Compared to the battles raging outside, the Fog Abyss Fortress was eerily calm. The Shadow King was polishing his weapon, a sword that hadn’t been drawn for many years; even with its alchemical armant, spots of rust dotted the tal’s edge.
All around, there was a constant sound of footsteps; aside from the calm around the Shadow King, it was busy everywhere else, with everyone scrambling to prepare defenses against the invasion of the Fourth Seat.
The Third Seat quickly erged from the darkness. As an aberration, his movents depended on his Domination Object, the Silver Knights, which looked almost identical and made it hard to locate his true form.
"We won’t hold out much longer," the Third Seat brought bad news.
The Shadow King kept his head down, focused on the blade in his hands, "Retract the front line, lure them here."
The Third Seat paused, glanced at the Shadow King, and then at the creepy existence shifting in the darkness. He nodded, loyally executing the Shadow King’s orders, and left quickly.
"You plan to make this the battleground for the final showdown?" Mammon asked.
"Just part of the strategy," the Shadow King replied, "Is the Decay Plague ready?"
Mammon said, "At any ti."
He was sowhat perplexed, "Why not detonate it imdiately? Though the Decay Plague was partially destroyed by Bologue and his group, even the remaining portion is enough to crush their assault."
"No... it’s not enough yet."
The Shadow King shook his head, then chuckled disdainfully, "Do you think the King’s Secret Sword sent only this little force?"
"What do you an?"
The Shadow King slowly stood up, his body near death and his soul on the verge of obliteration. Even with the power of a Seeker of Glory, he couldn’t wield much.
Like those Undead who fell behind the tis, the redy was simple enough: just an imnsely powerful Alchemy Armant.
"I believe the King’s Secret Sword dispatched more than the Fourth Seat and Red Dog."
The Shadow King stated assuredly, "I know my old rival too well. He’s a suspicious person; only when he sees beheaded and my corpse burned to ashes will he be at ease."
He fixed his gaze on Mammon’s eyes and whispered, "At this very mont, the First Seat is in Oubos within Oath City; perhaps he’s already infiltrated the Great Rift, or maybe he’s just outside Fog Abyss Fortress."
Seeing Mammon’s silence, the Shadow King chuckled hoarsely, "There’s no need to cloak things now; we both know the Crimson Queen controls the King of Slaughter, thereby controlling the King’s Secret Sword. I’m not the traitor—they are."
"What do you plan to do?" Mammon noticed the Shadow King seed poised to slip from his grasp.
"It’s simple, if I die, then everyone will learn the truth of the Night of Blood."
The Shadow King coughed several tis, blood dripping from beneath the Silver Mask.
"I should’ve done this long ago; unfortunately, I’m a stubborn and old-fashioned person, clinging to the laughable royal honor and guarding this secret till today... What a joke."
He smiled bitterly, "We Kagaderians are like this, aren’t we? As if lagging behind the tis."
"But there’s no choice... I always felt this was my war, my personal revenge. If I just yielded, it would feel like admitting defeat.
I don’t want to admit defeat."
"But you’ve already contemplated conceding." Mammon said.
"One must always be fully prepared; losing together is better than him winning." The Shadow King was indifferent.
Another set of footsteps sounded, Morrison erged from the darkness, saluting the Shadow King, "The others are ready."
The Shadow King said, "Good, I understand."
Morrison then returned to the darkness; the remaining Shield Guards had been fully mobilized, stationed in each corner of the Fog Abyss Fortress, prepared to et the enemy.
Mammon asked, "Are you sure you want to die here?"
"Who knows?" The Shadow King didn’t reveal his true thoughts.
Mammon said, "You don’t trust ?"
The Shadow King acted as if he heard a joke, almost leaning back in laughter, "Are you serious? Mammon."
"You’re a Devil after all; would truly anyone trust a Devil completely? Not to ntion, among Devils, you’re the most unpredictable."
The Shadow King knew enough about Devils, "I’ve encountered many Devils; you and Leviathan are the two I can’t figure out."
Devils, due to their inclination toward Original Sin, have predictable behavior guidelines, but Mammon was different; his greed was too vague. To maximize benefits, his behavior was erratic and bizarre, just like Leviathan, whose actions beca extre due to Envy.
In comparison, other Devils were easier to predict, at least their thoughts could be vaguely guessed.
"It’s truly sad to hear, especially since I’ve helped you so much." Mammon said.
"Helped , then coerced ?" The Shadow King shook his head, "Stop pretending, Mammon; it’s just a cold transaction between us."
The Shadow King extended his hand, "Fulfill your obligation."
The darkness began to boil, accompanied by sharp laughter. A jet-black hand suddenly reached from the shadow at the Shadow King’s feet, gripping his palm.
A violent sound of corrosion erupted, and the hand armor the Shadow King wore was rapidly corroded with dense potholes, viscous tar piercing through the tal’s protection, leaving a mark on the Shadow King’s palm.
"We’re even now."
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