Chapter 1652 - 125: Eternal War

Since that distant, primeval age, a cowardly child whispered a wish to the Devil in the dead of night. He had had enough of cold and hunger, enough of suffering and torment; the Death God loitered at his side, and amid peals of cruel laughter lightly pressed that icy Scythe against his throat.

In despair vast as the Abyss, the child devoutly begged for the Blessing of eternal life. With Silverware he slit open his palm and offered his blood, his soul, and all his future offspring to that presence dwelling in the dark.

Blood and darkness merged into one, becoming an unending stream that flowed through an age and era steeped in gore.

Until today.

Serey’s pupils widened slightly as he stared, incredulous, at that pitch?black figure steadily drawing near. In the history of the Night Race, that proud Devil had almost never manifested before their eyes; even the Night King had rarely witnessed his existence in person.

Serey had once thought of seeking out this Devil, just as Bologue tried to redeem his own soul. Naively, he too had wished to end this immortal Curse by some other means.

He could not find him—Serey could not find the slightest trace of his existence.

Perhaps, like the Original Sin borne by that man, he was an existence of extreme arrogance, disdaining any conversation with beings shackled by mortality, even with his most perfect creation, the Night Race.

Yet... were the Night Race truly a perfect creation in that man’s eyes? Given his lofty, proud bearing, a Night Race that pursued undeath and sustained itself with blood should be something unspeakably filthy and ugly.

Serey did not know, but he knew this: the man’s existence had become an unsolved riddle, so much so that that forbidden tale was no longer regarded by the Night Race as their origin history, but more as an ancient legend.

Now legend and reality had overlapped, and the story had become cruel truth.

Serey’s heart began to race, the pounding echoing clearly from beneath his ribs. He felt the blood that the Curse had long since chilled begin, in this instant, to grow scorching, as if it were about to burn his body to ash from within.

"Hah... hah..."

Serey parted his lips, wanting to speak, yet when the words reached his mouth they dissolved into meaningless breath.

His body started trembling once more. Serey tried to break free of this rigid posture, but even when he felt he had almost twisted his body to pieces, he remained frozen, unable to move.

Sai Zong spoke, "Calm yourself, Serey. It is not yet the time for you."

Serey’s mind quaked, and the frenzy in his eyes guttered out. To cling too fiercely to any one thing was only to lose one’s reason. Serey fought to Control his emotions and keep his mind clear.

"Serey?" The man glanced at Serey and said, "I remember that name—his eldest son, and also the chief culprit in the downfall of the Eternal Night Empire."

Eyes radiant as the starry sky met Serey’s gaze, and the composure he had just regained was once again hurled into turmoil. In the instant their eyes met he felt himself sink into the stellar heavens within that man’s gaze—deep, boundless, as though his very soul were about to plummet into them and be torn to fragments by a warped gravity.

"From the moment this game of strife began, I have been the one winning. Though I have faced setbacks, I have never before tasted such utter defeat." The man’s voice grew ever more severe. "And I owe it all to you, Serey Villeries."

Invisible pressure closed completely around Serey. The air beside him seemed to thicken severalfold, his entire body evenly bearing a force that only grew stronger, like an orange clenched tight in someone’s fist, squeezed until all its fresh juice ran out, leaving only a ruined husk.

This surpassed by far any coercion between bloodlines of Night King and subject; it was the power of Original Sin—the very essence of all aberrant madness.

Great beads of sweat seeped from Serey’s brow. He clenched his teeth, and blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.

"Serey has nothing to do with you anymore."

As Sai Zong spoke, he stepped in front of Serey, his scar?marred figure blocking the line of sight between them. The man could no longer see Serey, and Serey slipped free from the man’s gaze.

In an instant, Serey was released from that crushing weight. His whole body went strangely weak, and he dropped straight to his knees, both hands braced against the floor.

After the Dawn War, Serey had lived through a brief yet breathtaking period when a great number of Debtors suddenly surfaced and launched endless hunts for him. He slew most of them in turn, but a few survived, hounding him without cease.

Serey knew why they had come. His betrayal had single?handedly annihilated the greatest force under the Sin of Pride and had left that sin sorely lagging in his game of strife against the Devil.

All those people were Debtors of the Sin of Pride. They sought to hack off his head to curry favor with that Sin of Pride and in return win his regard and Blessing.

Later, Serey received Sai Zong’s invitation and joined the Undying Club. Under the protection of the Sin of Wrath, his life at last grew quiet. No Debtors came to trouble him anymore... or perhaps some did, but all of them ended up dead in the trash cans outside the club.

"Nothing to do with you? How could that be? The blood of the Villeries flows in his veins; he bears my sins." The man spoke again. "The bond between us far surpasses the fetters of bloodline... He is my Debtor."

"But he is under my protection," Sai Zong shot back, uncompromising. "He is a member of the Undying Club."

The man seemed to laugh. A faint, indistinct laughter echoed all around, like specters whispering in secret.

"Don’t be so tense, Sai Zong." The man took another step forward. "If I were to fly into a wrathful frenzy simply because he destroyed the Eternal Night Empire, that would be far too unbecoming of me."