Facing the Shadow King, Gray remained silent.
Mammon knew that the Shadow King was once part of the astronauts’ conspiracy... perhaps he still is, but compared to back then, the importance of the Shadow King has undoubtedly diminished, with the current protagonist being Bologue.
So what should be done?
Mammon could vaguely guess that the astronauts’ sche might still be the "New World" from the Fall of the Holy City.
Or perhaps not...
But it didn’t matter, Mammon didn’t need to know what he was plotting, as long as all his sches were disrupted, better to kill wrongly than to let him go unpunished.
"Gray, say sothing, how long has it been? What? Has the hatred in your heart already extinguished?"
Mammon raised his hand and pressed it against Gray’s cheek, even though he didn’t apply force, it brought about a piercing pain.
"Think about it, that rainy night which changed your destiny, your trusted teammate betrayed you, and killed her... You actually had feelings for her, didn’t you? She was so outstanding, and so kind to you."
Mammon’s words easily found the gap in Gray’s armor and pierced deeply within.
On that night of betrayal, Captain Jia ng had long been part of the King’s Shield Guard; he killed Milasha and gravely injured Gray. In truth, Gray should have died too, but he was saved by the Delusional and lived, knowing the identity of the second seat from Mammon at the cost of his soul.
Gray was supposed to be the sword of revenge, but when he learned who his enemy was, he beca confused and indecisive.
"Are you hesitating? Or is it that you lack the courage to kill him?"
Mammon inquired, yet Gray still did not respond, rely staring blankly at the Shadow King on the screen.
"Hmm..."
Mammon thought for a mont and continued, "I bestow upon you the Blessing·Threshold Limit, granting you the power to break limits, and Jia ng’s Blood Transfer Sword, which gives you the power to traverse the paths.
As for this..."
Mammon said as he touched Gray’s other sword, the Secret Sword from Milasha.
"I know what you need."
In Mammon’s soft words, he drew this ticulously maintained Secret Sword, gripping the blade with force, the sharp tal cutting open his palm, emitting a strange noise.
The sound did not resemble slicing through flesh and blood but rather like struggling to cut through a layer of decayed bark.
Moving his palm slowly, the blade further cut through the flesh, more bizarre still, no bright red blood flowed out, only hot, sticky tar oozed from the wound, emitting a nauseating stench like the sum of all the world’s filth.
A sharp corrosive sound rang out, and this Secret Sword carefully preserved by Gray beca covered with pitted corrosion holes on the once smooth tal surface under the encroachnt of tar, its original silver color now veiled in a grayish-black, filled with a decaying death aura, as if any life it injured would die instantly.
"Previously, you did not erase his power, so now, I grant you the power of extermination, though it’s only once."
Mammon returned the Secret Sword to Gray, curiously observing Gray’s expression.
"What will you do, Gray?"
The sinister words filled Gray’s mind, countless mocking voices overlapped, turning into a terrifying wail.
"Will you, like a coward, let the flas of vengeance die out, or abandon everything and slaughter him, to avenge Milasha?"
Gray remained silent, rely staring coldly at the scarred sword, as if it mirrored his scarred and battered heart.
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