Chapter 1604 - 108: Storm Approaching (Part 2)

Hinda kept silent, only feeling as if she had crashed once more into a transparent wall, her head smashed and bleeding.

Bologue blinked; the cold, rigid mask of his face softened again. He ended his exchange with Aimou and slipped free from that vacant trance.

"All right, Aimou, it’s your turn."

Bologue spoke as he reached out a hand toward Medi.

Medi’s eyes widened. At this moment, in his gaze Bologue had already twisted into some loathsome thing beyond imagination. Bologue’s palm began to tremble, splitting off a blurred double-image, as if two hands overlapped—and then those hands clamped savagely around Medi’s skull.

Ether invaded Medi’s mind again; this time he no longer had any defense to speak of, like an open diary left for anyone to flip through.

"No, no..."

Medi’s former mocking expression had utterly vanished; in his heart only an absolute terror of the unknown remained.

He had overrated his own willpower, and overrated his tolerance for cruelty. Of course, Medi had also badly underestimated Bologue’s ruthless brutality—this bastard, when inflicting violence, possessed almost no empathy at all.

Yes, Bologue had completely stripped his self out of the immediate scene; in its place was something like a role-play, in which he regarded himself as a supreme, heaven-appointed arbiter of judgment.

Cold and pitiless, like metal.

Bologue gripped Medi’s skull; Aimou’s hand passed unhindered through Medi’s body, burrowing into the depths of his soul.

With the Rectangular Soul Critical and the Alchemy Matrix gone, Aimou slipped easily into Medi’s memories, peering through his many experiences, and from those scattered fragments of memory found the information they wanted.

"I’ve found it."

Aimou voluntarily dissolved the Shared Chord Body and separated herself from Bologue’s body.

"From his memories, there’s still no sign of Olivia," Aimou first reported to Serey. "Looks like Olivia hasn’t yet carried out the assassination, and hasn’t been discovered by the Regent King."

Hearing this, the nerves Serey had kept taut all this time relaxed a little.

"And then, I know why there’s no one here, and I know where York is."

Aimou drew a deep breath; merely mentioning this piece of intelligence, she could already smell a dense, indelible reek of blood in Medi’s memories, so thick it choked.

"York is imprisoned in a place called the Butcher’s Pit. It lies within the Royal City. The bloodfolk who have vanished are all being sent there as his slaughter-stock, to help awaken the Sin of Wrath."

The group fell silent, each with a different expression.

"As expected..."

Wei’Er sighed softly a few times. It leapt down from Bologue’s shoulder, tail hanging low, and walked off toward the distance.

Bologue called out, "Wei’Er, what are you doing?"

"I’m going to the Butcher’s Pit," Wei’Er said without looking back. "You should have guessed my job too. I’m going to reclaim the Original Sin Armament on Sai Zong’s behalf."

Bologue said, "We can go together."

"No need. Once everyone shows up in the Butcher’s Pit, that’ll be the grand final battle, and it’ll only turn into a complete mess," Wei’Er went on. "Relax, I can handle it alone."

Wei’Er suddenly stopped, turned its head toward Bologue... no, toward Serey.

"Serey, stop disappointing everyone."

With that, Wei’Er broke into a swift run, its pattering footsteps fading, its figure vanishing within the Blood Tax Station.

"Wonderful. Another one... another cat off the team. We haven’t even acted yet and we’re already falling apart?"

Hinda began to regret joining this squad. She should have gone with Holt, even though Holt’s job was to draw the Rebellious Royal Court’s attention on the frontal battlefield.

"No. It’s just that everyone’s tasks are different."

Bologue continued, "My primary objective isn’t to deal with the Regent King, nor to assassinate the Night King, but to destroy the Dark Iron Curtain shrouding the Land of Eternal Night."

Once the Dark Iron Curtain vanished, the Rebellious Royal Court would be thrust into an absolute passive state. Then, whatever Bologue and the others wished to do would go far more smoothly. It might even be that Holt and his people could exploit the advantage of sunlight, cross the Angry Sea, and strike directly into the Land of Eternal Night.

"Then we can proceed to the next step."

Serey spoke as he drew out the Bloodthirsty Dagger, raising his hand to cut open Medi’s throat and end this Night Race creature’s life for good.

Bologue lifted a hand to stop him. "Wait. I still need him for one last experiment."

Under Serey’s puzzled gaze, Bologue took out the Light-Burning Crystal Core and pressed it tightly against Medi’s throat.

Medi stared nervously at Bologue. He felt something at his neck, exuding a glacial chill—but as the Ethereal Radiance flickered, the chill vanished, replaced by a little rising flame.

Before Medi could scream, the flame flared in an instant into roaring fire, devouring him whole, turning him into a trembling ball of fire.

Bologue stepped back a few paces, flicked the Light-Burning Crystal Core, shaking off the lingering sparks.

His gaze cold as he watched Medi’s struggles, saw him slowly hunch and curl in upon himself. His already withered body shrank further and further, until it became a black lump of charcoal. The Blood of the Night Race boiled away entirely; the flames burned off the hair and skin, then bored into the body, hollowing out his organs.

When the light-burning, exhausted of Ether, finally went out, what remained before Bologue was only a black heap of ashes, and within that mound a few hardened chunks that had not completely crumbled.

It was clear that light-burning possessed an extremely fearsome lethality against all organic matter—even the undying Night Race were no exception.

Bologue recalled Nesanel’s description of the Night King: a darkness that devoured all light and sound. Bologue did not know whether this radiance, which had once bound the Beast of the Herd for years, could bind the Night King once more.

"All right, we can go."

Bologue spoke as he lifted the Seal around them. Corridor after sealed corridor opened again; air flowed freely once more. Feeling the breeze against his face, Bologue couldn’t help wondering how Wei’Er had left this place.

"Serey, you lead the way. You know where the Royal City is, don’t you?"

"Of course. But we can’t take the main roads—that’ll get us spotted by the Wind-Eroded Birds."

Serey pointed up above as he spoke. "We raise these alchemical creatures not only for battle, but for surveillance too."

Bologue nodded, approving Serey’s thinking. In this Land of Eternal Night, apart from the known high-tier forces like the Regent King, Severin, and the Night King, there were many powers still hidden beyond their sight.

For example, those ancient relics who had crawled out alive from the Dawn War.

Their Alchemy Matrices naturally could not compare with the forces of today, but Bologue could not ignore the existence of Immortal Armor, nor the sheer number of them.

The goal of Bologue and the others was not open war, but infiltration and assassination, the destruction of the Gray Iron Curtain. As for those grand campaigns—there were others to wage them.

"So Holt and Fuen should be starting their move as well, right?"

Leaving the Blood Tax Station, Bologue looked toward the edge of the darkness, lost in thought.

Through ruins and wasteland, past the Thunder and surging wrath of the Angry Sea, the broad expanse of water heaved with boundless gales. Those winds braided together, drinking in seawater, punching through the sky.

Fuen stood at the heart of ten thousand winds. As his Ether reaction rose notch by notch, the other Condensers likewise coordinated with his actions.

Hundreds upon thousands of Ether reactions gathered as one, drawing in all Ether between heaven and earth, sweeping up the sea, swallowing the dark clouds, vast and overwhelming.

"Hah... you lot aren’t the only ones who can summon catastrophes."

Fuen unleashed his Secret Energy to the fullest, his expression excited and sickly. By the combined might of the Clarks, a massive tempest was forming at the fringe of the Angry Sea, and it was still slowly shifting, like an iceberg, ramming toward the Land of Eternal Night.

Until one side was torn into pieces.