Chapter 1592 - 103: The Key of Sunshine

Serey Villeries, this wretched guy, bears so many memorable labels: the Night King’s eldest son, Night Race Lord, Undead, subverter of the Eternal Night Empire, kin-slayer, Undead...

Savior.

Indeed, theoretically speaking, Serey does deserve the title of Savior. If not for his betrayal back then, no one would know the outcome of the Dawn War. Even if the Extraordinary Alliance Army could defeat the Eternal Night Empire, it would surely be at an extremely cruel cost.

"Savior Serey?"

Bologue muttered these words, then couldn’t help but laugh, as if he had heard a terrible joke. The reactions of others were not much different from Bologue’s; some showed disgust in their eyes, some confusion, and some were filled with doubt.

Everyone’s changes were captured in Serey’s eyes, but he paid no heed to these matters. After all, if Serey cared about the views of others, he wouldn’t have become what he is today.

"What kind of outfit is that?"

Palmer was the first to ask. It was his first time seeing Serey in such a strange formal suit, looking akin to the ancient attire of the Extraordinary Clan.

"Night Race Lord’s attire, huh?" Serey shook the hem of his clothes and strode forward, "Didn’t you read about it in the Clarks’ historical books?"

Historically speaking, Serey indeed seemed like someone walking right out of history books, but what he didn’t know was that Serey had already killed his own blood relatives and other Night Race Lords, burning everything related to them.

In later studies, due to Serey’s atrocities, much of the cultural content related to the Night Race Pure Blood level vanished, leaving blank pages in books.

Serey cared not for these; he himself was living history.

"I haven’t worn this in years, it’s a bit tight, and there’s a strange smell."

Serey loosened his collar, having rummaged through old belongings for quite some time to fish out this outfit. A simple glance made Serey sigh, realizing his sense of style hadn’t gone out of fashion all these years. These outfits were designed by Serey.

"Make way, make way."

Serey casually circled the crowd and came to the head of the table by the map. He glanced at Fuen and, without reservation, sat down and propped his feet on the table.

His expression was full of inexplicable provocation.

Fuen asked, "What are you here for?"

"What else? Helping you solve this crisis," Serey glanced at the map and then at Bologue, "Using Bologue’s words, I’m the professional here."

Bologue approached rapidly, his shadow enveloping Serey like a shroud as he whispered into his ear, "Are you joking? Weren’t you not planning to get involved?"

"I really didn’t want to," Serey’s smile faded, his expression turning cold as ice, "but Olivia is gone. She’s most likely already stepped into the Land of Eternal Night, preparing to assassinate the Night King."

Bologue paused, with Olivia’s image quickly flickering in his mind. It’s hard to imagine that solitary figure making such a choice.

"She’s forcing me," Serey’s voice was icy, "She’s using her life to threaten me, to force me to help her rectify the mistake, to destroy everything."

Bologue mocked Serey, "So, you came? For so-called fatherly love, or the guilt in your heart?"

Serey hesitated for a moment, his expression blank as he confessed, "I don’t know."

"You don’t know?"

"Yes, I don’t know. I don’t know what my thoughts are, nor what kind of feelings I should have."

Serey’s words faltered, starkly contrasting his earlier grand stance, "I am just...just very angry. I refuse to accept this reality and refuse to lose Olivia just like that."

Serey suddenly thought of something and whispered, "I think I understand now, understand what Aisha said to me back then."

Bologue straightened up. He wasn’t sure what Aisha had said to Serey or what Serey was thinking, but his arrival indeed brought a slight turn to the situation.

"And you, Wei’Er?"

Bologue then looked at the black cat fiddling with chess pieces on the table, "What are you doing here with him?"

"Me? I have other duties, things that don’t concern you. No need to mind me much."

Wei’Er said as she leapt from the table to Bologue’s side, climbing up his clothes to nestle on his shoulder, her furry form warm and cozy.

Bologue cautiously inquired, "So...is this your reemployment?"

"Reemployment?"

Wei’Er was puzzled for a moment, not immediately grasping what Bologue meant. A few seconds later, she let out a meowing laugh.

"You’re really funny!" Wei’Er patted Bologue’s face with her paw, "Pretty much, pretty much, more like...temporary dispatch!"

Bologue nodded knowingly, as a member of the Undying Club, Bologue was well aware of the Club’s rules. Every Undead, once retired, was cut off from any contact with the mortal world. In other words, if Serey wanted to save Olivia, he would have to break the rules and relinquish the protection of the Undying Club.

But this time, even Wei’Er joined in. Recalling Sai Zong’s situation, Bologue realized the long-reclusive Undying Club was no longer willing to remain silent and would emerge powerfully, joining this chaos.

"Serey, I have no interest in those messy affairs of yours, but you said...you said you know a way?"

Fuen’s voice grew stern, hoping Serey wasn’t jesting, "Where is that path?"

"Don’t rush. Since I’m here, I’ve naturally made up my mind. As for that path..."

Serey was still in his usual indifferent manner, but his timid heart grew uncharacteristically resolute. He asked Fuen again, "Remember the island I mentioned before?"

Fuen instinctively replied, "Eternal Sun Island."

"Yes, precisely that island, my true refuge...there’s a gate there, leading directly to the Land of Eternal Night."

Serey said as he undid his collar, revealing his sturdy chest, "Luckily, I have a key that directly leads to that island."

With that, Serey picked up the Bloodthirsty Dagger, effortlessly pierced his own chest, and made a shocking incision.

Under the metal’s sharpness, the cut through flesh and bone was clean and smooth. Serey lodged the dagger into the table, and with both hands forcefully pried open his chest, further widening the wound.

Amid the blood and gore, the sound of tearing flesh was like fabric being ripped apart, or strings snapping one by one, blood gushing forth, flowing freely enough to see Serey’s organs quietly pulsating beneath the translucent membrane, his heart beating steadily.

Some couldn’t bear the brutality of the scene and averted their eyes, while others stared intently at Serey’s self-mutilation. His face showed no sign of pain, but rather a self-destructive pleasure.

"Don’t hurry, let me find it."

Serey said as he plunged his hand into his chest, rummaging through the soft flesh for something, the slick tissue churning with wet, squelching sounds.

Within these sacrilegious, grotesque scenes, Serey suddenly gleamed with joy and exclaimed excitedly, "I found it."

He then withdrew a meticulously crafted Key of the Crooked Path from his chest, which Fuen recognized.

The wounds swiftly healed, and Serey, unconcerned with appearances, wiped the key clean with a corner of his garment, holding it like a treasure, raising it high.

"I told you," Serey raised an eyebrow at Fuen, "such important items are only secure when hidden within oneself."

Bologue looked at the bloody key, vaguely realizing what the so-called Eternal Sun Island truly was.

Reflecting on all this, Bologue once again felt the complexity of human nature, like a perpetually shifting puzzle—an insoluble riddle with no definitive answers.