Bologue felt he had rested enough, even though he hadn’t really taken much of a rest.
He pulled the curtains shut, and the room was plunged into complete darkness, save for Dudel’s voice still coming from the radio.
Bologue sat back on the sofa, and before him appeared a notebook, the "Origin Manual" that he had written.
After being promoted to Negative Power User and exploring the Ethereal Realm, Bologue had added all his speculations about the astronauts and even the existence of the Gate of Origin into his "Origin Manual."
One could say that this notebook now contains unimaginable knowledge, and according to the regulations of the Order Bureau, Bologue’s act of recording top-secret information in a dium was undoubtedly against the rules.
Bologue didn’t think much about it; he just prayed that Palr would respect his privacy and not rummage through his drawers.
In the darkness, Bologue couldn’t make out the words on the pages, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to ponder based on what he had originally written.
During this infiltration mission into the Fog Abyss Fortress, Bologue had gathered so more pieces of the puzzle. He was close to fully assembling the picture of the secret warfare.
"What if... what if all of this is the astronauts’ conspiracy?"
Bologue raised his head and muttered to himself in the darkness.
Since over sixty years ago, when the Scorched Earth Fury broke out, the astronauts had been plotting sothing. With the help of King Solomon, they almost succeeded. Likewise, the other Devils realized the terror of the astronauts’ conspiracy during their mutual attacks, sobered up, and united together to attack the Holy City.
The Fall of the Holy City.
The astronauts’ plan ultimately failed, and the Devils, controlling their pawns in the mortal realm, breached the high walls of the Holy City. The great King Solomon unwillingly burned out amid the blinding light, falling into the scar of the earth...
Bologue suddenly sat up straight, the etheric glow lit up before him, illuminating the coffee table in front of him and the long-followed battleground model under the glass cover.
Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid silently seeped into the model, forming two miniature figures in the rough model of the Holy City.
One was an astronaut, the other, King Solomon wearing a laurel crown. On the battlefield behind the high walls, one robed pawn appeared after another, totaling six.
The Fall of the Holy City was the climax of the strife, where all the Devils gathered... they had to gather here.
"What exactly are you plotting?"
Bologue stared at the pawn representing the astronaut, filled with confusion.
"Clearly, during the Scorched Earth Fury, you made no moves, rely hiding behind the high walls with King Solomon, yet the leaking of secrets made even the warring Devils willing to cease fighting and co together to prioritize dealing with you."
Bologue marveled, "What you planned was enough to threaten all the Devils, with no one able to remain uninvolved."
Amid the prolonged conflict, the first, last, and only true winner.
So what exactly was it that allowed the astronauts to achieve all this?
Bologue’s thoughts paused, feeling his chest heat up, as if a fierce fire was burning in his heart, and as this fla scorched his throat, pouring out of his mouth, a word almost forgotten by Bologue appeared in the invisible fire.
"Seven heads and ten horns, crowned with crowns."
Bologue exclaid.
"Red Dragon."
From what Nesanel and the Tyrant had told him, this mysterious object referred to as the Red Dragon, from King Solomon and the astronauts, had not perished in the Fall of the Holy City. At this mont, it lay buried sowhere in this city, thus drawing the constant influx of malevolence like a whirlpool.
The more Bologue thought, the more his head ached. Finally, he paused his thoughts, leaning back onto the sofa, drenched in sweat, as Dudel’s noisy voice on the radio also disappeared, replaced by a soothing lody.
Rock music isn’t always loud and noisy.
Bologue rubbed his eyes, stood up leisurely, and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window.
Aimou said she liked the Observation Tower very much; it was the only viewpoint of the Order Bureau. From there, one could see very far away, places so far that Aimou had never ventured to many of them.
Of course, most importantly, gazing at the distant scenery could soothe one’s weary eyes.
The Sublimation Furnace Core was like a complex chanical factory, with its hot furnace flowing with molten iron, and researchers hamring on anvils like blacksmiths, Aimou included. Due to her superior Steel Body, many of the laborious tasks in the lab were done by Aimou.
Listening to Aimou’s words and imitating her actions, Bologue opened a slit in the curtains, then looked outside, his gaze moving slowly upward over the buildings.
Bologue discovered that in the deep night, the night sky of Opus was unexpectedly clear, with a corner of the piled-up clouds collapsing, allowing the bright moonlight to perfectly fall down.
Everyone seeing such a beautiful moon would feel a burst of joy, but Bologue was different. He had been to the moon and knew better what was up there.
That land was not filled with romantic things as written in literature; all it had was a Devil, his open-air cinema, and a giant observatory.
It sounded like an absurd dark fairy tale.
Over the years, that Devil was like a voyeur, hiding on the moon. Relying on King Solomon’s legacy, he built crazy machines, spying on every movent on the ground, plotting those sinful conspiracies, and seeking the opportunity to defeat his blood kin and beco the King of Demons.
Bologue gazed at the moon, an inexplicable thought rose from his heart.
"Back then, you and King Solomon created the Red Dragon."
Bologue spoke to the moon.
"Could it be... you have already recovered the Red Dragon?"
The window seed not to be completely closed; a bit of cold wind seeped in, brushed against Bologue’s skin, bringing a creepy feeling.
Bologue staggered and leaned back, tripping over the coffee table. With Bologue’s agile movents, he would not have fallen, but this ti he fell directly to the ground, his eyes hollow under the moonlight’s cover.
Could there be a possibility that since the Fall of the Holy City ended, the Astronaut still hasn’t given up his "grand conspiracy"? King Solomon is dead, the Holy City destroyed, so what? They were re pawns used by the Astronaut.
The Astronaut has already extracted King Solomon’s worth, obtained enough technology, enough legacy from him, even if destroyed by other Devils, he has full capability by the legacy to try again.
Red Dragon.
That terrifying, world-ending Red Dragon.
A massive sense of crisis engulfed Bologue, he recalled what Shadow King said to him.
Perhaps what the Astronaut plotted was a re-enactnt of old days, so he was particularly cautious, even Overlord Xilin, in his hands, was rely a pawn, a sacrifice to achieve the conspiracy.
Think about it, Xilin’s life, full of ups and downs, splendid, everything he did was just to die in secrecy in the secret war, thus handing over the Alchemy Matrix, cursed like a curse, to his own hands without attracting anyone’s attention.
Then think of the tragic beginning of himself.
Bologue beca the Undead amidst the fire and brimstone, countless towering salt columns when King Solomon died, and the Holy City was destroyed.
From the mont the conspiracy was exposed, the Astronaut was already prepared for a new round of plotting, hence found himself to beco the Undead, continuing to complete his conspiracy.
"I’m not special," Bologue murmured, "I just happened to appear there, happened to be chosen, happened to beco his Debtor."
Bologue was not destined Savior, he just happened to appear at that ti node, even one might say that he was a choice of the Astronaut in desperation.
Then how should the mory of his "past life" be explained?
Bologue couldn’t comprehend all of it, but in such a thought process, Bologue understood one thing.
Since he is not the Red Dragon, then could he be like Xilin, rely a pawn in the Astronaut’s conspiracy, a piece discarded in the future?
How could it not be?
Even Xilin was a sacrifice, so what is Bologue?
Like seeking a sense of security, Bologue powerless stood up, took up the Grudge Bite, holding it horizontally in front of himself.
In the dark, a dim fluorescent floated on the pitch-black Blade, fingertip brushed over the edge, tal’s coldness pierced into the marrow, making Bologue sober.
Bologue felt sowhat mocked; even if he is the Undead, what of it, he still has to be troubled by this.
"What exactly are you plotting? Astronaut."
Bologue thought this, a vision of the ruins city covered by fire and ashes in the Abandoned Land floated in his mind.
Like a summon in the dark, Bologue wanted to go deeper, to reach the Golden Palace surrounded by light, he needed to personally witness the scene once played out in past histories.
Bologue wanted to personally see the corpse sitting on the throne.
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