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Arrows rained down. (The fastest update speed is in Aishang Novel Network biquge.info) 56 novels

Even if it was just a sparse light rain in the spring, it was just as terrifying, the three-edged arrows, scattered condescendingly from dozens of feet, hung on the assassins, all they brought up were a puff of blood and dull screams, and a dozen battle-hardened veterans were slaughtered like helpless quails, and the armor of the city guards they used to camouflage was simply unstoppable, and the speed of pride was impossible to exert in this narrow alley!

The only thing that is lucky is that this rain of arrows only fell once.

The billowing darkness rolled through the alley like smoke, effectively dispersing the arrows, and the remnants of the killers rolled away like a pardon, the darkness was like a fish in water for them, and with a momentary memory, they could open a path,

“**”

Orlan cursed in his heart, but he ripped open three scrolls as fast as he could, surrounding him with two patches of darkness and a piece of green light.

It should be said that Lady Luck is still by his side and is not far away - he is not involved in the attack at the first time, so he has a lot more reaction time...... As the rain of arrows fell, he grabbed the hand of one of the Assassins and pulled it hard, using his body as a shield. The humanoid shield immediately took on the user's hand. Several arrows were blocked, and although the sharp blade of the close-range shot pierced the human body, the unexpected tenacity of the human body also depleted all the kinetic energy of the arrows.

But Oran didn't feel the slightest joy in his heart that he had escaped his life.

From the moment the dozen or so figures appeared, his heart seemed to have invaded a basin of ice water, the reinforcements that did not appear, the calm attitude of the target, and the arrows that fell from the sky. It is enough to show that this is a premeditated ambush, but it is ridiculous that he is still complacent about pulling the target into the trap, but he didn't expect that he stepped into the hard hub arranged by others!

The only explanation is that the plan was leaked...... Who the hell is it?

A chaotic mind can't even think about it,

But now Orlan doesn't even have time to curse - there's no time to scruple too much...... Now, there is only one chance left for him, and if he doesn't grasp it, after just a few blinks, the dark dagger may have to change to the president of the previous term. And he can only become rotten meat with a thousand holes on the edge of the ditch!

The green film of light flicked seven or eight arrows to the side, and Orlan didn't hesitate to hold the talisman around his neck again, and the dark vision that inspired the thick darkness transformed the thick darkness into a clear black and white image in the field of vision—and then the leader of the killer noticed that the target was already close to him! He seemed as unaffected as himself. Darkness had become his weapon - a few guys who had barely escaped from the rain of arrows were desperately fleeing to the left and right alleys with their memories, but the next moment the sharp dagger in his hand pierced their necks!

Orlan didn't look any further, and he scurried to the mouth of the alley as fast as he could. But the moment he got out of the darkness, he felt a sharp stabbing pain coming from his left leg!

The pain wasn't great, but the numbness that followed made Orlan almost fall to the ground, and with a glance out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the tip of an arrow had reached out of his knee, and the spiked arrow almost turned it into a bloody hole!"***" He roared muttered—although he knew that protective arrows were not omnipotent, this kind of bad luck that broke out at the most critical moment was still extremely depressing.

Without thinking about it, he rolled backwards and returned to the darkness. The killer tore off a piece of jewelry on his wrist, and the next moment, his figure disappeared into the circle of light that appeared in front of him!

After a dozen breaths, Orlan was limping down another alley.

Throw away the coat on your body. He swiped a handful of wet hair, and the jets of water dripping down his cheeks were stinking and nauseating, but Orlan didn't care about cursing anything anymore - the spell level of any door was very high, even if it was a very expensive magic item, the exit was also not easy to control, and it was common for it to pass into a wall or fall in mid-air, and it was already extremely lucky to just fall into a stinky ditch like this.

However, the rancid water made the pain in his knees even worse, and Orlan had to convert the few magic spells he had prepared into healing powers. He was able to heal the wound, but he still inevitably limped - the dark gods he believed in were powerful. But when it comes to treatment, it's not very good.

Fortunately, the power of money is still very large, and it costs a gold coin. He got a carriage from the street market, which had begun to be disturbed by the city guards, and sent him to the Gray Deer district at the southern end of the city.

An old man once said that the vast majority of cities, except for a few magnificent palaces and temples, are composed of boundless slums, this sentence is certainly not suitable to describe a royal capital like Romante, but it is undeniable that since the city is formed by the gathering and evolution of people, it is inevitable to bring human shortcomings, bright and dark, always inextricably linked, inseparable,

Compared with the Nine Bells, Ke Lan is as glamorous and beautiful, and the gray deer is the representative of the dark.

There are countless jumble and messy buildings, but they are always just two-story structures of rough leather, timber and rotten tiles, with crumbling shackles stretching out of the street. The walls on both sides of the street were littered with posters, and along with rotting moss, scattered wall-crawlers, and black-hole window lattices, it seemed as if countless patches were covering the dilapidated side street. The ground was still muddy and wet from the heavy rain, and the air smelled of smoke and mold. The pathways are entangled and narrow, like a labyrinth.

Such slums are not uncommon in any city, and for Romandi this is just one of many slum neighborhoods.

But for Oran, the messy streets, muddy earth, and foul air made for an exceptionally comfortable environment, and he jumped out of the carriage. After a few rounds of dark and muddy alleys, I approached a small building in this inconspicuous place.

The wooden floors creaked when stepped on, the railings and door panels were always rocking from side to side, and the freshly washed clothes hung in front of the haphazardly opened windows. It was not the same as the nearby house, but after looking left and right, Orlan flashed into a side door in the wall disguised as a broken wooden plank, and there were no stairs in the small cubicle behind the door. Instead of a square hanging board with a railing, Orlan stood on it, slamming the soles of his boots into a regular series of sounds, and soon after, there was a creak of twisting the wheel. Then the plank under his feet staggered down, and when he disappeared into the room, another plank blocked the exit.

The previous president of the Dark Dagger. Hunter Lane, whom Orlan calls a dead old man, cares deeply about his lair - after twenty years of covert construction and remodeling, a large area of buildings in the Grey Deer District has gradually become a beehive-like labyrinth, with the residents and taverns and inns wrapped around the perimeter as a best cover.

Most fools who have nothing to do with the Dark Dagger will never know that behind the mottled walls or under the rudimentary floors of their homes there may be secret passages or dark chambers, forming a cobweb-like nest that unconsciously weaves through the crude buildings of the neighborhood and beneath the streets. Among them are countless paths that only the cunning gangsters recognize. But even the members of the Dark Daggers may not be able to fully understand the location of the nearby streets—that is a privilege reserved only to the higher-ups.

There are no windows in the underground passage, only oil lamps that burn at intervals illuminate the passage, but the air is still fresh and not stuffy at all.

Walk in it. Orlan didn't let go of it at all.

This tranquility and safety made a chill penetrate deeper into his heart—the fear from his heart made him tremble gently and uncontrollably. It's not that he hasn't experienced failure, it's not that he hasn't been in a life-and-death crisis, but for the rest of his life, he will never forget the feeling he just felt—how close was the irresistible death to him, so close that it danced beside him.

He struggled to unbuckle his collar. Gasping for breath, the psychological fatigue and pressure made him now just want to clean himself up and sleep with his head covered......

But at the end of the corridor there was a guy who made him feel tired just by seeing it, a pale bloodless face on a black coat, which looked like a mask floating in the air in a corner where the light was not very strong—noticing that the green grewman was still limping closer, he made no secret of his gloating tone: "Hello." My Elder Grown...... Looks like the idea is quite handy this time. Is that done?"

"It's none of your business, White. Or are you *** waiting here to laugh at me?" Orlan narrowed his eyes and stared hatefully at the pale Lian, his voice low and hoarse like a piece of rubbing iron.

Although the guy in front of him is nominally his subordinate, in fact Orlan knows it very well. In the dark dagger, people with a little strength are all dissatisfied with each other, and Orlan killed the old man and became the president, but it does not mean that the power of the entire guild is completely under his control now, but it is only strong enough to meet any provocation from within - at least before an hourglass.

The killer clenched his fists, suppressing the trembling of his fingers, and the thoughts that began to flow through his mind allowed anger to begin to fill his body. The killers he brought out this time were all followers who followed him from birth to death and spread their faith, even if the killer could never get a good death. But dying in such a nameless alley still made him feel as uncomfortable as a knife. Especially now that his strength is damaged, he is afraid that he will have to deal with these troublesome provocateurs in front of him.

"Ho-ho-ho...... Don't be angry. The man known as White reached out and touched his pointed nose, which was like a hook, and let out a cold, sharp dry laugh. It was like the howl of a castrated pig or something, and both the sound and the movement made Orlan feel a little like throwing up: "Your Excellency, it seems that we are in a little trouble before you come back, so you better make some preparations." ”

......

......

To be precise, this trouble started before the time of the two hourglass scales.

The side of the Grey Deer district towards the main street may be its most prosperous area, but here you can still see a group of hooligans beating a hapless mercenary with a wooden stick in the back alley, ragged men shouting and begging at pedestrians, wandering magicians performing tricks and then peddling their so-called panacea to everyone, a few congregants who don't know what church are preaching the destruction of the world in the streets, and a little deeper, by tents and corrals, clotheslines across the streets, and a peculiar landscape of gangsters looking for trouble everywhere.

Choking cooking smoke wafted over the streets, along with other ominous smells. The mercenaries were looking for work, and the laughter, screams, the clamor of the crowd, the clanging of shovels, the shouts of "thief!", the shrill whistles of the city guards in pursuit, the barking of dogs, the purring of cats and the neighing of horses were forever in chaos.

But this kind of place is not without the existence of a quieter corner.

Several large black figures stood in the corner of a building, the eaves of which blocked out all sunlight and made large swaths of the surrounding area hazy as night, and only whispered conversations could make one certain that the looming figures, more than seven feet tall, belonged to humans. And the armor they wore on their bodies and the sticks they leaned on beside them brought them closer to the statues that depicted myths and stories in the streets, and a beggar who did not know each other staggered over, but was frightened half to death by the appearance of these fellows before he could open his mouth to them. Flee in a hurry. Even the original lame leg has become flexible.

But in the blink of an eye, there were people walking towards them, and there were quite a few of them.

"Get out of the way. ”

There were more than a dozen of them in this group. The guy at the head shrouded himself in a tight gray robe, and even the lower half of his face was covered in a gray shadow, and he went straight forward, as if he didn't see the ogre-like guards, until the latter gathered around him, and made an impatient sound.

"Bastard, you know what this place is, just go inside? Get out of here!"

"Isn't this the lair of the Dark Dagger?"

Then there was a heavy breath from the darkness around them, and blurred figures appeared from the black shadows one after another, their eyes flashing with a fierce light like a hungry wolf.

"Get your name, what do you want?"

"Trash fish like you need to sign up too?"

"Bastard!" the strange and playful reply caused a big man to let out a beastly roar, "if you don't want to die." "Otherwise, no one will see you coming, and no one will see you leave!"

'Boom'.

As if in response to his threat, mud and stones on the ground exploded.

The huge mace was wrapped in layers of iron on the hazelwood, and finally embedded in the steel nails, and even the best iron armor was vulnerable to attack under his power, and although it had a weakness that could not be used in narrow places, its owner still liked it very much—the feeling of smashing bones and crushing muscles. That kind of cracking sound always makes him happy!

So at this moment he was stunned.

Because he didn't feel the familiar feeling of smashing bones and crushing muscles. I didn't hear that ** cracking sound either...... Of course, he is just trying to intimidate his opponents, and it is normal for him to fail. But what was the strange chill in my throat? And it wasn't all—after the chill had passed, a warm current rushed up, and every part of my throat felt this strange heat wave, and there was some stinging in it. The warm current even began to gush out of the body, extending down the skin!

Sneer......

The others let out a scream.

Because they saw that a dark shadow gently picked at the big man's neck, shallowly opened the arteries, and brought up a sneering fountain of blood!

One sword, one life.

"Bastard!"

Everyone immediately jumped up, they didn't expect that someone would come to their door to make trouble, for a while, the sonorous metal impact was endless, and more than a dozen swords and crossbows were quickly aimed at the dozen people in front of them, in fact, these guys are quite good, although they are just hooligans, but they are obviously the elites who are fed with human lives.

It's just a pity that their opponents are using means that are beyond their comprehension - as they each lock onto their opponents and try to make a beautiful assault, the terrible tremor in their heads has turned them into stakes.

Their mouths opened wide as if they were choked, and their gaze subconsciously fell on the short shadow covered in old gray...... The hood of the grey burqa was slightly raised, and the faces underneath it were still hidden in the shadows, but everyone seemed to feel that a gaze was sweeping over their bodies...... Sharp, cold, like the long sword in the man's hand.

The long sword in his hand was light, not long, not wide, and it didn't seem to have any offensive power...... But those who were on the ground were defenseless - their eyes followed their companions to the ground, and finally fixed on the blood spurting from the arteries, outlining the scarlet streams on the ground...... The splattering, gurgling blood seemed to give people a terrible illusion—as if it was pouring out of their own bodies.

As a result, the hand holding the weapon became cold. The cold penetrated their bodies and captured their hearts...... Stuff something called fear into it

Chapter 56 Door-to-door

Chapter Fifty-Six: Coming to the Door,

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