Dawn Of Legend:Rise Of An Extra



The very soft yet oddly disturbing sound of footsteps echoed in the hall, which stirred the depth of eeriness in one heart.

A momentary silence that persisted in the atmosphere was broken by a harsh voice.

"Leave!"

Frederick, snapping out of his thoughts, coughed violently, taking a mouthful of air, and then looking to the side, noticed Sir Harris standing with his arms folded behind his back.

Just a simple glimpse of him made every fiber of his body scream in danger. On turning back, he saw Rose's sickly pale expression, and following her line of sight, he found two headless corpses afar.

The two corpses were the ones whom Frederick turned a blind eye to, after catching a glimpse of Rose being strangled by an intruder.

Feeling the severity of the situation, Frederick jolted up on his feet and nudged Rose slightly, he ran towards the unconscious Parth.

Lifting him over his shoulder and pulling Rose, he ran away quickly.

After giving Frederick a nod, Harris stood there silently. After Frederick left, his gaze slowly turned towards the intruder, who stared at him with a hateful gaze.

"You… Who are you? I don't feel any mana within you, still your power seemed to be at early 6-Star so how did you cut my hand so nimbly without making others aware of your presence." The intruder cried.

Holding his cut arm, he got up. The winner has not been decided, and he can fix his wrist with the potion later.

Since he was not alone, there was no need to be afraid of this guy.

Harris finally let out a soft chuckle.

"Haa… I can't believe that I have to see such a day."

"A day when even a worthless dog would be daring enough to bark at me."

"Hahahahah!" Harris then burst into laughter.

His creepy laughter made one back tingle in fear.

Harris waved his hand.

The remaining broken bulb burst suddenly, after which the entire area was shrouded in darkness. Except for the gentle rays of moonlight filtering through the ceilings, all sources of light were cut.

TAP! TAP!TAP!TAP!

It was then.....

Staring attentively at the person walking out of the shadow, Olly's heart thumped against his chest violently.

Through the thick veil of darkness, a pair of beastly reddish glow gleamed, and as red as the blood itself, a sword that was likely drenched in the blood of a hundred thousand people appeared out of thin air emitting a thick putrid bloody aura.

At this moment, a certain memory of the distant past buried in his heart resurfaced out of nowhere, which made him doubt his sanity.

Olly was gobsmacked, his body shivered uncontrollably, and his legs gave up as he finally discerned the identity of the human.

R… Red Death… The Mad Demon…

Various names of the person holding a red sword while drinking the enemy's blood appeared in his mind.

That red glowing sword was a symbol in itself.

A symbol that represents a monster…

A symbol that represents terror…

"Why… Why are you here? No, how can you be here?"

"It can't be. You are fake."

"He had died."

As if struck by lightning, his body plunged to the ground. His eyes became blurry, finding himself in a pool of blood from where many bloody hands reached towards him trying to pin him down.

He tried to get a hold of himself and escape from the bloody hands, but the hands grasped him tightly.

"No....."

His mouth was closed by a pair of hands and his eyes trembled on witnessing the man's cold emotionless expression.

The name might have been forgotten now but 20 years ago….

There was an unequivocal law in the underworld. It does not matter whether you are a thief or the greatest criminal in history or a noble.

Anyone belonging to the Black forces knew one thing.

If you are eager to court death, you can try to mess with the Church and even challenge God's authority. If you are a maniac or psychopath, you can just kill yourselves for fun.

But never, in seven hells, you should offend this guy.

Offending him is worse than offending the God of Death. This guy will kill you at the slightest offence regardless of who or what you are. The sheer brutality of his killing by pulling out bones and each nerve cell of your body was enough to take away your sleep.

Sometimes, this guy would kill and hang the defiled, disfigured corpses in public to let them see the repercussion of offending them.

The only guy in history to survive the killing order issued by the Church.

The guy who forced the Church to step back by destroying hundreds of churches and slaughtering an entire army of Paladins by himself.

He especially abhors evil and destroys every organization he would get his hands on.

A figure that even Empires fear.

It wasn't that he was invincible and armies couldn't take him down, but If you want to kill him, you need to prepare to lose a limb.

And that very frightening existence was now walking towards him with a death warrant.

Symbolic red glowing eyes with the reddish sword that feast on the blood of the victims.

Olly, attempting to muster his strength, tried to get up, but before he could do so, compress magic energy hit him out of nowhere.

A mist of blood foam appeared over his head, taking the shape of an object similar to the weapon shot at him.

He tried to protect himself with aura, but his defenses were pierced, and a long blood spear impaling his thighs and hands pinned him on the floor.

Shaking his groggy eyes, he was about to scream, but his voice ceased in his throat seeing Harris standing before him.

"It seems your friends don't want to come out," Harris spoke coldly, sending a shiver to the shadow figures hiding in the dark.

"It's okay. I will start with you and then invite them to the party." Harris then stared at the 18 students who had fallen unconscious.

He waved his hand and the blood mist encased them, cutting them off from the outside.

CLACK!

Noticing Olly's twisting lips, Harris slogged his hand into Olly's mouth and dislocated his lower jaw.

"Did you think you could die without my permission?"

Harris then plucked out a few sets of teeth that contained capsules and forced Olly to swallow his teeth after removing the capsule containing poison.

The blood-red sword glowed, morphing into a hatchet. A cruel smile hung over his lips as he looked down at the frightened, pitiful human.

"Should I pull your vocal cords first or gouge out your eyes first?"

"Let's cut your flesh and subsequently, I will pull out the intestine and slice it thinly."

"You should make use of your lips to sing the scream of agony that please my ears and witness the glory of being killed by me."

"Thank you for donating your blood to nourish my sword."

The hatchet in his hand quivered joyfully, imagining the delicious meal it was going to have after a long time.

"My dear mate…"

"Welcome the dawn of brutality."

Swish!

A deadly cold murderous intent burst forth from Harris's body, dyeing the entire place in red.

Raising the hatchet, he lashed it at the man's shoulder. Unsatisfied, he lodged the hatchet again, and again and again.

DUM! DUM!DUM!DUM!

What accompanied the dull sound of tearing flesh was the sound of violent screams and shrieks pleading for mercy.