Chapter 1097

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Chapter 1097: He is Dead

The tires rolled over the scattered snow, and on the desolate snowfield, an off-road vehicle roared like a wild beast, speeding at full throttle.

An Qingyu gripped the steering wheel with both hands, pressing the accelerator to the floor. His disheveled black hair spilled over his white coat, and his eyes were fixed on the horizon, his brow tightly furrowed.

In just a few days, An Qingyu had already used his clones to resurrect for the second time. Combined with the previous instances, the nearly two years of clone reserves he had prepared in Cangnan City were almost depleted.

Even though he had obtained the power to create clones from dissecting the Ten Cuts Demon Child, An Qingyu was not a “mystic.” For him, creating clones was still an extremely time-consuming and energy-draining process. Even with his full dedication, it would take at least four months to create a single clone.

After becoming a Night Watchman, An Qingyu had been running around the world with Lin Qiye, leaving him no time to focus on creating clones. After this resurrection, only one clone remained, still lying in the ice coffin, serving as his last trump card.

However, what An Qingyu was worried about now was not these matters.

He glanced at the map, picked up a walkie-talkie from the passenger seat, and pressed the button:

“This is An Qingyu, please respond if you hear me.”

He didn’t change the frequency or even turn up the volume; he knew very well that even if he didn’t adjust the signal to any channel, as long as he held the walkie-talkie, Jiang Er would be able to capture his signal.

Soon, Jiang Er’s voice came through the walkie-talkie:

“Received.”

“What’s the situation at the Divine Monument now?”

As soon as An Qingyu finished speaking, there was silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie.

“Jiang Er?”

“…Qingyu, we are bringing the new recruits and are almost at the stop airport. Let’s talk when we arrive.”

An Qingyu’s brow furrowed slightly, a sense of foreboding flashing through his mind, but he still spoke up: “Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

He suddenly turned the steering wheel, and the vehicle sped toward the stop airport. His foot pressed harder on the accelerator, and his expression grew increasingly anxious.

Before long, he arrived near the stop airport.

An Qingyu quickly got out of the car, disregarding his disheveled appearance, and walked straight ahead. In the makeshift stop airport, the new recruits were all keeping their heads down, silently boarding the aircraft, their eyes slightly red.

Over six hundred new recruits, not a single person spoke, moving forward in an orderly line like a group of machines.

The entire stop airport was eerily silent.

Shen Qingzhu sat alone at the entrance of the stop airport, his blood-stained palm holding a cigarette that had not been lit, the tip twisted by two pale fingers.

Jiang Er’s coffin was right beside him, and Jiang Er, dressed in a white gown, floated in the air. Upon seeing An Qingyu arrive, her lips pressed together slightly, instinctively avoiding his gaze and lowering her head.

An Qingyu looked around but did not see any other members of the Nightfall team.

His heart sank immediately.

He stepped closer to Shen Qingzhu and Jiang Er:

“What happened? What’s going on?”

Hearing An Qingyu’s voice, the statue-like Shen Qingzhu seemed to come back to his senses. His red eyes slowly closed, and his trembling right hand, still holding the twisted cigarette, brought it to his lips. A flicker of flame ignited, lighting the cigarette.

He took a deep drag and hoarsely spoke:

“Qiye… died in battle.”

At those words, it felt as if a thunderclap had struck An Qingyu’s mind!

He stood there dazed for a long time, as if his soul had left him, murmuring, “Died… how did he die?”

“He used the Ghost God Call to hold off a Nine Pillar God by himself to protect the National Divine Monument, buying time for the human ceiling and the Great Xia God to arrive.”

“Ghost God Call…”

An Qingyu repeated those three words, his body trembling slightly.

“The Black King couldn’t stop them? What about Cao Yuan, where is he?”

“Cao Yuan became the Black King and was suppressed by the Queen Mother of the West. Later, after the Heavenly Court returned from the battlefield, he and Qiye’s bodies were taken back to the Heavenly Court by the Great Xia God, and then they disappeared,” Jiang Er added.

“What about Fatty? He didn’t participate in the battle, where did he go?”

“He… went missing, he disappeared right when the fighting started.”

An Qingyu stood silently, his fists clenched tightly under his cloak, blood vessels creeping up behind his glasses, his breathing heavy.

After a moment, he slowly closed his eyes.

“I understand.” His voice had calmed significantly, “Take the new recruits back to the capital first…”

Upon hearing this, Shen Qingzhu’s body trembled slightly, and he and Jiang Er both looked up at An Qingyu.

“Don’t look at me like that. With Qiye gone, I’ll take command of the team.” An Qingyu’s eyes showed no signs of wavering as he quietly met their gazes. “The priority is to safely return these new recruits to headquarters. The Heavenly Court will provide us with a response regarding the situation.”

“But… this team only has three people left now…”

Jiang Er spoke bitterly.

“What does it matter if there are three people? Even if there’s only one person left, we are still Nightfall. We must fulfill our duties, and nothing can be neglected.”

An Qingyu picked up the coffin from the ground, speaking in an undeniable tone, “Follow my orders, return to the capital.”

Shen Qingzhu was silent for a moment, then threw the cigarette into the snow and turned to walk toward the plane.

“Qingyu…” Jiang Er seemed to want to say something more, but An Qingyu interrupted her.

“I’m fine. You go check the aircraft’s signal device and see if you can contact headquarters from the plane.”

“…Okay.”

Jiang Er obediently floated toward the plane.

Once everyone boarded the aircraft, An Qingyu, standing in place with the black coffin on his back, suddenly swayed and slammed his fist into the snow beneath him!

Snowflakes flew, and dense cracks spread across the ground. The veins on An Qingyu’s well-proportioned arms bulged, his expression twisted and fierce.

“Damn it…”

He gritted his teeth, blood seeping from between his clenched jaws, repeatedly pounding the ground, venting his anger and grief.

His knuckles shattered and healed again and again. When he finally withdrew his hand, took a deep breath, and walked toward the cockpit, his expression returned to its usual calm.

He walked through the cabin under the watchful eyes of countless new recruits and arrived at the cockpit door.

Just as he opened the cockpit door, a figure stumbled out from behind it. An Qingyu quickly grabbed his wrist, and upon seeing his face, he was momentarily taken aback.

“Fatty?”

Baili Fatty glanced outside to confirm that no one else was paying attention before pulling An Qingyu into the cockpit and locking the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” An Qingyu asked, puzzled.

Baili Fatty lay weakly on the ground, his pale face devoid of color. He gently lifted his shirt to reveal a gruesome and terrifying wound on his abdomen, forcing a smile:

“This injury… I can’t heal myself. Qingyu, it’s up to you now.”