Chapter 69: The Three Styles of Hades

A chilling voice suddenly arose, "I think you need not go, for I have already arrived." A figure slowly emerged from the dark corner of the gate, gradually becoming clearer under the dim moonlight. It was a person entirely clad in black scales, with black hair cascading down his back, an expressionless face that was not particularly handsome, and a relentless cold killing intent emanating from him. Most surprisingly, nestled in the leather bag at his chest was a shortsword not even a foot long, with a black gem on its hilt that shimmered with a sinister glow, seemingly drawing in the souls of everyone present. A faint evil aura continuously spread from the center of the sword's hilt. Horton gasped, the person he least wanted to encounter had still appeared.