Edge of the Apocalypse
Chapter 557: The Night Of Death

This is a good opportunity for your Demonic Crow Feather.

Help me get rid of this person. In the future, this territory can accept your existence. Your chances of getting a job will increase dramatically. How about it? Think about it?

He's just a rank 18 knight. Could it be that with your Demon Crow's strength, you can't take him down?

Those words flowed in George's heart. They were like fine streams of silk that eventually converged into a pool of water that made him sink. Until the moment before the operation began, he did not find the task very troublesome. Just like that person said, with the strength of the Demonic Crow, eating a Level 18 Jazz was not a piece of cake, but it was not difficult to swallow.

Only now did he know that it was a ball of flame that he couldn't eat. Because if you barely eat it, you'll explode to pieces.

There were two more fog crows, but they were smaller. Its purpose was not to kill, but to detonate the shadows formed by flames. The last flame shadow was blasted apart by George's frenzied mist plume. After the explosion, the fog on the street was swept away. The air here was blazing hot and dry, like a desert under a blazing sun. Georgie felt her face twitch, and the muscles on her face were a little uncontrollable, so they formed a hysterical smile.

The smoke from the explosion was blown away and George saw two charred corpses belonging to the Cade and Cage brothers. Then he saw Alan, who had two more knives in his hand. One was long and the other was short. The long blade was pitch black like ink. The ink was so dense that it seemed like it was about to drip down from the blade. However, the hilt of the blade was wrapped in white cloth. Compared to the blade, it was so strong that it made one's eyes dazzle. The short saber that Alan held in his palm was short and long. The tip of the saber was thin and pointed like a bayonet. The blade's body was bloody red, as if it had just been extracted from a human body. The blade's body was still covered in blood that carried a body temperature.

Black and red, long and short. It was simple and deep, but it brought with it the aura of death.

The black blade was nailed to Elaine's chest. The usually explosive woman was now like a lazy cat curled up in a winter's day. Her clean arm was still grabbing the hem of Ellen's trousers, but she was sitting on the ground with her body shrunk. The black saber pierced through her chest, one end in Allen's hand and the other end dripping with crimson blood.

That's a woman's blood.

She silently approached Ellen, but she was able to break through the stealth ability of the heat flames created by the explosion of the fire shadow. When she saw Allen's burning eyes cast a smiling gaze, all Elaine could do was to use all her strength and let the poisoned dagger in her hand stab into Allen's heart as quickly as possible.

But the black saber was like a venomous snake, drilled into her body faster than her, and it was all over. She didn't even know when the dagger in Allen's hand had turned into two knives of different lengths and colors.

Of course, she wouldn't know. That was the Death hymn, the devil's gesture of praising the third stage of awakening. The black saber was long and thin, and the red saber was short and sharp. There was almost no unnecessary decoration on their bodies. Their styles were simple, their colors were strong, and they were pure to the extreme. They were another kind of beauty.

Alan pulled the black knife out of Elaine's chest. It was as light as air, passing through the muscles, bones, and nerves of a woman without any hindrance. Without the support of the blade, the corpse that had lost its life collapsed to the ground. Under the residual flames of the surrounding ground, Elaine's skin became dry and relaxed, as if she had aged several decades in the blink of an eye.

Her life force and blood essence surged into the black blade like a tidal wave at the moment of death. The Abyss Devil gave a full meal of praise.

Alan looked at George. This was the last killer. Level 20, not bad, but that's all. The Level 20 George wasn't even a threat to Alan.

Even though he's only level 19.

"Kill him … Kill him!" George shouted, his pupils dilated with fear. He pointed at Alan, but he quickly retreated. Within his retreating line of sight, the buildings on the left and right continuously jumped down. The twenty killers on the streets surged towards Allen like a tide. Their figures quickly covered Allen.

However, it was quickly enveloped by a mist.

Threads of red light flashed through the black, deep mist. The mist spread, spreading, engulfing all the killers of the Demonic Crow Feather. The fog was churning, and the screams of the killers could be heard from inside. George didn't know what these well-trained assassins would encounter or see before letting out these frightened cries.

The world is still going backwards.

The surging fog chased after him like a nightmare. From the dense fog that was constantly spreading, an assassin suddenly rushed out. He reached out to George as if the drowning man was trying to catch a life-saving log. His eyes were filled with eager anticipation, and the fog was chasing after him. Very quickly, black mist that flickered with red light entangled him again. The rolling air currents were like the hands of a devil that held onto the killer.

George could clearly see that the skin on the killer's face quickly lost its luster. They became loose, withered and yellow, and dark spots appeared one after another. It was as if time had been stolen in an instant, and the killer had suddenly aged tens of years. The originally thick hair quickly withered and turned yellow. It fell down like an old tree that had lost all its leaves in late autumn, and its body emitted the aura of an old man.

He was eventually dragged into the fog.

The fog spread and occupied every corner of George's field of vision. By the time he reacted, he was already enveloped in fog. The ubiquitous aura filled his body like millions of insects and ants, and he tried his best to drill into his body. George shouted as he continued to eject the fog feathers. They tried to blow up the fog that had summoned death, but all their efforts were in vain.

George shouted hysterically, "What the hell are these!"

"Decaying mist" Alan's voice came from the depths of the mist.

George followed his voice and saw a faint blush in the deep fog, followed by Alan's figure. Alan walked over from the mist, his figure faintly discernible in the mist. The long black saber in his hand had disappeared, and the remaining red saber occasionally flowed with a layer of luster that was like fresh blood. Alan walked over to George and squatted down, looking at the man who had lost all sense of propriety. "They rot everything and condense the long hours of death into snapping fingers. This is the domain of Reaper."

"Reaper's domain?" George raised his hand and instinctively pushed Ellen away. Suddenly, he saw the back of his hand. At some point, his skin was covered in wrinkles. Blood vessels floated like green earthworms, with yellow patches on them: "No, no, no! Oh, no. It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be like this …"

The battle on the streets finally caught the attention of the city guards. When a group of soldiers arrived, the fog that had decayed everything was shrinking. They tumbled violently and gathered in Allen's palm, reforming the long and thin black blade. Alan held the two black and red sabers in his hands, and under his feet and behind him, there were corpses lying one by one.

These corpses were all 70-80 year old people without exception.

George is not dead, but his face is wrinkled like bark. He sat blankly on the ground, as if for some reason Alan had let him go. Ellen bent down and whispered in his ear, "Go tell Rackett that if he continues to provoke me, then you are his future."

Alan straightened up and walked past him. George heard the soldier ask, "Sir Allen, are you alright?"

"Nothing much. I just carelessly took care of a few annoying insects." Alan's voice sounded calm.

That indifference made George's heart freeze.

The next day, sharp whistles could be heard from time to time throughout Ark Harbor. Lucy leaned against the window and complained to Ellen, who was sitting behind her on the sofa reading a thick book, "It's so noisy. When will they stop?"

"I didn't know Earl Gills would react so fiercely." Alan waved his hands with an innocent expression.

This morning, after learning that Alan had been attacked last night. Earl Gills' reaction could be described as anger. First of all, the guards on duty last night, the captain, and their superiors had all been removed from their posts. Several officers were thrown into prison on the grounds that, for their negligence, Earl Gills' closest ally had been attacked, and had taken place before their very eyes.

Following Gills' request for a thorough investigation, the Blood Eye Mercenary Group, which was responsible for the safety of Ark Harbor, received the highest level of enforcement. As a result, groups of guards rushed into several docks, hotels, and bars. Anyone who had any questions would be arrested and interrogated, and the sound of the whistle had not stopped since the morning.

The commotion lasted for three days.

On the morning of the fourth day, Alan boarded the Sea Dragon, a merchant ship bound for Violet Harbor. There were only a few people who returned to Storm City with him this time, except for Lucy and Adele, only Regis and Belmore. Others, such as Roy and Broy, had responsibilities and stayed in the important cities of Dawn Castle and Bauhinia Territory.

At nine o'clock, the merchant ship retracted its anchor and departed from the pier in the mountains. Alan held the railings on the ship's side and stood on the deck, staring at the harbor.

"Are you unwilling to leave?" Lucy, who was standing beside him, pulled up her hair that had been blown away by the sea breeze and looked at Alan.

"How could that be?" "We'll be back," Alan laughed. "But if we come back, everything will be different."

Right at this moment, an abrupt bell rang from the direction of the Ark Harbor. The low, long bell echoed in the city and floated to the surface of the sea. Hearing the sound of the bell, the people on board stopped no matter what they were doing. Everyone paid close attention to the frequency of the bell, and it eventually turned into a silent sigh.

Ellen sighed and bowed deeply in the direction of the city.

It was the death knell, and since it sounded like this, there was only one thing that could be said.

Earl Orban is dead!

The story would continue, but there was no more man who wanted to revive the family.