This wind was different from the previous two. It arrived with ferocity, reaching around level five or six, swirling the fallen leaves into the air and shaking the branches until leaves fell.
Moreover, this wind showed no signs of weakening. If anything, it intensified!
The branches began to creak, and leaves, along with some dust, were blown around them. Many soldiers quickly raised their hands to shield their eyes, while those who didn’t squinted against the onslaught.
Suddenly, the streetlights flickered in response to the wind. The light became erratic, flashing as if affected by some powerful magnetic force, at times bright, at times dim, as if the fuses were about to blow.
Such a scene was often seen in horror films, but now it unfolded around them.
“What’s happening?” someone suddenly questioned.
Enoch furrowed his brow, straining to see down the straight road ahead.
Just then, the lights at the end of the street flickered a few times before shutting off completely. With the extinguishing of the lights, the mysterious wind intensified even more, snapping off several frail branches and sending them crashing to the ground.
A wind without rain was not a good omen!
Enoch forced himself to focus on the situation at the end of the road, and finally, he spotted it. In the center of the road, a faint silhouette emerged. It appeared to be a person, but wherever they stepped, the lights seemed to extinguish, driven by the powerful airflow surrounding them.
This individual radiated an overwhelming aura.
He was walking toward them, and each step seemed to summon an endless gale. It was a bizarre sight, one Enoch had never encountered before, and the new members of the area were equally astonished, thinking, What kind of powerful magic could cause such natural phenomena?
“Prepare yourselves!” Enoch raised his rifle, aiming directly at the approaching figure.
All the soldiers behind him quickly followed suit, rifles raised, forming an intimidating line of several thousand men. The sheer display could terrify anyone.
Yet the figure showed no signs of slowing down. He maintained a steady pace, seemingly unbothered by the commotion, completely unfazed.
As he passed, the lights would flicker back on, only to dim again as he moved forward. No one had ever seen this eerie spectacle and it had everyone on edge.
What was he? A ghost?
Just as that thought crossed Enoch’s mind, the sodium lights crackled again!
He was getting closer!
Finally, under the faint yellow light, Enoch discerned the figure’s form.
It was an elderly man with a head of white hair and a stern expression. He wore a tattered white robe, appearing ancient and imbued with an aura of age.
He looked like someone from another time, his attire and demeanor starkly different from modern folks.
The crowd collectively thought, Is this old man insane? He didn’t seem mad, but who was he? Was he the person they were waiting for?
Regardless of his identity, Enoch and his soldiers were determined not to let him pass any further! He was now only about twenty meters from the hospital entrance, and he continued advancing without any intention of stopping.
The old man exuded an imposing presence. Though alone, he seemed to carry the weight of an army. As he approached, many were intimidated by his fierce aura, retreating involuntarily.
“This is an important area of Inassea. You cannot proceed! Halt!” Enoch cleared his throat and bellowed firmly.
However, the old man showed no inclination to stop, continuing forward with steady strides, his confidence growing stronger, as if he disregarded the thousands of rifles aimed at him.
Seeing this, Enoch swiftly pulled the trigger, and the thousands behind him followed suit without hesitation. He fired a shot into the ground.
The gunshot echoed, kicking up dirt and debris.
After firing, Enoch shouted hoarsely, “Stop! If you take another step forward, the next bullet will hit you!”
The sound of the gun reverberated, and the old man finally halted. He raised his head and surveyed the sea of rifles directed at him. Despite the cold glint of the gun barrels, his expression was devoid of fear, maintaining an air of defiance.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Enoch asked, his face grave.
The old man remained silent, inhaling deeply, then raised his gaze to the St. George Medical Center. His eyes still held an arrogant glint, despite the tattered fabric that made him look less than formidable.
“Who are you?” Enoch pressed again, stepping forward hesitantly.
In their heightened tension, no one noticed that the wind had ceased and the streetlights had returned to normal.
The old man fixed his piercing gaze on Enoch, his eyes sharp like a hawk’s.
This was the first time Enoch felt the intensity of their stare.
“Who are you?” Enoch swallowed hard, asking for the third time!
The old man’s gaze sharpened further, and he remained silent, intensifying the tension among the crowd.
The night was deep, and the sudden arrival of such an old man, silent and unyielding, made everyone tremble with unease.
Finally, unable to contain himself, Enoch hoisted his rifle and took another step forward. “Who the hell are you? If you don’t speak, I’ll shoot!”
The old man’s gaze softened slightly, and he cleared his throat. In a hoarse voice, he asked, “Is Fletcher inside?”
Upon receiving the call from Kayden, Kameron Moreno felt a jolt of agitation. For decades, he had roamed the streets with impunity, never once failing in killing anyone.
Fletcher had been publicly executed by him, his skull shattered and insides obliterated. Yet, here Fletcher was, alive. What infuriated Kameron more was people had spread the rumor that Fletcher had defeated him in their duel that day.