Endless Debt-Chapter 770 - 238 The Approaching Storm_2

The game continues.

Bologue brings Ewen to the platform, where everyone else is, "Wake everyone up first."

Uncertainty lingers in Bologue’s heart; he always feels like something bad is about to happen. Looking to the side, the ghost soldiers have long finished maintaining the Dawn, their figures begin to blur until they completely vanish from sight.

A layer of brand new, heavy armor covers the carriage of the Dawn, thick smoke mixed with sparks spews, the engine hums lowly, like an enraged bull ready to charge forward at any moment.

It’s hard to imagine what kind of challenges lie ahead, requiring such an armored train.

As the original author, Bologue once thought Ewen could be of some use in the game, but clearly, now this game is ruled by the Joyous Desire Witch, Ewen is just a writer, he can’t change anything.

"Hmm? What’s wrong."

Aimou rubs her eyes, chilled to the bone by the sea breeze, only then noticing the change in her surroundings.

"There’s a problem, wake up."

Bologue helps Aimou up, pulls out the dagger from her waist, and stuffs it into her hand.

"What did you dream about?"

Without waiting for Aimou to answer, Bologue asks, "Some beautiful things, right?"

Aimou hesitates for a moment, nods, "I dreamed of the old days, the days in the Alchemy Workshop."

Predictably, everyone has sunk into a sweet dream.

After Aimou, the others gradually awake as Ewen begins explaining to them the dangerous situation they’ve just been in.

This Devil-hosted game is fraught with dangers, never a moment to relax, but the good news is, after resting, their injuries have mostly healed, allowing them to continue facing the upcoming game challenges.

Aimou asks, "Do we board the train immediately?" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Having left the Great Library, the sense of fatigue and drowsiness vanishes, their current environment is somewhat safe, but once they board the train, the game will continue advancing.

"Staying here changes nothing."

Bologue’s intention is very clear, the only way to leave is to indulge the Joyous Desire Witch.

Just as Bologue prepares to make the next decision, Palmer realizes something amiss, puzzled, he raises his hand horizontally, feeling the coolness of raindrops in his palm.

Palmer says, "Something’s not right."

The drizzle intensifies, raindrops grow heavy, as if to pierce through the palm, alongside the howling winds and biting cold seeping through their collars, making everyone shiver twice.

"The time in this frozen world has begun to flow."

Palmer looks up, pitch-black storm clouds nearly covering the sky, the orange-red light at the horizon starts to weaken, subsequently a storm rises from the ground, almost entirely blocking out the sunlight.

In the roaring clouds, the orange-red light flickers like wavering candle flames, Canary grabs the stone pillar beside her, the strong wind almost toppling her over, then she notices the approaching storm, advancing on land with an extraordinary speed.

"Everyone!"

Canary shouts, but the others have already seen that damned storm, Bologue swiftly throws Hart into the carriage, then against the fierce wind, calls for the others to get on board.

"Depart! Depart!"

Bologue shouts with all his might, trying to override the sharp wind noise, the situation changes too quickly for them to handle.

At the front of the train, several ghost soldiers appear, they seem to understand Bologue’s orders and get to work, the Dawn immediately starts moving slowly.

Bologue helps the others onto the train, just as he’s about to enter the carriage, a hoarse roar mixed with the gusts reaches him.

"No way!"

Even Bologue can’t help but loudly complain at this moment, he vaguely hears a woman’s laughter, as if mocking him.

Along the tracks enveloped by fierce winds and thick smoke, a monster speeds ahead carrying hatred and a bloodthirsty desire.

Breaking through the smoky haze, the battered Fear-Devouring Demon appears once more, Bologue and the others failed to kill it and only knocked it down; now it’s chasing them along the tracks again.

Bologue decisively flips into the game board carriage, grabs the dice, throws it onto the board without a look, then draws the blade from his sword bag, racing through the open carriage doors.

Now fully in motion, the Dawn roars, with the approaching Fear-Devouring Demon behind and the advancing storm in the distance propelling dust and stones like arrow rain.

Pebbles crackle against the carriage, the sharp echoes ricocheting within, Bologue feels as if he’s returned to the days of scorched earth rage.

Back then it was the same, bullets flying outside, clutching a firearm, cowering in the corner, counting bullet holes on the carriage for a moment’s solace.

The memories are too many, Bologue starts to hate it all, pushing through the last carriage door, the fierce wind assaults him, along with the nearing Fear-Devouring Demon.

The fall off the cliff has inflicted severe damage, its dense scale armor shattered, some scales piercing into its flesh, it’s covered in blood, one of the two lethal great scythes broken, pale bones jabbing out from flesh, open intestines hanging from its abdomen.

The Fear-Devouring Demon stumbles as it runs, yet still loyally fulfills the purpose of its existence, causing trouble despite the distance.

As Bologue reaches the end of the carriage, so does the Fear-Devouring Demon, upon seeing Bologue it lets out a low growl of excitement, then swings its only great scythe at him.

Facing such a fierce strike, Bologue doesn’t face it head-on but dodges sideways, he has long targeted the wound at the scythe’s joint, and decisively slices down with his sword.

The first strike doesn’t completely sever the scythe, but the blade does cut several inches into the flesh, the Fear-Devouring Demon lets out a painful wail, its other broken forelimb swings inward attempting to counter with protruding bone spurs, but Bologue is far quicker, evades comfortably and swings his sword again.

The ghastly wounds extend along the Fear-Devouring Demon’s body, it doesn’t retreat, instead lunges at Bologue, who then draws the Short Sword, not dodging, directly plunging it into the Fear-Devouring Demon’s throat.

Interlocking teeth scrape Bologue’s arm like a meat grinder while his Short Sword penetrates the Fear-Devouring Demon’s throat, instantly filling its mouth with blood.

Seizing the opportunity, Bologue stabs forth with his other hand wielding the Long Sword, driving it into the Fear-Devouring Demon’s jaw, the two blades intertwining within the flesh, before the great scythe swings down, slicing through with a ripping sound, Bologue tears away the Fear-Devouring Demon’s entire jaw and most of its throat like a guillotine.

The gruesome severed surface is starkly visible, blood gushes endlessly, as the Crossbow Arrow whistles through the air, embedding into the severed flesh, one after another, until the creature is riddled with arrows, until one relentless arrowhead pierces its vital heart.

At last, the rampaging Fear-Devouring Demon falls silent, chunks of flesh dropping from its body like wilting flowers, gradually, a blurry blood-soaked human figure emerges from within, dragging the large remnants and plunges off the train end, quickly the impending storm swallows the corpse into the thick smoke, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of blood in the air.

Bologue clutches his arm wound, panting heavily, he clearly sees the blurred human figure under the hideous body, uncertain whether losing the game would also transform him into such a toy, awaiting the start of the next game.