Night Journey

Chapter 116 Midnight Battle

Cillian had no time to think about what had happened.

The moment the six blazing white eyes lit up, a sharp whistling sound pierced the air.

He almost instinctively stepped back, and then a deafening crash sounded in front of him.

The ground shattered, and the cracks spread up the walls on both sides, raising clouds of dust.

"Cuckoo..."

The birdsong resumed, and the shrieking sound returned.

A sharp, piercing pain shot through Cillian's abdomen and arms.

He stumbled backward, slipping out of the narrow alley, only to discover that two iron feathers had already embedded themselves in his flesh.

He pulled out the iron feathers, spilling blood everywhere. Ciri held the Boiling Sword horizontally in front of him to deal with the subsequent attacks, but the figure in the narrow alley had disappeared, leaving only darkness.

"Cuckoo..."

The sound came from above Cillian's head, and a sword blade came crashing down on him.

A resounding clang rang out, and sparks flew everywhere.

Cillian forcefully shook off his opponent, staggering backward, while his opponent lightly leaped up and landed steadily on a nearby street lamp.

Without thinking, he threw out the grappling hook and nailed it into a tall building on the side, trying to leave the place quickly. But as soon as he took off, a sharp sound of something cutting through the air came again.

The taut hook was cut off out of thin air.

Ciri took the opportunity to nail the Boiling Sword into the wall, then stepped onto the windowsill and struggled to climb upwards.

Iron feathers followed closely behind Ciri's footsteps, piercing the walls and shattering windows, eliciting gasps from the residents.

Just as I climbed onto the roof, my opponent followed like a ghost, gracefully landing on the water tank on the roof.

The Lighthouse stands tall in the center of Hull, its radiant light casting a golden glow over the night.

Bathed in the light of the soul essence, the figure was mostly obscured by a gray shawl. The edge of the metal helmet had outstretched wings, and three pairs of narrow, six-eyed eyes shone with a blazing white light, coldly staring at him.

The legend of Hel, the ruler of midnight, who single-handedly eradicated the existence of the city council...

Reverse falcon.

He stepped out of the story and into the world.

Cillian gazed at the exquisite six-eyed winged helmet, then raised his hand to touch his own helmet. It felt rough to the touch, and he could vaguely feel the words Bruce had carved into it.

“Bruce, your cooking isn’t very good either,” Cillian sighed. “It doesn’t resemble the original at all…”

In the brief exchange, the opponent exerted tremendous pressure, leaving almost no opportunity to retaliate.

There is no doubt that the other party has genuine products.

A true reverse falcon.

"Cuckoo..."

Reverse Falcon swung the longsword in his hand.

The sword blade unfolded segment by segment in mid-air, transforming into a sharp whip that cleaved a silvery-white snake.

Ciri rolled to one side, and a huge crack appeared in the rooftop.

Amidst billowing smoke and dust, Cillian raised his jet revolver and opened fire in retaliation.

The stream of fire flashed across the rooftop like a meteor, piercing the water tank beneath the Reverse Falcon.

Water and fire mingled together, boiling and expanding rapidly, igniting the entire water tank and sending up showers and overflowing steam.

"What's wrong!"

"What happened!"

"what!"

The explosion was deafening, waking citizens from their sleep. A cacophony of voices of confusion, screams, and cries filled the air.

The lights came on one by one, and shadows flickered behind the window, people clinging to the people next to them with fear in their eyes.

Taking advantage of the rising mist, Cillian slipped into the shadows and quickly fled the area.

Reverse Falcon has been gone for so long that most of the people who lived with him in the same era have already entered their graves, and only a very few are still alive, telling his stories to their successors like legends.

As early as when he was planning the project, Cillian had considered that the Reverse Falcon was still in Hel City, but for some unknown reason, it no longer appeared.

Therefore, after his first action as the Reverse Falcon, Ciri was uneasy for a long time, fearing that the real one would come out and kill him, the imposter.

The Falcon didn't appear, as if he were really dead, or had left for good.

Until tonight.

Dozens of silvery lights flickered in the shadows, and the iron feathers stretched into dense threads, transforming into a torrential rain that fell from the sky.

Ciri stopped abruptly and growled.

"Since you have already left this city-state, why have you returned!"

The Boiling Sword unleashed a crimson trail of light, cleaving through most of the iron feathers. The remaining iron feathers grazed Ciri's skin and embedded themselves in the walls and the ground.

The sound of wind came from overhead, like birds spreading their wings and skimming low.

The silver serpent descended once more, stretching its body wildly, leaving terrifying cracks wherever it went.

Ciri struggled to dance in the silver light, knowing that the power of this strange blade would instantly tear his limbs and flesh apart if he were touched.

Under immense pressure, Cillian had no time to think about the Shanghe and Greyhe rivers; he could only keep fleeing, searching for a chance to escape. "Damn it!"

Cillian cursed as he slipped around the other corner.

So far, the Reverse Falcon has not yet demonstrated his extraordinary power, and Cillian cannot determine his destiny or even the strength of his source energy.

Yes, that's the style that Reverse Falcon should have.

Mysterious and powerful, like a living shadow, all that can be seen when you look into it is a murky blur.

The howling wind lingered over the city, followed closely by strange bird calls.

The two men, one in front and one behind, caused a series of explosions and the clanging of metal.

The violent impact shattered the glass windows along the way, and in their panic, people caught a glimpse of the figure soaring in the shadows.

"Two...two reverse falcons!"

Someone shouted.

Amid the intense chase, more people noticed what was happening here.

The piercing alarm bells rang incessantly, and the superhumans on night patrol noticed the anomaly and converged from all directions.

Time is running out for Cillian.

Even if he isn't killed by the Reverse Falcon, there's a high chance that the arriving superhumans will surround and trap him.

Once his identity is exposed, Cillian doesn't think he has a chance to escape in public.

Despite the extreme crisis, Cillian did not panic; instead, he was extremely excited.

"Since you're so persistent... let's go together!"

Ciri suddenly changed direction and rushed towards the inner city.

Continuing to stay in the city will only attract a continuous stream of superhumans, and in this open terrain, Cillian will not even have a chance to get close to the Reverse Falcon.

Cillian decided to set up the battlefield in the inner city, deep underground in the bloated area of ​​the Lighthouse.

The Falcon sensed Cillian's intention, and its blade extended once more, like a chain with a sharp edge, stirring up a storm.

The blade and the boiling sword collided repeatedly, sparks flying and the vibrations made Ciri's hands go numb.

In the blink of an eye, Cillian's body was covered with a dense array of scratches. Fortunately, these wounds were not deep and did not affect his mobility.

Before the blood could even drip, it burst into flames under Cillian's will.

Blood froth turned into sparks, which together created a dazzling burst of light, like a flickering torch, enveloping the entire intersection.

This attack wasn't particularly lethal, but the instantaneous flash of light was enough to dazzle most people, thus buying Ciri time to act.

“What bad luck!”

Tonight's events have already spiraled out of control.

Following his memory, Ciri smashed through a street partition and stumbled into an underground drainage pipe.

As soon as he stepped inside, Cillian felt a sharp pain from the Ouroboros Seal.

In the underground drainage pipes... oh, now it should be called a dark alley.

Deep in the dark alley, a group of Chaos believers and their wicked offspring looked at each other in disbelief as Cillian suddenly barged in.

After the destruction of the vertical farm, the existence of the Claws was completely exposed in Hel City. Under the attack of the city guard, the Claws retreated completely.

Tonight is their first gathering since the destruction of the vertical farm, and the location of the gathering is very secretive.

This underground drainage pipe was among the earliest in Hur City. It was sealed off and abandoned by the spirit craftsmen long ago, and even now, few people know its exact location.

"You've been a huge help, Tania!"

Cirien was overjoyed.

His smile was genuine, as if these former mortal enemies had now become his adoptive parents.

Ciri knew about this place because Tania had revealed it to her; in her quest for a quick death, she spilled a lot of secret information.

"I'll be troubling you all in advance!"

Ciri rushed in front of the crowd, grabbed the hand of a Chaos cultist, and shook him vigorously.

Then, they ripped his arm off.

Amidst the blood and cries of agony, everyone finally realized that this was the damned Reverse Falcon, the enemy who had put them in this predicament.

As streams of energy reactions rose, a chaotic chorus of gunfire erupted.

Cillian had no intention of getting entangled with them. He grabbed the severed arm and ran wildly into the depths of the dark alley.

Even when several bullets grazed his body, he did not turn around to fight back.

Just as everyone was about to give chase, a strange bird call echoed through the dark alley.

They turned their heads, and six pale eyes lit up not far away.

"Another...another reverse falcon..."

This was the last glimpse they would ever see in their lives.

The next moment, the Reverse Falcon swooped down, shattering the Chaos Believers and Evil Offspring along its path into uniform chunks of flesh, the pervasive blood smearing the surrounding walls.

The final, mournful cry echoed like the howl of a ghost.

(End of this chapter)