Timeless Assassin

Chapter 941: Desperation

(Execution Livestream Continuation, The Pit)

As the Cult Army continued carving forward through the Third Ring with terrifying efficiency, cutting down Transcendent-tier defenders at a pace that shattered every prior expectation, it was not the soldiers locked in combat who reacted first to the shift in momentum, but rather the Righteous Faction’s most distinguished guests and dignitaries seated behind them that did.

Positioned between the Third and Fourth Rings, their initial unease surfaced subtly, expressed through restless movement and quiet, sidelong glances toward the battlefield, as those who had arrived confident in their immunity began recalculating distances and probabilities in their minds, measuring the steadily shrinking space between themselves and the advancing carnage while watching the Third Ring’s formation buckle in places it had never been designed to fail.

"This looks concerning."

"Will we be okay?"

"Holy Hell, I felt that clash here in my bones...."

The guests talked amongst one another, as they watched the Third Ring’s fall with wide eyes full of terror.

*Slip*

*Step* *Step*

One by one, the wise ones who had already calculated the future, began to abandon their seating positions and retreat, as slowly but surely, unease began to spread through the civilian ranks in uneven waves, as conversations grew strained, voices rose in pitch, and bodies started drifting backward on instinct, as though distance alone might buy them safety.

What began as cautious repositioning soon slid into open retreat, as clusters of civilians turned away from the battlefield and pressed deeper toward the Fourth Ring, their movement coalescing into a chaotic tide surging rearward in desperate unison, as fear overwhelmed decorum and self-preservation eclipsed what little dignity remained.

"Fuck this shit, I’m outta here!"

"Umm, excuse me gentleman, I was wondering if you know the emergency evacuation route out of here?"

"My lungs! Oh by Lord my lungs! I haven’t run like this since I was five."

The dignitaries complained as they moved, only to be abruptly stopped when their chests were blocked by the wall that was the Fourth Ring.

*Block*

No matter how hard they tried, or how charmingly they tried to slip through Monarch’s holding shields, not a single civilian was allowed through, as they were all forced to halt at the edge.

"Commander... Commander, please, let me pass," one man shouted, his voice cracking with desperation as he stepped forward from the crowd, hands raised in supplication as he gestured frantically toward the space beyond the Fourth Ring, "Commander, I’ll pay you any sum you wish, any amount at all, just let me stand beyond the Fourth Ring, just for a little while."

He said, as his eyes darted back toward the battlefield repeatedly, as though expecting the Cult Army to burst through the Third Ring at any second.

However, the Monarch-tier Commander he addressed did not react at all, his stance remaining unchanged.

"Commanders, please let us through," another voice called out, louder and tinged with panic as a group of dignitaries pushed forward together, "we are the distinguished guests invited by the Universal Government to witness this historic execution, we are the economic, scientific, and technological minds of the Righteous Faction, surely you cannot expect us to stand here and face those evil Cult bastards on our own."

She said, as her voice trembled despite her attempt at authority, as her finely tailored robes brushed uselessly against the immovable wall of armored Monarchs.

As once again, the Commanders did not move.

"Commanders, they are almost through the Third Ring," a third civilian shouted, sweat pouring down his face as he gestured wildly toward the battlefield, "if you don’t let us through now, we might not make it to safety in time."

He pleaded, as bodies pressed closer from behind him and the crowd compressed under shared terror, the realization settling into every mind at once that escape was no longer guaranteed, no matter how loudly they begged or how far they tried to retreat.

Yet despite the rising anxiety and the mounting desperation rippling through the civilians, the Fourth Ring remained utterly unmoved, its Monarch-tier defenders standing in perfect formation without so much as shifting their footing, their silence and stillness acting as an unspoken refusal more absolute than any shouted command.

*Nervous chatter*

*Growing anxiety*

It was precisely this unyielding lack of response that finally broke something in the crowd, as fear curdled into panic and panic into frantic self-preservation, prompting some to shout their names, their titles, and their lifelong achievements, as they clung on to their status and reputation as if credentials might somehow outweigh orders forged by military doctrine and divine command.

"I am Director Halven of the Universal Trade Consortium," one man yelled, his voice shrill with desperation as he thrust his identification forward, hands shaking violently, "I have personally stabilized the economies of twelve core worlds, you cannot abandon me here."

He shouted, as his words struck unmoving armor and fell away without effect, swallowed by the silence of the Fourth Ring.

"I am Professor Liora Vance, head of Righteous Faction research facility on Hedimbrough," another cried out, her composure shattering as she gestured emphatically, "without me, entire technological divisions will collapse, you owe me protection."

She said, as her voice cracked under the weight of her own fear.

Still, the Fourth Ring did not yield.

As no matter the title or contribution, no-one was allowed through.

"I apologize, professor,"

A Fourth Ring Commander eventually said, as he decided to speak on behalf of all other soldiers.

"It is not that the Righteous Faction army does not wish to protect you all, or that I have any personal vendetta against you.

If I could, I would let all of you civilians be behind me rather than in front, however, my orders here are strict and absolute...."

He continued, as his eyes did not soften even slightly.

"Beyond the Fourth Ring lies the core of the Chakravyuh, manned by Gods and Demi-Gods," he said, as the weight of his words pressed down harder than any visible aura, "and no one is permitted to approach it."

He paused briefly.

"No one at all....

Whether ally or enemy."

He finished, as his tone remained unchanged through to the end.

*Murmurs*

*Nervous chatter*

For a while, the distinguished guests all looked at one another in confusion, as though waiting for someone else to speak up and diffuse this tense situation.

However, as minutes passed and nobody did anything, the color started to drain from the guest’s faces in unison, hope collapsing almost audibly as those present finally understood that their status, wealth, and influence meant nothing here.

Some screamed.

Others sobbed.

A few, driven beyond reason, surged forward in a final attempt at survival, pushing their bodies uselessly against Monarch-tier shields that did not so much as tremble, their hands slipping against reinforced armor as though trying to shove a mountain aside.

"I built half the infrastructure you rely on," one man shouted, his voice cracking as he pressed forward, desperation bleeding into every word.

"You cannot let me die like this!"

He cried, as his plea dissolved into the surrounding chaos, swallowed by shoving bodies and overlapping screams, yet none of it mattered, because the Monarchs did not budge even an inch, their formation remaining absolute and unmoved, as trillions across the universe watched the scene unfold live, witnessing for the first time the unfiltered reality behind the Righteous Faction they had revered for generations.