As an assassin, the Shadow Wolf has always stood in the darkness behind others. Yet now, he was silently approached from behind by another individual, a sharp weapon pressing against his neck. He was completely unaware throughout the process, only realizing what was happening when the massive scythe rested on his shoulders. A chilling sense of danger, like being pricked by countless sharp needles, covered his back.
At this moment, he dared not move. His body was covered in cold sweat and his heart seemed about to surge out of his chest. The Shadow Wolf, having been an assassin for over two decades and his hands stained with countless blood, prided himself on his aura of blood and killing intent strong enough to terrify any ordinary person. But compared to the person behind him, he was far less daunting, their killing intent was so intense it felt almost tangible, filling the air with a horrifying smell of blood.
