates under the High Pontiff had held absolute control over Netheris.

Never once had anyone dared to openly defy them.

However, on this very spot, stood an unknown man who had just violently executed Jaxon, the Third Syndicate's brightest young hope, in plain sight despite multiple warnings to desist.

This act was nothing short of an outright challenge to the authority of the Dark Syndicates.

Slowly, Valdor, a Chief Guardian serving the High Pontiff, stood up and fixed a cold, sharp gaze on Robin. "Do you really believe the Crownward Syndicates of Netheris will do nothing?"

The Chief Guardian of the Third Syndicate, Liorik, stepped forward from the judge's seat, having recovered from his brief shock. "I will execute this savage myself, right here and now!"

Valdor snapped coldly, "Stand down! A judge may not act, or it will disrupt the rules of our Netheris Syndicates!"

Alessia moved forward, addressing the group, "Master Carrington, esteemed Chief Guardians, given that this is the Martial Arts Tournament, all disputes should be resolved within this arena. It's our responsibility to protect the honor and power of the Syndicates. As for dealing with this savage, allow us to handle it."

Frederick from the Second Syndicate was the first to step forward. "I will go first."

Frederick had reached the level of Peak Grandmaster.

Though he shared the same rank as Jaxon, his combat strength far surpassed him.

He had placed among the top three multiple times in past Martial Arts Tournaments at Mount Netheris.

Rumor had it that by the end of the year, Frederick would break into the Warlord level.

As he stepped onto the platform, silence blanketed the mountaintop.

After a moment of hesitation, Hacyon stepped forward. "Respected Chief Guardians, Frederick, please hold on. I would like to speak with Robin."

Emory Tait, Chief Guardian of the Ninth Syndicate, spoke coldly, "Hacyon, what are you trying to do?"

"Master Tait," Hacyon said, "if Robin is willing to swear loyalty to the Ninth Syndicate, I would like to ask the Guardians to spare his life and instead have him undergo a year of punishment in the Soulforge Tower. What is the Guardians' decision?"

She turned to Valdor, the High Pontiff's top Guardian, with a slight frown.

Valdor gave a small nod.

Emory replied icily, "One year of soul refining isn't enough for his crimes. He must remain in the Soulforge Tower for three years. If he survives, our Ninth Syndicate may consider keeping him. If not, let him perish inside."

Hacyon bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Chief Guardians."

She then walked up to Robin. "Robin, listen to me. Bow and apologize to the Guardians. Come with me to the Ninth Syndicate and accept punishment in the Soulforge Tower. This is your only chance to live! Otherwise, the elites of the Nine Syndicate and the Thirteen Guardians will never let you walk off this stage alive!"

Robin let out a cold laugh. "A pack of trash like them can't even hurt me!"

"You ... you're impossibly stubborn!" Hacyon nearly lost her mind with frustration.

"I'm trying to help you!" Hacyon exclaimed. "I went to the Guardians and pleaded for a way to save you, and you ... you don't understand what's best! If you yield now and acknowledge your wrongdoing, I'll ask them again—just one year of soul refining, and your life will be spared! Otherwise, even if you survive this duel, Master Vanderbilt of the Third Syndicate will annihilate you!"

Robin smiled and shook his head. "So, ten years in the Ninth Syndicate's Soulforge Tower taught you this subservient way of life? Didn't your father ever tell you? If someone has no dignity, what's the point of existence? I didn't come here to submit to the rules of a bunch of hoodlums. Move. My life and death are my own affair, and I have no need for your supposed kindness!"

He ignored Hacyon and pointed at Frederick. "Come. A year from today will be the anniversary of your death."

Frederick smirked. "Big words."

At that, a wave of Peak Grandmaster energy surged across Mount Netheris.

Then the crowd screamed.

But there was more; Frederick's aura erupted, shattering the Grandmaster level and surging directly toward the First Rank of the Warlord tier.

In an instant, the winds on the arena turned violent, sand and gravel swirling madly.

Frederick, originally six feet tall, now stood nearly six foot six under the power of his Warlord breakthrough, his body like an iron tower.

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