Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 112

CHAPTER 106 PART 2

He launched forward with speed that would have impressed a master martial artist-closing the fifteen feet between them in less than a second, his palm strike aimed at Marcus’s throat with killing precision.

Marcus moved faster.

Dragon-enhanced speed turned Fujita’s “lightning-fast” attack into something Marcus could have countered while half-asleep. He stepped inside the assassin’s guard, his own palm shooting forward with ancient power crackling invisibly around his hand.

The strike caught Fujita square in the chest.

The impact sent the assassin flying backward, his feet leaving the ground as dragon power-carefully restrained but still overwhelming-launched him through the air like a cannonball. Fujita crashed through a stack of wooden pallets twenty feet away, splinters exploding outward.

“What-“Fujita gasped, struggling to his feet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “That speed—that power-the intelligence said you were weak! Just a civilian with dangerous connections!”

“Intelligence is often wrong,” Marcus said calmly, walking toward the assassin with measured steps. “Especially when the target deliberately spreads misinformation.”

Rage replaced shock in Fujita’s expression. His earlier arrogance had been shattered by a single exchange, and his professional pride couldn’t tolerate the humiliation. He charged again-this time with killing intent fully unleashed, his hands curled into claws capable of tearing through flesh and bone.

“Die!” Fujita’s claw strike carved through the air toward Marcus’s face, fast enough to decapitate an ordinary human.

Marcus bent backward with dragon-enhanced flexibility that made his spine curve at angles that should have been anatomically impossible. The claw passed millimeters above his nose, so close he felt the displaced air.

Then Marcus’s leg shot up in a devastating kick that caught Fujita under the chin.

Dragon power flowed through the strike-not enough to kill, but enough to hurt. Fujita’s head snapped back, more blood spraying from his mouth, and he stumbled three steps before catching himself.

“You-you bastard!” Fujita’s hand finally went to his sword, drawing the curved blade with a sharp ring of steel. ” I’ll cut you into pieces! Three-Blade Slash!”

The legendary technique erupted with blinding speed. Fujita’s blade became a blur, moving in patterns designed to create unavoidable killing strikes from three simultaneous angles. The technique had slaughtered dozens of opponents-even experienced cultivators fell before its relentless assault.

Marcus’s dragon instincts mapped every trajectory before the blade completed its arc. He stepped between strikes with casual precision, his hands occasionally deflecting the sword’s path with calculated taps that sent vibrations up Fujita’s arms.

“Predictable,” Marcus observed. “Your third strike always comes from the right at forty-five degrees. Sloppy.”

“Shut Up!” Fujita poured everything into the next exchange, his blade moving faster, harder, carving chunks from concrete and slicing through steel rebar like butter.

Marcus waited for the precise moment-the fractional second when Fujita committed fully to his final strike— and moved.

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His fist, wreathed in barely visible dragon fire, met the sword mid-swing. The impact rang like a bell, and the blade flew from Fujita’s nerveless fingers to embed itself in a concrete pylon fifteen feet away.

“Impossible,” Fujita gasped, staring at his empty hands.

Marcus’s other fist slammed into the assassin’s back-right between the shoulder blades-with dragon power that cracked ribs and damaged internal organs without quite killing.

Fujita collapsed to his knees, coughing blood, his legendary Three-Blade Slash interrupted and his body broken.” This… this isn’t over…”

Before Marcus could respond, Fujita’s form suddenly wavered-a ninjutsu technique that created visual distortion. Smoke bombs erupted around him, and when the smoke cleared three seconds later, the assassin was

gone.

Escaped, Marcus thought with mild annoyance. Should have hit him harder.

But Fujita Tooi didn’t get far.

From the darkness came sharp whistles-the sound of metal slicing through air at high velocity. Silver needles- thin as hairs, gleaming with liquid that definitely wasn’t water-pierced through Fujita’s smoke cloud with unerring accuracy.

The assassin’s scream was cut short as needles found his throat, his heart, his spine. He crashed to the ground ten feet from where he’d tried to escape, his body convulsing as poison raced through his bloodstream.

In the woods beyond the wharf, the Five Tigers watched through binoculars with professional interest.

“Nine-Turn Heavenly Spirit Needles,” Vincent “Apex” Taylor said quietly. “The Queen’s signature weapon.”

“Fujita’s dead,” Derek “Fang” Morrison observed. “That poison works in seconds.”

“Which means she’s here,” James “Claw” Patterson added. “And she just eliminated competition.”

A figure emerged from the tree line-female, mid-twenties, moving with grace that suggested years of deadly training. She wore elegant dark clothing that somehow avoided looking theatrical, a curved scimitar strapped to her back, and carried herself with the confidence of someone who’d never lost a fight.

Her face was beautiful in that cold, sharp way that made men simultaneously attracted and terrified. Dark eyes assessed Marcus with calculating precision, noting his unmarked clothing, his relaxed posture, the complete absence of fear in his expression.

“Marcus Steel,” she said, her voice carrying mocking amusement. “A hundred million dollar bounty, and you stand here alone like bait waiting for predators.”

“And yet the predator who came for me is currently dying on the ground,” Marcus replied calmly. “Poisoned by needles that shouldn’t have been necessary if you truly mastered the technique.”

The woman froze mid-step.

“What did you say?” Her voice had lost its mocking edge, replaced by sharp attention.

“The Nine-Turn Heavenly Spirit Needles,” Marcus continued, his dragon eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.” Legendary hidden weapon that requires perfect control of internal energy to wield effectively. When used correctly, the needles kill through precision alone-no poison required. The fact that you coat yours with toxins proves you haven’t reached the ninth turn yet.”

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