Chapter 1607 - 110: Origin Tower

Atop the towering spires of the Royal City, the Regent King looked grimly toward the edge of the Land of Eternal Night, the chaotic black wall forged by mist and thunder.

"The storm is coming..."

In a low sigh, the Regent King had already sensed the astonishing Ethereal Amount emanating from beyond the chaotic black wall, as if a divine miracle was manifesting in reality, drawing the ether of the heavens and disturbing the mortal world.

The Song of Wind Fall was slowly colliding with the Angry Sea, two terrifying sources of ether clashing and intertwining, any means of obstruction would be torn to shreds under the great power that warps reality.

The Regent King understood that the winds had already risen, and he was too late to stop Fuen; all he could do was wait here with calm until the Song of Wind Fall broke through the chaotic barrier of the Angry Sea and then began another bloody battle.

Shifting his gaze, the Regent King looked toward the nearby Butcher’s Pit; his position wasn’t the highest point of the Royal City, but was sufficient to overlook the entire situation.

Within the Butcher’s Pit, the cruel slaughter continued, like an eternal elegy, no matter when one listens, it’s the same terrifying melody.

Under York’s infinite slaughter, blood and shattered flesh seemed to grow together with the ground, like the Blood and Flesh Plague of the Putrid Sect, the deep pit resembling a scar of the earth, writhing with rotting blood and flesh.

"They’re more determined than I imagined," the Regent King remarked to Trick beside him, "I thought they would need a few days of discussion to resolve to fight desperately, but they decided to push all their chips onto the gambling table in just one night... It’s truly crazy."

The Regent King squinted his eyes and suddenly asked again, "Trick, why did they suddenly make up their minds?"

"Sorry, I don’t know."

This was somewhat difficult, but Trick still relievedly accepted his own decay, "I’ve been imprisoned in the Land of Eternal Night for too long, so long that the only thing left is the blaze of fury in my chest, as for tactics and wisdom, they were lost in madness during lonely solitude."

Trick’s gaze was gloomy, his expression cold as iron, and after reaching the peak of stern chill, his expression suddenly shattered, filled with distortion and abnormality.

His complexion was pale as snow, like a blank sheet of paper, devoid of expression, his hair messy and greasy, clinging in strands to his forehead, giving a sense of long-neglected decay.

Trick’s limbs twitched intermittently, visible as he gritted his teeth, trying to control his out-of-control body, yet he still seemed like a lifeless puppet, manipulated by an invisible force.

The Regent King did nothing, only quietly observing; Trick was not the first time to be like this, similar symptoms had occurred among other members of the Night Race.

Trick’s limbs jerked more violently, his body contorted into strange postures, as if trying to resist invisible fear, his eyes rolling white, seemingly enduring painful torment.

Throughout this brief process, Trick’s gaze remained hollow and confused, like a soulless shell, letting out a deep howl from his throat, akin to a beast’s lament in the night, his fingers tightly gripping his hair, as if trying to extract some terrible memory from his mind.

Suddenly, Trick’s trembling stopped, like a machine disconnected from power, motionless, his gaze slowly regained clarity, cold sweat flooded his face, as if waking from a nightmare.

"You should drink blood; it helps you control your..." the Regent King hesitated, puzzled, "Should it be called epilepsy?"

"Who knows?"

Trick said as he took out a flask from his pocket, unscrewing the lid, the scent of blood mixed with alcohol wafted over.

"This smells much better than rat blood."

After consuming the blood in one gulp, Trick’s state visibly improved, he calmed his breath, his expression once again becoming somber.

"Years ago, when Serey failed to completely settle the Night King, it allowed us, the Night King’s guards, to survive by luck."

Trick’s voice was calm but filled with hatred, "Back then we mocked Serey’s cowardice, even at this point, he didn’t dare confront his father, but we also rejoiced, due to Serey’s cowardice, we avoided the calculation."

He whispered, "Who could have imagined, that would be the beginning of another nightmare?"

The Regent King was drawn into memories by Trick’s words; since the calculation after the Dawn War, the vast majority of the Night Race was burned alive by Serey, the few remaining ones were imprisoned within the Land of Eternal Night.

Back then, the Land of Eternal Night wasn’t like the Regent King’s current establishment; a hundred years ago, there were only members of the Night Race, no blood folk, and before long, the imprisoned Night Race inmates fell madly into Bloodthirsty Syndrome, yet despite searching through the Land of Eternal Night, they couldn’t find any blood folk.

This was Serey’s meticulously planned revenge; early on, when setting up the Land of Eternal Night, he eliminated any possibility of blood folk or even stored blood.

In the initial days, Trick and these once high-standing members of the Night Race hunted like wild dogs on the dark wilderness for traces of rats; these resilient lives managed to survive even within the Land of Eternal Night, they bared their fangs and drew blood from those small bodies.

"That was truly an unpleasant past," Trick whispered, "It didn’t take long before we ate all the rats, tormented by Bloodthirsty Syndrome until some couldn’t endure any longer and succumbed to madness."