The Deadly Assassin Robin

Chapter 1239 A Magnificent End

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For 20 days, the Borcalis night sky had been ravaged by blizzards. Then, suddenly, the storm stopped.

The thick, ancient clouds, once suffocating the land, cracked open. A brilliant, searing white light pierced through the darkness.

A full moon emerged, its icy glow cutting through the night.

Thousands of stars followed, each burning fiercely in the brief moment between seconds.

The moon’s cold rays washed over the endless snowfield.

The thick smoke still coiled in the air, heavy with the stench of death.

Blood had frozen, solidifying into jagged ice.

Lifeless bodies, torn apart by explosions, littered the frozen wasteland.

Each shattered corpse was a stark reminder: peace had never existed here.

The law of survival had always been simple: the strong survive, the weak fall.

Civilization? Harmony? Beauty? Illusions. Mere facades built by the powerful to conceal the truth.

Only those at the top knew the unflinching reality. In the end, the strongest fist decided everything.

Moonlight glinted off Gustov’s trembling body, casting a ghostly glow.

His arm–the one that had thrown countless punishing strikes–swelled with visible damage.

He understood now.

Robin had barely used 30% of his power during their exchange.

Had Robin gone all out, Gustov would’ve been nothing but a smear of blood after the first punch.

Gustov’s fury erupted. “Divine Drakebane! Why didn’t you use your full strength? Are you trying to mock me?!”

Robin’s gaze flicked up, his eyebrow arched lazily.

“The reason I didn’t use everything I had,” he said smoothly, “is because I remember the bond you shared with my grandfather, Dragon Lord.”

“Twenty punches of mercy are over.”

“From now on, we fight for our own reasons.” noveldrama

“Get ready. I won’t hold back.”

Gustov froze, his rage replaced by a flicker of respect..

In his battle–hardened eyes, a brief spark of acknowledgment glimmered.

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Chapter 1239 A Magnificent End

He sucked in a deep breath, gathering every ounce of His power.

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His iron fist, forged through countless battles, clenched tighter, the force of 70 years of training coiling in

It.

The punch came like an avalanche–unstoppable, relentless.

Gustov charged, his boots tearing through the frozen carth, leaving deep craters in his wake.

With every step, his massive frame rebounded, lifting three mor

with each strike of his foot.

Beneath the cold moonlight, his hair whipped violently behind him.

He was a god of war, descending from the heavens.

He raised his fist, the raw, deadly power of centuries packed into the blow. It slammed toward Robin.

Robin stood unmoving, like a mountain, unshaken. With a single hand, he met Gustov’s furious strike.

The impact was deafening.

A crack tore through the air.

Even the distant moon trembled, as if it, too, had felt the shockwave.

Gustov’s massive body flew backward, soaring a hundred feet backward, his arm disintegrating midair into a spray of blood under the full moon’s gaze.

Robin was already in motion, leaping through the air like a missile, charging for the fallen war god.

Before Gustov could even brace himself, Robin’s fist slammed into his chest.

The sound of it was sickening.

Gustov’s broad chest caved in with a sickening thud.

Blood erupted from his mouth, staining the pure moonlight.

The silver glow of the moon was drowned in deep crimson–like a blade stained with blood, lost in its path.

With a flick of his wrist, Robin sent Gustov’s nearly six–foot–five frame flying another 150 feet, crashing to the ground with brutal force.

The world fell still. Silent.

Robin’s footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate, as he approached the struggling god of war.

Each step was a countdown. A toll. A death bell ringing louder with each stride.

The Tanqueria officials, frozen in place, felt their hearts rise in their throats.

This was the end of a legend.

The legend of Tanqueria’s Cod of War shattered before their evec

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Chapter 1239 A Magnificent End

Tension hung in the air, thick as smoke, the calm before the storm.

One spark. One mistake.

And the world would crupt in a bloodbath that would go down in history.

Thomas stood still, his eyes sharp and unwavering.

His heart pounded in his chest, out of control.

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He wanted to move, to stop Robin. But Zayden stepped in his way. “Mr. Morrison, think this through. Your arrogance might just get you killed by that monster’s fist.”

A chill ran down Thomas’s spine.

It hit him. Divine Drakebane was no one a diplomat like him could sway.

The battle unfolding was the fight of the planet’s strongest warriors.

He, a pawn who had risen through favors, had no right to intervene.

This was a conversation only the strongest could have.

Not something those who showed strength for show could ever understand.

This was an unbridgeable gap.

Only blood, only battle, could define the honor of the strong.

The cold Borealis wind screamed again, sending waves of ice and snow spiraling through the air.

Gustov inhaled deeply, pushing through the storm. The light of the distant moon sliced through the swirling clouds.

He struggled to rise, planting himself firmly in the snow.

Amidst the swirling snow, his gaze lifted toward Divine Drakebane.

Gustov knew. He had failed his mission. Tanqueria’s honor had been crushed beneath his feet.

But there was no sadness.

Success or failure no longer mattered.

To face Divine Drakebane, to stand against the peak of strength-

was an honor.

He waited for à glorious end, to leave this life beneath Drakebane’s fist.

A quiet peace filled him.

The glory, the burdens, the fleeting fame–he had shed it all.

He had fallen into the dust, where all things end.

The world the clouds the and lace chu au

verthing ceased co distant

Chapter 1239 A Magnificent End

All the grudges, the allegiances, the honor of his nation–they meant nothing now.

In the blink of a shooting star, it all felt like illusion.

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Gustov laughed darkly, his voice cutting through the blood–drenched air. “Divine Drakebane, show me what you’ve got.”

Robin raised his fist, calm and detached.

Then a voice thundered through a loudspeaker, distorted by the roar of engines.

“Wait!” the voice bellowed. “I’m Valdemar, Director of Tanqueria’s National Security Bureau. Divine Drakebane, you’re surrounded!”

“Tanqueria Palace has given me its authorization. If you continue this, we reserve the right to use unconventional nuclear weapons to terminate you!”