The Greatest Assassin Gets Reincarnated in Tensura

Now that Guy Crimson had taken notice of the brewing conflict between Clayman, Carrion, and Frey, things had become far more interesting.

I leaned back in my seat, swirling a glass of wine while my spies—each an extension of my will—watched and listened from the shadows of the three Demon Lords' domains.

In Clayman's castle, my spy blended seamlessly with the many mindless puppets that adorned his halls. Disguised as one of Clayman's many servants, my spy had the perfect vantage point to observe the paranoid marionette master unraveling.

Clayman paced across his lavish chamber, his once composed and theatrical demeanor now cracking. His wine sat untouched on the table, and the puppet-like monster in his lap twitched unnaturally as he absentmindedly stroked its head.

Across from him, Laplace sat with his legs propped up, twirling a dagger between his fingers.

"So, boss," Laplace said lazily, "ya sure 'bout this? I mean, Frey ain't exactly the type to play nice, and Carrion? Well, he ain't gonna sit back while ya try to pull his strings."

Clayman sneered, his usual arrogant smirk returning despite the clear nervous energy beneath it. "That muscle-headed beast is a fool. And Frey? She's cautious—she won't act without thinking. I have the advantage here."

But my spy could see it. The cracks in Clayman's confidence.

The defeat of Gelmud, the unexpected watchers that had beaten Footman and Tear, and now his plan turning into a three-way battle? He was losing control, and he knew it.

He slammed his hand against the table. "It's all going according to plan."

Laplace just smiled, but his eyes held a flicker of doubt.

Not even Clayman's own allies fully believed in him anymore.

In Eurazania, the Beast Kingdom, my spy hid among the many warriors preparing for war. Unlike Clayman's secretive scheming, Carrion was a man of action.

The massive warriors of Eurazania were sharpening their weapons, their beastly roars echoing across the land. The air buzzed with the anticipation of battle.

At the heart of it all stood Carrion himself, a towering figure with golden lion-like hair, his arms crossed as he listened to his subordinates' reports.

"Frey hasn't made a move yet?" he asked. His voice was calm, but my spy could sense the restrained aggression behind it.

One of his Three Beastkeeters, Phobio, stepped forward and slammed a fist to his chest. "No, Lord Carrion! She remains silent for now, but we cannot trust her. She could betray us at any moment!"

Carrion narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. He wasn't reckless like Clayman—he knew that a battle against two Demon Lords at once was dangerous, even for him.

"And Clayman?"

Albis, the golden snake woman and another of his Three Beastkeeters, grinned. "He's getting desperate. Our spies say he's preparing for an attack, but he underestimates us."

Carrion smirked. "Good. Then we'll strike before he gets the chance."

Unlike Clayman, who hid behind puppets and deception, Carrion would face his enemies head-on.

Frey, the Winged Demon Lord, had always been the most enigmatic of the three. While Clayman plotted and Carrion rallied his warriors, Frey remained still. Watching. Waiting.

My spy, positioned among her attendants, observed her sitting gracefully on her throne, her massive wings folded behind her, eyes half-lidded as she listened to a report from her advisors.

Unlike the chaos in the other domains, Frey's palace was quiet. Cold. Calculated.

"So Clayman believes he can manipulate me." Her voice was like ice, calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.

Her advisor, a bird-like humanoid, bowed his head. "Yes, my Lady. His spies believe you are hesitating."

Frey chuckled—a sound that sent a shiver down my spy's spine. "Hesitating? No. I simply see no need to rush."

She tapped her delicate fingers against the armrest of her throne. "Carrion is predictable. Clayman is desperate. If they fight, both will weaken themselves."

She was waiting.

Frey was no fool—she knew that whoever struck first would become vulnerable. She was letting them wear each other down before she made her move.

A true tactician.

Sitting in my own domain, watching the three Demon Lords move like pieces on a chessboard, I couldn't help but smile.

Clayman, desperate and paranoid.

Carrion, proud and reckless.

Frey, patient and calculating.

All of them were dancing to my unseen hand.

Velzard, lounging beside me, chuckled as she sipped her wine. "So? What do you think?"

Testarossa smirked. "Clayman will move first. It's in his nature."

Ultima grinned. "Carrion will hit him like a hammer the moment he does."

Carrera crossed her arms. "And Frey will pick apart the remains."

I took a slow sip of my drink, eyes gleaming. "Yes… and when the dust settles, we'll be the only ones who truly win."

The stage was set.

Now, all that remained was for the actors to play their parts.

----____----

Leon Cromwell, the Platinum Devil, sat in his grand throne within El Dorado, his golden fortress. With his Ultimate Skill: Metatron, Lord of Purity, he believed himself untouchable.

He was wrong.

His summoning experiments had continued for too long, bringing children from other worlds to fuel his obsession with Chloe. I had tolerated his actions long enough.

Tonight, he would learn why the shadows were feared.

I summoned my Eminence in the Shadow—Velzard, Testarossa, Ultima, and Carrera—and we moved.

El Dorado was a city that never slept, but tonight, darkness consumed it.

The streets fell silent. The moonlight was swallowed by an unnatural void.

Then, the first scream echoed through the air.

Velzard descended first, a howling blizzard swallowing the central district. Ice crept over golden towers, turning them to frozen monuments of fear.

Then, the shadows moved.

Testarossa, Ultima, and Carrera appeared like ghosts in the wind, their black cloaks swirling, masks concealing their smiles of death.

Leon's elite knights rushed to the castle gates, weapons drawn—only for their bodies to be sliced apart in the next instant.

Testarossa walked through their corpses without a sound, her red eyes gleaming through the darkness.

Carrera laughed, firing silent beams of energy, reducing guard towers to dust.

Ultima twirled a dagger, vanishing before reappearing behind a fleeing mage, whispering: "Goodnight." Before his body exploded.

El Dorado was under siege.

And no one had even seen their attackers.

Leon stood in his throne room, waiting.

His eyes were calm, but his aura flared. Wings of golden energy extended from his back, his silver sword glowing with divine light.

"I knew you would come," he muttered. "Show yourselves."

The shadows obeyed.

Velzard materialized first, stepping forward with absolute cold radiating from her form. Behind her, Testarossa, Ultima, and Carrera emerged from the void, their black cloaks billowing.

The castle walls creaked under the pressure of their combined presence.

Leon did not waver.

"I will not fall so easily," he declared, his golden aura surging.

With a single step, he vanished—reappearing above us, sword descending in a flash of divine power.

Velzard simply raised a finger.

A wave of absolute zero erupted, freezing the air itself, forcing Leon to retreat mid-strike. His golden energy cracked the ice, but the frost clung to him.

"You have power," Testarossa mused. "But not enough."

She vanished.

Leon barely had time to react before Testarossa reappeared behind him, her hand piercing through his stomach.

Blood dripped from her fingers.

Leon's eyes widened—then narrowed in fury. A burst of divine energy blasted her away, regenerating his wound instantly.

"Metatron: Holy Blade."

A column of pure, searing energy erupted from his sword, slashing through the room, aiming straight for Velzard.

She did not move.

The attack collided—only to be snuffed out instantly as if it never existed.

Velzard exhaled.

A gust of freezing air blasted Leon backward, his armor cracking under the frost.

Ultima appeared mid-air above him. "Boom."

A sphere of violet energy detonated, blasting Leon through the golden walls of his throne room.

Carrera was already waiting outside.

As Leon tumbled, she fired an energy beam straight at him. At the last moment, he twisted, slashing through the attack with Metatron.

He landed, panting.

But the Eminence in Shadow had not even begun.

Leon tried to stand, but the temperature kept dropping. Frost coated his limbs, slowing his movements.

Velzard stepped forward.

"You are strong, Leon." Her voice was absolute. "But you are alone."

Leon gritted his teeth.

"I refuse to fall." His wings of light flared again—

But this time, a black shadow overtook him.

Testarossa, Ultima, and Carrera moved at once.

Ultima appeared at his side, slicing through his ribs.

Testarossa touched his shoulder, her death aura sinking into his flesh.

Carrera shot a microbeam straight through his leg.

Leon collapsed, coughing blood.

Velzard knelt before him, grabbing his face.

Her eyes were merciless.

"This is your punishment."

She froze his entire body—except for his heart.

Leon could not move. He could only listen.

"You will stop your summoning," I whispered from the shadows, my presence unseen yet suffocating. "Or next time, we won't stop."

Leon said nothing.

He couldn't.

Testarossa leaned down, smiling. "If you break your word, we will erase this city."

Ultima giggled. "And you."

Carrera pointed her finger at the sky— and fired.

A beam of destruction erupted into the heavens, shattering the very clouds.

Leon watched.

He understood.

Velzard released him, and his frozen body thawed just enough for him to breathe.

"Your choice, Leon," I said.

He bowed his head.

He knew he had lost.

And with that, we vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a broken Demon Lord and a city that would never forget our power.

Leon Cromwell's summoning had ended.