Chapter 89: The Grim Reaper Descends

Ahhhh! Ahhhh!

Two agonized screams ripped through the street, cutting through the chaos like knives. The crowd’s attention snapped to the left, momentarily pulling their gaze from the carnage unfolding before them.

Dragged across the cobblestones were the Level 12 Archers, their limbs mangled, bones twisted and shattered.

Their jaws were dislocated under the immense force of the hooded figures’ attacks. Blood and grit smeared their faces as they groaned in excruciating pain.

The two hooded figures who had returned to finish the job left behind a crimson trail, casually tossing the injured archers at Thoren’s feet as if they were nothing more than broken logs.

Thoren’s eyes remained cold and indifferent, scanning the battlefield ahead. He did not glance at the mangled bodies, nor did he react to their groans. His focus was absolute, on the remaining guild members.

He had chosen to employ his high-level undead servants to crush any opposition.

Of the ten he commanded, the two leading figures were Level 16 Stonewall High Nobles, their strength undisputed. Against them, a mere Level 15 Warrior would have no hope.

Beneath their blackened robes, they bore Middle Iron Grade armor, capable of deflecting ordinary attacks.

Though they were fearless and immune to pain, Thoren had armed them to the teeth. Weapons and armor in tandem made them capable of decimating hundreds of enemies each.

He came to test them with the Silver Crest Guild’s members and the results had been predictably horrifying.

Ahhh! Ahhh!

A Level 11 Spell Caster failed to react in time.

A lethal strike cleaved her body in two, her scream cutting short as she collapsed into a pool of her own blood. The splatter looked like a broken dam, shocking even hardened awakeners.

Those watching could not bear to continue staring. Fear gnawed at their hearts like a living thing.

Thoren’s message was clear…

When he strikes, he strikes to end it all.

“P-Please…help us…”

A Level 13 Tank skidded backward as his shield cracked under the recoil of the enemy’s blade. His muscles tore painfully from the force, blood oozing from his split lips.

Despair colored his face. His eyes roamed desperately, searching for even a single ally who might rise against the Grim Reaper.

But there was none.

The same scene that had unfolded with the Ghost Scream Bounty Hunter repeated itself before him. They were alone. Their guildmates may sympathize, but no one would risk their necks for them.

Before the Tank could formulate a plan, another deadly strike sliced through the air.

Ahhhhh!

He screamed, flung backward, and crashed into the guild building. His shield shattered into fragments, leather armor shredded, revealing ruptured insides. A guttural sound escaped his throat as regret washed over him.

’Why didn’t I escape when I had the chance?’

Many believed they could defeat the Grim Reaper. He had once thought the same.

But now, he knew the truth.

He was a Level 13 Tank with a defensive hidden skill, and it had all been meaningless.

Three strikes—and he was finished.

Their Guildmaster fared even worse. Two strikes, and he lay incapacitated, a useless husk before the Grim Reaper’s unyielding wrath.

Their fame. Their skill. Their experience. All meaningless.

He winced once, then his eyes dulled, lifeless.

“P-Please don’t kill me!”

A female Level 12 healer cried, her voice shaking, tears plastering her cheeks. “I-I will do anything you want!”

She had joined the Silver Crest Guild hoping to survive the Abyss. Many of her peers had been jealous, wishing they could claim her safety and position.

Now, she wished she had never been chosen.

If only I had stayed outside the city…

Regret, fear, and unwillingness burned in her chest. She cursed her Guildmaster, her guildmates, and everyone who had provoked the Grim Reaper.

Watching her, the remaining spectators clenched their fists. Knuckles turned white. Yet a helpless sigh escaped their lips…against such a monster, they could do nothing.

She was young, beautiful, and innocent.

No one wanted her to die like this.

Yet here she was.

“Will he…truly kill her?”

“She’s a high-level healer. An asset to him.”

Whispers spread among the awakeners.

Then the answer came.

A hooded figure approached, sword glistening with fresh blood.

The healer wailed and stumbled backward, tripping and falling onto her butt.

Her cries grew louder, desperate, pleading.

Everyone held their breath.

The hooded figure raised the blade, poised to deliver the final judgment.

“STOP!”

A commanding voice thundered from behind.

All heads turned.

“Finally…they’re here.”

A collective sigh of relief rippled through the crowd.

But just as hope sparked, it died.

The hooded figure struck.

Splash!

The blade sliced her throat cleanly. Blood gushed onto the stone ground like a broken pipe, spraying her hands, robes, and the floor in a crimson tide.

Her expression, once desperate with hope, froze in shock as life drained from her eyes.

Even with reinforcements arriving, she had not escaped the Grim Reaper.

The horror spread across the crowd.

Heads turned, eyes widened. Many realized that if he could kill her, he could kill anyone.

By now, less than five guild members remained alive, each barely clinging to their life. Their bodies trembled, wounds gaping, armor shredded.

The Guildmaster groaned, pain etched into every line of his face. He clutched at his bleeding from multiple wounds.

His gaze lifted toward the new arrival, his only glimmer of hope and he clung to it desperately, praying that salvation had finally come.

’With their arrival, I don’t believe he can continue his evil killing.’ He thought, his heart pounding.

Apart from them, he did not believe anyone could save them.

Allies had failed them.

But he believed the people that arrived wouldn’t fail them.

There is too much at stake right now. And if they were to fail them, they would lose everything.

Arin and his guild member stared at the new arrival with conflicted expression.

“The situation had just turned worse.” he muttered.

In another hidden corner, Rowena bites the corner of her lips. “Will he truly let them live because they arrived.”

Even though she was not close with Thoren, from what she know about him. She doubted he would let them go.

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