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... ner of his mouth and collapsed. The black robe was soaked in the blood all over the ground, and the fingertips drew bloodstains on the ground.

He grieved to the extreme, but his body also reached the extreme load, no matter how sad he was, he couldn't stop the flow of vitality.

His struggles became weaker each time.

Can't hear, can't see.

He just steadily stabbed the dagger in his hand into his heart, his hand never trembled, and his speed never changed.

It see ...

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.