Endless Debt-Chapter 791 - 252 Past
"Which battle is this?"
Bologue gazed upon the vast battlefield, shells falling like torrential rain, countless bodies rolling into the trenches, swiftly buried by the dust thrown up.
A strange, deep, and bizarre sound came, sometimes loud, sometimes soft, echoing like thunder in the crevices of the valley.
Something was approaching, numbering in the billions, as numerous as oxen; Bologue saw them, amidst the rolling black smoke, a sprawling dark cloud was sweeping across the battlefield, like the Death God spreading plague.
It wasn’t a dark cloud, but a swarm of flies flapping their wings, emitting a high-frequency drone, crawling over the rotting corpses, laying eggs in the decaying flesh, with countless white maggots crawling over the bodies.
The soldiers hiding in the trenches cried out in misery as they vigorously waved their weapons, trying to scatter the flies, but the flies hovered like vultures over their heads, waiting for the moment of their death. Some impatient flies bored into their wounds, causing excruciating pain.
Like a black snow, countless flies layered thickly and covered the ground, buzzing loudly, as if the entire earth had come to life, singing the dirge of death.
Decayed pus and blood pooled at the bottom of the trenches, the strange mixed smell turning stomachs; the soldiers wanted to escape this hellish place, but standing up from the trenches, they were met with a dense rain of bullets.
"Keep watching, you’ll find out soon."
Belphegor, without knowing from where, pulled out two folding chairs, sat down openly, swept away the yellow earth at his feet, revealing a small refrigerator full of chilled drinks.
"Honestly, even as one who loves humanity, sometimes I fear humans."
Belphegor said leisurely, "In past history, none could impact our conflicts, but in recent years, humans have defeated our plots time and again, even causing the collapse of the Eternal Night Empire."
"Your Alchemy Matrix Technology advances swiftly, more and more Defenders, Seekers of Glory are stepping onto the stage of history..."
Each breakthrough in Secret Source and Alchemy Matrix Technology spurs rapid progress in Extraordinary Technology, which Bologue deeply felt while battling the Elder at the Wind Source Highlands.
Bologue said, "You are soon unable to control humans."
"For so many years, my kin have felt a sense of crisis for the first time," Belphegor said, "It’s this sense of crisis that has made them more radical."
"Think about it, Bologue, your penned sheep have grown sharp teeth and claws; your farm is at the brink of destruction, what will you do then."
Bologue took a deep breath, "Crush those restless sheep, pull out their fangs and claws, completely annihilate civilization and technology."
"So, this conflict next, I’m not sure if it will decide our fate, but it’s certainly related to your fate as humans."
Belphegor gave Bologue a cruel smile, leftover drinks remained on his lips, like dyed red blood.
"Do you have any strength left? Two consecutive failures have already drained most of your power, otherwise you and Asmodeus wouldn’t be this restless."
Bologue could sense the differentiation of power among the Devils, "Previously, you and Asmodeus couldn’t defeat other Devils, right?"
"Hmm... maybe my kin have no strength left, but the more it’s like this, the more dangerous they are, aren’t they?"
Belphegor continued, "If in this conflict, humans aren’t thoroughly defeated, given more time to develop, who knows what achievements you will make in the exploration of Secret Source and Alchemy Matrix Technology."
Bologue was speechless to this, it’s plainly obvious that if humans continue to develop, even if Devils can manipulate minds and grant Blessings, under the organized Extraordinary troops, they cannot restore the glory of the past.
"We are like wolves driven into a corner; we won’t retreat or fall into the abyss; rather we will go madly to bite our enemies."
"In this situation, do you still plan to be a moderate?"
Bologue noticed the contradiction in Belphegor’s words; indeed, he couldn’t completely trust this Devil, no matter his stance, it couldn’t change his essence as a Devil.
Belphegor did not explain, but just laughed to himself, a raspy, penetrating laughter, hinting at another conspiracy silently fermenting in the shadows.
"You don’t love humans, Belphegor, just like Asmodeus. You claim to be moderates, passionate about human art and emotions... In the end, you don’t truly love humans."
Bologue didn’t press further; he didn’t think questioning would yield answers, as the devil’s cunning far exceeded his imagination.
These eerie beings never lie, but they never tell the whole truth either.
"Your love for humans is like humans’ love for lambs. You are never equal with us, and the so-called love is simply because this lamb seems cute enough to cuddle. If this lamb were to threaten your interests, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill it."
Bologue calmly analyzed, "Your so-called moderates, standing with humans, is merely because it maximizes your interests.
You fear human development, yet you need human power to prevent you from losing utterly in this grand game and conflict."
Belphegor smiled without a word, then raised his hand, pointing to the distant edge of the battlefield.
"I thought you would remember this battlefield, but thinking about it, you’re just an ordinary soldier. You only see a narrow corner, so how can you overlook the entire picture?"
Accompanied by Belphegor’s words, the dense smoke and dust obscuring the view were driven away by the gale, revealing a magnificent city towering above the earth like a sculpture stripped of its sands, appearing out of thin air.
The towering walls bore the endless cannon fire, countless dense spires constructed together, and the melodious chanting within the isolated city easily overshadowed the roar of death.
Bologue stared fixedly at the city. At that moment, he realized which battle he was in, one he would never forget, a battle that changed his fate.
The Fall of the Holy City.
"You... you were there and documented it all."
Bologue had thought he would never find the truth of the past, but now, to his astonishment, he discovered that Belphegor had recorded it all firsthand.
"I smell the scent of desire. You want to keep watching, don’t you?"
Belphegor let out a triumphant laugh, twisted and hoarse, then shook his head, "But what about the cost? Bologue, everything has a price."
Bologue stared intently at the city. Flames and steel pounded on the high walls, filling them with cracks and making them sway, yet every time the soldiers thought they could breach the city, the walls stood firm, seemingly insurmountable.
The high walls were indeed insurmountable. Bologue had seen them in the Abandoned Land; even clothed in ashes, suppressing the calamities of this world, those worn walls stood defiant as ever, rejecting everyone.
Bologue struggled to subdue his curiosity; controlling his desires was no easy feat, but Bologue managed. He refused, "No, I won’t bargain with you for anything."
"Yes, that’s just like you, and Ewen too. The more you reject the devils, the more we yearn to conquer your souls."
Belphegor declared confidently, "Bologue, you’ve stepped into the mire, and you’ll only sink deeper."
A sinister smile bloomed on Belphegor’s face as he whispered in Bologue’s ear, "Since you’re so curious about what happened in the past, why not explore for yourself? Clearly, those beautiful ruins are so near to you."
Bologue kept a stern face. He heard the devil’s words, planting seeds of sin in his heart. From that moment, Bologue understood that the curiosity to explore the ruins would keep taking root and sprouting within him, and when he sets out to explore the ruins, it would inevitably aid Belphegor in some way. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
The devils are always like this. If you refuse to deal, they’ll use truthful lies to guide you.
"Don’t keep a stern face, smile a bit. The fireworks display coming up is a rare sight."
Belphegor said, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on. Immediately, endless light erupted from within the Holy City. The light, like a continually stacked High Tower, pierced the heavens in an instant. The sky was burned into a brilliant orange-red, dyed clouds collapsed, raining down sulfur and fire upon the earth.
The scorching heatwave swept across the land, evaporating the accumulated filth and blood. The soldiers were hit by the sudden high temperatures, their clothing turning to ashes, their flesh boiling, and before their bodies could fall, they already stood as pillars of salt.
Bologue stared straight at the light. The burning pain nearly blinded him, yet he stubbornly gazed into the intense glow. Amid the blazing heat, he sensed the frenzy emanating from the core of the light. Dimly, he saw several towering black figures, their shadows stretched infinitely under the illumination, grotesque and terrifying.
