Endless Debt-Chapter 879 - 28: Extreme Realm (Part 2)
Gold, also a Defender, had previously suffered such grievous injuries, not because of physical wounds, but because his mind and will had fallen under the control of the Joyous Desire Witch, allowing her to toy with him.
Strangely, this time the Ether did not help the Silent One reduce his injuries; instead, the faint light at the wound quickly faded, and the stopped blood oozed again.
The Silent One felt countless venomous snakes burrowing into his body from his wounds, wantonly gnawing at his flesh and blood, devouring his Alchemy Matrix, and for a moment he even found it difficult to maintain the Ether.
"Only a part of you is not enough."
Nesanel said as he grasped the Silent One’s throat, applying slight pressure, causing the ethereal radiance on the Silent One’s body to completely extinguish, as the sounds of twisting and breaking echoed throughout his body. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂
A more intense Ether invaded the Silent One’s body, piercing through his Rectangular Soul Critical at the moment of contact, and then thoroughly assailed the Alchemy Matrix.
The Silent One did not find this outcome surprising, after all, he was now facing the most lethal Seeker of Glory in the history of the Order Bureau.
Not only in the Order Bureau, but also in the history of the entire world, was such a horrifying existence rare.
The Silent One suddenly felt a hint of curiosity, during the grandest scene of the Secret War, he was not present, and he was very curious as to who was the sharpest blade in that battle between Nesanel and Xilin.
His thoughts were interrupted as Nesanel twisted the Silent One’s neck, the Ether wildly ravaging his body, and soon his flesh withered away, like a structure eroded by the wind, disintegrating into pieces of dust scattered.
The Silent One, who had left Bologue gasping for breath, thus fell, dying at the hands of the Seeker of Glory.
Bologue fought to maintain his will, knowing he could not die yet, and with renewed spirit, he struggled to speak to Nesanel.
"There is someone, someone completely different from the Silent One, wearing a black robe..."
The strange connection tugged at Bologue’s heart.
"Oh? Do you mean it?"
Nesanel turned, facing Bologue, and it was only then that Bologue noticed that in Nesanel’s other hand, he held a body.
Upon closer inspection, Bologue found it was not a body; beneath the black robe was a shell forged of machinery.
"I guess it was an assassin from the King’s Shield Guard, trying to disrupt the negotiations between us and the King’s Secret Sword."
Nesanel lied without a change in his expression, "As for this thing, it’s just a Domination Object under control, the true master is not here."
He threw the shell to the ground, the metal buzzing continuously, as Bologue stared blankly at the remains, knowing Nesanel was right, the master who controlled the shell was gone, and he could no longer feel the strange connection.
His vision plunged into darkness, and the exhausted Bologue fell heavily.
...
After the scarlet light, a dislocated alien sensation came from all around him, as if his whole body had been cut into fragments and then reassembled, nerves and mind left with an uncanny feeling, and a rusty taste rose in his throat and nostrils, like he had just crawled out of a giant beast’s stomach.
When his vision restored, Gray had already passed through the scarlet scar sliced open by the Blood Transfer Sword, ending the Curved Path Shuttling, reaching a dark space.
Gray did not immediately take action, supporting himself with the scarlet long sword, the effects of the Curved Path Shuttling not yet over, and the fatigue after overusing the Blessing also swept over his mind.
Fortunately, Gray was already accustomed to this feeling. Ever since becoming the Debtor of the Tyrant, using the Blood Transfer Sword’s ability to cut through paths, Gray had become the Tyrant’s emissary, freely shuttling between various regions, rushing ceaselessly.
With prolonged use of the Curved Path, Gray felt he gradually built resistance to it, just as he had long become accustomed to the dark and damp life within the Great Rift.
As resistance developed, the effects also deepened, and during diagnoses by those Gray Doctors a few times, they found slight deformation in Gray’s skeletal structure, and even his internal organs had shifted to some degree of deviation.
Gray did not mind these things.
He climbed the stairs, walked into the narrow corridor, the dark space echoing with the rustling of currents, faintly hearing the sound of people talking.
Gray came to the door at the end of the darkness, pushed it open, and a modest-sized living room came into view.
Many televisions piled together, like a wall, on the worn-out sofa, a blurred, squirming black shadow sat watching the television, emitting a piercing laugh.
Gray took a quick glance at the content on the televisions; in the images, the Silent Ones were at war with the Order Bureau, the entire industrial zone engulfed in flames of war, the frenetic Ether howling and roaring.
"Is there anything else I need to do?"
Gray leaned against the wall, arms crossed, voice cold.
"Wait a moment, just a moment," the Tyrant’s body leaned forward, eyes almost glued to the TV screen, "it’s about to end."
The television screen switched to inside a closed building, where the Silent Ones served as the Tyrant’s eyes and ears, spying on the internal massacre.
Among the many black-armored figures, Gray also noted that black-robed figure, and soon the black-robed figure turned around, seemingly saying something to the pursuing Bologue, and a silver mask was revealed.
Gray remembered this person; not long ago, he had just delivered a large number of souls for them, only then did Gray realize he had no idea about the other’s identity.
